Thursday, May 31, 2007


He said YES.
VERY EXCITING NEWS, I've been hinting, but I got a YES tonight.

From the very top.
He said YES.

I'll be back with the promised post and the latest news!!!


Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Leo, you hunter, you!!

It is 11:53pm on Tuesday night.
I have just woken the Pope up for the second time to rescue the shrew (vole?) that Leo brought in. Both times not dead. Second time a bit more frisky than the first.

Leo, we're so proud. I'm so proud I could burst. But Mom is a bit squeamish and Dad has to get up at 5:45am, so can you kill them (because then I could get rid of them) or bring them in alive and terrified before 9:00pm?

Thanks muchly,
Mom and a very annoyed Dad.

I have a very good post coming. Something happened to my very good friend yesterday which is alternatively disgusting and hilarious. Must write about it. I'm working on the wording. Stay tuned.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

BitchQueen of the House

I know I always post about Finny (who is not yet returned) to the detriment of my other kitties. But Finny was the superstar, always doing things that got and held your attention. The other kitties are older, more set in their ways, and less apt to do things that made you laugh out loud or shocked you.

Well, last night Lucy showed what she is made of. Something I have always joked about, and long suspected....she is a formidable little cat.
Lucy is a little cat. She is short, close to the ground, and has tiny features. She is shaped not unlike a loaf of bread. She is zaftig (hee) and has a tiny tail, simply put there is nothing in her physical appearance that would give any other cats pause. But I know.....she is the meanest cat I've ever seen.

We adopted her out of a pound in San Diego. We were looking for a kitten to keep our one year old cat Cali company.
We got to the pound, and there was little 4 pound Lucy, and when she saw me, she threw herself at the cage door. She did that repeatedly until I looked at my ex-husband and said, HER. She's the one. He said, she's not a kitten, she's not a boy, she's not at all what we are here to pick up. I said, no matter, it is her. I know this.

We adopted her and I took her home. She curled in the floor of the backseat passenger side and howled the entire drive home. I kept saying, You're OK, You're OK kitty, You're OK. I reached back there and soon as I touched her, she quieted down. And that was about it for Lucy and me. I'm her mom and she has always been MY CAT. No one else has ever been able to get as close to Lucy as they may wish.

She detested my ex-husband the entire time we lived together. She would climb on his lap, turn around and fart in his face, and then walk over the bed to lay on my legs.
He hated that. The Pope has a boy, Leo, who Lucy has terrorized since they met. She does this all without much violence. She will glare at him, and makes him so fearful of her that we have to pick him up to move him past her. He will stand and cry on the other side until we rescue him. Finny used to torment Lucy, but she never really raised a hand to him. She would hiss and howl, but she rarely, if ever, acted toward her little brother with any real aggression.

But I knew. I knew in a pinch that she was the one to fear.

And that pinch came last night.

A huge white cat, once we keep seeing in the backyard, ambled in last night and sampled their food. Lucy was with me on the couch, and heard him first. She slinked off the couch and bristled. I saw the cat and jumped up. The cat darted out of the kitchen, and before I knew what was happening, Lucy shot toward the cat, snuck past the wall, with every intention of heading him off at the pass. She did, and very much surprised this huge cat. He was three times her size. She hit him with a football tackle, and they rolled, biting and clawing, the entire length of our hallway. Lucy was attacking this cat. The cat was doing everything he could to protect himself, but her ears were back and she wasn't making a sound. She was going for the kill. I saw this, saw them rolling and thought, she's going to kill it! Oh my god, she is going to kill this cat!!
I followed the cats, shouting, Lucy, get in the office, stop it, stop it, stop it! I got them separated by walking up close and bending down and clapping loud right next to their ears. Lucy had rolled this white cat into a hissing, white hair flying ball to the end of the hallway, and then slammed him into the wall and was a vicious little loaf of bread-shaped anger. I got her into the office, shut the door, and meanwhile the cat ran for the door, his nails skittering on the wood, his hind legs flying, tufts of his hair swirling around the hallway. He ran past the door into the kitchen, Leo came into the kitchen, and the white cat was all, DUDE there are more of them! And he ran into the laundry room and vaulted out of the cat door.

