If she can record me, she’d see a lot of road rage and a white girl shimmying to hip-hop…

January 12, 2009 at 12:48 pm | Posted in Baby Weight (Evan), I have unleashed the crazy, I shouldn't have even posted this, It's OK to be confused... I am, Me myself I and me again | 1 Comment

Go-go Gadgets.

Scene:  January 8th 2009… about 6:30pm… getting in my frikkin’ freezing car after my psychiatrist  appointment.  (I’m doing very well, thankyou… just a normal step up on the Welbutrin.  ‘Cause I know you were interested in the crazy.  You’re Welcome.)

First I crank on the car, of course.  It greets me and I adjust the heater (high!) and turn on the defrost and the butt warmer.  Cozy.  Next I plug in the IPOD, turn it on and hit the “Recently Downloaded” playlist.  Rock.  Oh!  Don’t forget to take off the vibrate feature on the phones.  Yes, phones, one for me, one for work.  Now I pull out the GPS.  I’ve driven home from the doc’s office before, but maybe Miss GPS knows a better way home.  Take her out of the case, set her on the dashboard and plug her in, turn her on and tell her to take me home.  Ahh.. now I can back out and get the F home.  Holy gadgets.

Turns out Miss GPS does know a better way home.  I think.  I don’t really know where I am at this point actually.  I just turned where she told me to turn and where the fuck am I?  She seems to know but I’m just doing as she says.  In my mind’s eye I see a bunch of clueless drivers that were directed onto a frozen lake somewhere gliding across the ice with their stunned deer-in-the-headlights looks as other car’s headlights sweep over them like spotlights.  Then the bitch GPSs tell them they have “reached their destination” and laugh and laugh and laugh.

She makes me nervous.  I feel the need to look at her and turn down my radio when she talks.  I feel like a bitch if I don’t.  Plus I’m lost, so she could be videotaping me and giving me bad directions if I disrespect her.  Good grief, I feel like a tool at this point.  Then: Ahh Hah!  The highway!  I’m saved.  And I know my way now.  My music gets turned up and I ignore her.  She gets louder, (or am I imagining this?) and brighter.  I glance at her from the corner of my eye but I don’t give the satisfaction of a full-on stare.  Then a song comes on the IPOD that I skip.  And the guilt pours off me ’cause I feel bad when I skip a song ’cause I’m sure the IPOD is saying, “You’re the one that downloaded it, asshole.”  and rolls his eyes.  If he has eyes.  Which I’m sure he does.

I haven’t used her since.  I’m sure she’s pissed.  Maybe I should tell the doc about this one… Or maybe I should pretend it never happened and just post a picture of Baby Evan from this morning to distract you.  Good Plan, Amber.  *pats back*

Go-go Gadget Evan!

Go-go Gadget Evan!


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  1. It really does get creepy when my mind gives personality to the electronics. Why it is I’m always giving them a secret agenda, I do not know… 😀

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