17.5 Thoughts entertained on Route 119

"Letting the Cables Sleep" is still awesome after the umpteenth time in a row.  The way the repeated line, "If heaven is on the way," just hangs there, letting the weight of the words linger is ... yeah, still awesome. 

How proud I am of me for learning to drive a standard this year. I feel a surge of satisfaction every time the stoplight turns green and I thrust the shifter into first.

Of this new fear of hills, and then how I'd like to roll on top of cars that pull right up against your bumper on hills. (Note to readers: DO NOT DO THIS.)

If clay is dirt, which it is, how then can the label on my body wash boast its powerful cleansing capabilities? This logic applies as well to my Tresemme dry shampoo. (I later discovered people around the world actually eat clay for its nutrients. Hungry anyone?)

Possible blog ideas:

            One about the books I want to read over Christmas/New Year's break.

Another about my son and the conversation we had about dingleberries. Heaven help a mother - and punish the father who brought the subject up.

Another about tradition, namely the things we pass along to others. These things ought not to have anything to do with dingleberries.

It is unhealthy to spend too much time in front of a mirror, a conclusion reached from having to stare at the lower portion of my face everyday in the uncovered mirror on the driver's side visor, lest I should be blinded by the sun.  

I hate getting my own gas.

The woman at Sheetz could have been nicer about punching my coffee card, especially since I got the dark chocolate flavoring when what I asked for was the white.

Iced coffee with hazelnut and white dark chocolate is yum. 

Of the deer, Eliot, in Open Season, who says of coffee, "It's terrible and wonderful at the same time! It's like freedom in a cup!"

Caffiene must be a diurettic.

Of that time J.R. and I parked behind the Giant Eagle building. How the cops followed a red Mustang back to where we were, came over to us, made me step out of the vehicle and asked, "Do you want to be with this guy (meaning J.R.), Miss?" Nine years later, I still am.  

That more driving accidents occur from sleep deprivation than alcohol impairment.  

I sleep too little.

Why?

 . . .