I let Lucy out of the office, and when I looked down at my sweet girl, she was all business. She stalked out of the office and went low to the ground and started tracking the scent. She had tufts of white fur peeking out between her toes.
She is absolutely unscathed from this. But she went to bed on the far end of the bed, the one closest to the bedroom door, and I think she was watching for him. We shut the cat door after the white cat left, but I want it open for Finny. I don't think that white cat will be coming back anytime real soon.

Let it be known henceforth.
Don't fuck with Lucy.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

I had a dream last night

Overwhelmingly the image was a truck door - closing and ratcheting shut with a lever.
Then the image shifted and I was in a wooded area watching a lady's house. I saw Finny, and some lady was calling him her cat.

I approached the lady, I told her Finny was my cat. She argued with me and I said, HE IS MY CAT! HE IS MY CAT HE IS MY CAT HE IS MY CAT and my voice was so loud I broke all the windows in the world.

My voice was so loud the woman cowered before me.
In the dream I recovered Finny, but he was rather ambivalent about it.

I woke up this morning and was sure that I'd find Finny in one of the two vans that match that description on the street behind mine.
The one house I didn't go up to, because no one was there, the other I knocked on the door and two little girls, left home alone, said, "Who's there???" I said, "I'm looking for my cat."

They opened the door, they couldn't have been more than 8 or 9. I felt so bad for them, because they were scared of me. I handed them a flyer and asked if their parents were home. They seemed to disagree, then finally admitted they were home alone.

I handed them the flyer and told them I had a dream about their van.
THAT seriously freaked them out, or amused them, because the one broke into a huge smile and the other started to shut the door.

I thanked them for their time, and left.
On my way out, I pressed my ear to the back of the van and called loudly for Finny.

I didn't hear anything.

Untitled - June 16, 1999

I mistook the cosmos again
Shooting stars should not aim
at civilians

What is so lucky about planetary motions?
Mars has me by the throat
And Neptune
is just

I'm up here without a rope
or game plan.

I shift into various constellating intentions
thought Pegasus
even Ursa Minor.

I TRIED to swim away
but the Kraken sent me back
and Ursa thought me just
too small.

And all the while
the edges get edgier
and the corners
sharpen their blades

and I'm going to need that black hole soon.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

What is the Hardest

It isn't so much the worry, although I am worried, very worried, worried to tears, and from tears to headaches and from headaches to tequila and to a blissful, ignorant sleep.

It is the hope.
Hope kills me on a regular basis. It breaks my heart like the first time my heart broke, every time I come home and look expectantly at all his places. It breaks my heart while I daydream stunning rescues while I'm at work and then come home to nothing.

Today my heart broke when I looked at his favorite toy.
Then it broke again when I tried to garden, and tossed weeds that he normally would have chased, pounced on, and then dragged with him for a bit.

I'm going to get in an accident, because near my house I don't look at road ahead. I look at the roadsides, hoping yet not hoping that I see a flash of his fur.

I go on Petfinder and the LOST sites, trying to find someone who has him on their site, up for adoption, and I will speed over there and say, this is my baby. Give me my baby back.

I get an email from a lady asking if my cat has a orange mark on his face and even though he doesn't, I get all excited and email her a picture of Finny that shows a closeup of his face. She hasn't responded.

I look under the deck again for the 30th time, and I sit really still in the garden, listening for a quiet and desperate meow.

Finny, the irises are blooming now. And you would have liked that.
The birds are getting daring, they must know that you are away.

Finny, my heart is breaking every minute of every day. And I'm so sad without you.
Finny, the house just isn't the same without you. And your sister won't leave my side, even for a second, and I love her dearly but am so angry with her. Why didn't she save you? Why didn't she fight? She is meaner than the rest of us put together. She could kill with looks alone, and now you are gone and she isn't even looking for you. She just meows at me and sits with me and sleeps right between my legs, like everything is normal, like the whole world wasn't just tipped on its side and emptied into my heart.

Like the worst that could have happened didn't just happen.
Finny, this is the worst that could have happened to me. The worst thing ever.

And I love you so dearly, little man. I love you love you love you so dearly.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Ah My Broken Heart

Finny, if you are still out there, there are a few things I need to tell you.
I love you. I have loved you since the moment I saw you and took you in my arms.
I looked down at you, you looked up at me, and that was it. I was your mom. And you were my baby.

I have loved every single minute of every single moment you were around me.
Even when you drove me crazy waking me up several times in the morning, I knew it was just because you wanted to hang out. Or have me let you out. Or have me feed you.

You did the funniest things. You said HI to us each time you came in the door.
You got spooked at plastic bags (because of that one time you got stuck in one when you were a baby).
You liked to have me rub your face for hours at night. I rubbed your face for hours. You curled into the cat condo even when you outgrew it, even when all we could see by looking in was a face and a tangle of feet.
You got lost that one time in the blackberry bushes? And I was on the other side picking berries, and you cried and cried and I kept saying, You're OK, You're OK, follow my voice Finny, and you followed my voice until I led you out of them. You were such a good helper in the garden. You helped us so much whenever we did anything. We miss your help, honey.
You used to run around the house at a full gallop, and then stop short and flick your tail, so happy with the speed and the space you had. You made me laugh out loud on a daily basis. You brought me dead things all the time, and I am so proud of your hunting prowess. You used to let Lucy lick you the wrong way against the growth of your fur, and you let her do this for minutes before you bit her, and honestly I would have bitten her much sooner. You got so big and still you were so loving. You would shove your face into Lucy and Leo's necks so that they could love you, and honestly they were terrified to do anything else, you were that big and rambunctious.

You climbed on everything - even the counters. You are the cutest cat I've ever seen.

I knew that there was a danger in letting you roam so freely. But it made you so happy, and I would do anything to make you happy.

Honey, I've looked everywhere. I've called your name for miles. I've put posters everywhere. I call the hotlines obsessively throughout the day. I really tried, honey. I miss you so much, and my heart is so broken. And if I knew where you were, I'd come there right now. No matter what. No matter what.

Finny, you were such a good boy. You were a very very very good boy.
And I loved you so much. And I'm so sorry I let you down and couldn't protect you from everything.
And I am so so so sorry I can't find you. I tried, baby. Honestly, I did everything I could.

Everyone is so worried about you. Everyone loves you so much. I just want you to know that you were/are? the best cat I've ever had, and I am just wrecked by this. I am just so truly and completely wrecked by this.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007


Finny is missing.
He hasn't been home in two days.

I am wracked with pain because what if he needs me and I can't get to him?

Finny, I would come to you past every layer of hell.
I would run over blackberries barefoot, I would tear the necks from coyotes with my teeth.

I would fight and kill for you.

Just call out to me and tell me, WHERE ARE YOU?

Mommy is coming - I'm coming sweetie. I just can't find you, no matter where I look.

Please honey, come home. I miss you and I love you and I'm devastated. Honey please come home.

Please please please please come home to me.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Don't Even Ask Me About Lettuce

So I am taking this supplement that my friend sells.
I "won" it in a raffle she held at her booth at a NW Mind Body Spirit show recently.
And by win I mean that I filled out the form with the understanding that if she could swing it, I was going to win. I believe that is the first raffle I've ever won. I'm not particularly lucky, unlike Lakshmi, who makes you want to scream with how many times she wins things.

But then again, she enters things, and I've heard that is a good start on the whole winning thing journey.

But I digress. My friend Gaia (she is a lovely, lovely, nurturing woman) has been taking this supplement for her entire first pregnancy and now through her second. She credits it for keeping both she and her son healthy, and for ensuring she never became as a big as a house.

That was pretty much all I needed to hear. The very day she dropped off the prize to me, I started taking it.

(UNLIKE MY FUCKING CANDLES. WHERE ARE MY FUCKING CANDLES? Don't throw a candle party and then keep the sales open for three months. That's ASININE, and now I don't even want the fucking things. I need instant gratification, and I need it right this very minute!)

Anyway. I started taking the supplement immediately, and I've been taking it every day religiously (except for two days this weekend, which I'll explain later).

And it is a powder that you mix with water and shake up and then drink. It has a bazillion fruits, nuts, grains, and good stuff for you. I will tell you exactly what in a second. I'm getting there, just be patient.

About three days after I started taking taking it, I noticed something odd. My stomach was having a little revolution issue. Revolting. Constantly. ALLTHETIME. UNCOMFORTABLY SO.

I know! Too much information, but then, you're reading my blog, so suck it. It has been a slow week.

So basically it is like this: I take the supplement. Then I eat something, and it is like throwing a food party. I invite all the food into my colon and then they get all out of control, and the music gets going, and someone breaks the fucking toilet tank (CLP!!) and I'm getting pissed and my other organs are trying to do their jobs and the fucking colon won't turn down the bass, and THEN. Someone calls the body cops and they come in and break up the party and it is all, "EVERYONE GET OUT. NOW! You're underage and you're drinking and we're gonna bust every last one of you!!"

So everything in my colon goes flying out screaming, "Damn, it's the pigs - everyone get out of here, dude hide the drugs, my mom will fucking kill me!!!"

I get just a brief rumble before news of the cop show arrives simultaneously to my brain and all pain receptors in my stomach. I've been no farther from a clean and well-smelling restroom than is absolutely necessary since I started taking these things.

So I got curious and really looked at the information packet. (I know, how stupid of me to take something w/o reading the actual ingredients!? I truly DON'T REALLY CARE! Unless I break into hives or turn orange or my stomach joins the communist party. You can ask me about all of the random and indefinable things I ingested in college if you are so inclined. I'm fairly daring when it comes to my body. It should be interesting when I'm in my 80's.)

What is in this stuff:
30 Antioxidant Rich Fruits and Berries (it tastes very berry)
30 Powerful Greens & Vegetables (like berry-flavored dirt)
11 Nutrient Dense Seeds, Nuts and Sprouts (I will admit to gagging down the last swallow)
83+ Active Enzymes and Fulvic Minerals (what is a fulvic mineral?)
22 Strains of Resilient Living Probiotics (WHAT? 22 STRAINS of RESILIENT LIVING THINGS?)

I think I know what is causing my stomach issues.
That must be like eating 357 cups of yogurt that have been left out in the sun all day.
I'm surprised I haven't ballooned into 400 pounds of "living things" and am now considered an amusement park for all various and sundry bacteria in my body.

They are resilient, and they are extremely territorial of their turf.
Which is my poor, oft-abused colon and lower intestine.

But that being said, I'm taking it again, once everything calmed down.
I think the resistant strains now know: Fuck with me again, and I won't let your friends emigrate. That's the kind of brain I am.

And I've been to India, and I've contracted Amebic Dystentery, which is a WHOLE 'NOTHER POST - one which I promise never to write.

22 Strains of Resilient Living Probiotics? Pshaw. You're child's play to me.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Mayakovsky - FRANK O'HARA

My heart's aflutter!
I am standing in the bath tub
crying. Mother, mother
who am I? If he
will just come back once
and kiss me on the face
his coarse hair brush
my temple, it's throbbing!

then I can put on my clothes
I guess, and walk the streets.

I love you. I love you,
but I'm turning to my verses
and my heart is closing
like a fist.

Words! be
sick as I am sick, swoon,
roll back your eyes, a pool,

and I'll stare down
at my wounded beauty
which at best is only a talent
for poetry.

Cannot please, cannot charm or win
what a poet!
and the clear water is thick

with bloody blows on its head.
I embraced a cloud,
but when I soared
it rained.

That's funny! there's blood on my chest
oh yes, I've been carrying bricks
what a funny place to rupture!
and now it is raining on the ailanthus
as I step out onto the window ledge
the tracks below me are smoky
and glistening with a passion for running
I leap into the leaves, green like the sea

Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.

Friday Letters

Dear Guy Who Flipped Me Off This Morning:

I cut my driving teeth in California. That's Los Angeles to you, dickwad. You may have heard LA referred to as HELL-A before, and let me tell you why:

There is an extraordinary amount of bullshit driving that occurs in LA. You'd be surprised, no really, you would! I know you're from Seattle, and that's where stupid people drive nicely (an altogether horrid combination, if you ask me....) but I'm not from Seattle. There are drivers in LA that drive so as to PURPOSEFULLY hurt people, and police car chases and the whatnot. So really, learning how to drive in LA is learning how to drive aggressively and reactively, ALL THE TIME. No matter what you're doing. (iPOD be damned! I'll swerve and miss that person who flagrantly jumped on his brakes when the light four streets away turned yellow.) I know, you're not following me. That's okay.

What I am trying to tell you is that when your car came to a DEAD STOP on a busy off ramp so that you could honk and wave at your friend that was stuck in traffic, my teensy horn-bleat was a polite way to say that you're an imbecile who is going to get someone killed. The underlying subtext was, "Let's hope it's you." I did that admirably restrained beep only after stopping so short and so hard that my purse flew off the front seat and hit the glovebox hard enough that now they're married and my lipstick is on maternity leave.

Go fuck yourself,


Dear Perky Colleague That Freaks Me Out With Cheer:

Sweetie, chill. Your grin is making MY cheeks hurt. I think you may have been hatched from the pod in Stepford, and OMG that's totally AWESOME!, but you need to show a crack, or a bad mood or're waay too perky and it is fairly unsettling.

As we sat together during that company conference call, I was watching you for some electrical glitch (a repeated movement, a random blinking eye-lid) to confirm that you are a robot. Or probably a Scientologist. I had just reached for my water to throw on you to cause an electrical fire, when you reached up and picked at your right nostril.

AHA! Not robotic, just preternaturally nice. Let me leave you with these small words of caution:

Everything! Is! Not! That! Awesome! And! You're! Really! Kinda! Scary!

I am the antithesis of perky,


Thursday, May 10, 2007

Cop Out

I was going to sit down and write a nice long post about playing tennis with my husband tonight, and something very exciting that might be possible, might be on the horizon for us.

But I don't want to jinx anything and I am tired and ready for bed.

So instead, I will leave you with this picture of an awesome foursome that is going to Cancun in August. Except that we're a fivesome, and a very cool chick is coming with.

So here we are, effected by iSight's Camera:

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

In Case You Were Wondering

I don't know if I ever told anyone why this site is named the way it is:

Carcharodon is a long-time favorite of mine. If you've ever been around me and the water, I'll tell you why I won't go in, and then proceed to bore you with every fact about sharks I've ever stored in my head.

Which is why I don't know your phone number by heart.

I'm sorry, I simply don't have enough room for your phone number and still retain the ability to draw three different shark teeth for you and tell you which ones they go to.

You really don't want to watch SharkWeek with me. I've seen them all before, and I find myself correcting the shows out loud, scornfully.

It is the sorriest, the dorkiest, the most-Salome thing I do.

So when I sat down to create a blog address, I sat in front of the prompt for a bit, waiting for something to come to me. That is how Salome came about. I signed up for email my freshman year in college. Remember when email was so new? I was so excited to get an email address, and no one wrote to it for the first three years I had it, because NO ONE wrote emails back then. That was back when I thought the internet contained only one website, the homepage for the band HOLE.

What came to me in the 15 seconds I had to choose a college email address (they timed you, I swear to god.) I typed in, almost as if I were being channeled, salome@....and Salome was born.

I later read about her (although Catholic, I did not know of her) and thought, "huh." Doesn't really sound anything like me. Hmmmm.
But I have continued to use the name Salome. Ever since September of 1992 I have used that name to write under.

So, I sat at the Blogger prompt and then thought: CARCHARODON!
Yes, perfect!
But it was taken, and I was totally pissed.

So I then thought of ways to use it.

And if Carcharodon means Man-Eating Sharks (which is so catchy, I LOVE IT) or...
Sharp Teeth (or rough teeth, depending on where you look, someone with some latin skills can tell us) then making it Carcharodonna would mean: sharp teeth, lady: right? Are you following me?

But then I thought more about who I am and the way I write. And I typically write dark things. I typically think dark things. And so a note of caution appealed to me.

Sharpen Teeth, Lady.

Prepare yourself for the rest of the world, Donna.

Because it can
(and will)
be brutal.

So that's where the name came from.


So I heard from a psychic that in order to feel serene and tranquil I need to spend more time in nature.
Being natural. Doing nature things. Gardening. Waha. Gardening!

For me, and this house built next to every fucking tree in Washington State that is designed by God to drop its leaves, gardening means a whole lot of the very relaxing "cleaning shit up."

I invite you all to watch me garden:

1. Stand on back porch surveying all that requires my attention.
2. Smoke cigarette.
3. Better get the iPod, neighbor is blasting oldies rock.
4. Go around the house to get gardening tools out of the garage.
5. Go back around the house to go inside the kitchen and through the hallway to open the garage door - because every other door is locked and you're an idiot who didn't open the garage door to begin with. Revise step one to include this in the future.
6. Get tools and arrange them on the back porch where you will get them when needed.
7. Go back and get the one thing you will actually use all day.
8. Skip this song, stupid iPod plays the same songs on shuffle all the time.
9. Bend down and greet the cats who are swarming around you, shocked that you are not on the couch with a bourbon.
10. Rake leaves.
11. Rake leaves.
12. Rake leaves.
13. Detest leaf dropping trees and wonder about ticks.
14. Is there Frontline for humans? Wonder this as you rake more leaves.
15. Bend down and greet Finny, who is desperately trying to help you in any way he can. OMG so CUTE! Sooo cute.
16. Gather up leaves and put in the.....?
17. Curse as you walk back around the house to get the yard waste bin. RIDICULOUS lack of planning.
18. Gather leaves and stuff into the yard waste bin. Push down to fit at least 7 piles.
19. Spill half the barrel as you tote it back around the house, across the street to dump down the ravine.
20. Smoke another cigarette.
21. Go inside the house to get some water. You're working pretty hard.
22. Walk over and clip dead flowers off of the planet of hydrangea that is growing at the edge of the deck. Any excuse to ignore the leaves for a bit.
23. See Finny stalking you in the creepy creek bed things and pull one up and toss it to him.
24. Laugh with delight as Finny jumps to grab the creepy thing and then looks expectantly back at you to pull up and throw him more.
25. Find seriously decomposed skeletal thing in the last pile of leaves to go into the bin. Think it is a cat. Go get the Pope to verify. The Pope is seriously skeeved, and suggests it is too brittle boned for a cat. Have distinct mental picture of coyotes puking up the neighborhood cats in your back yard. Which would be so RUDE. See a bone sticking perpendicular to the marshy bit, and because you have your dirty suede gardening gloves on, pull on the bone to reveal a decomposed wing. A HUGE stinky decomposed wing which makes your stomach hurtle towards your throat. Throw it in the yard waste bin and now know who belonged to all those large black feathers you cleaned up off the porch a couple of months ago.
26. Find Finny and gush over his prowess for a bit. Finny doesn't remember, but he loves you anyway.
27. Smoke another cigarette, thinking how one less crow is probably a good thing. Big mean birds might not come around here.
28. See Finny cavorting in the irises and are amazed that this goofy little guy can kill anything.
29. Wipe bead of sweat from forehead and freak out thinking it is a tick.
30. Rake leaves.
31. Weed the little starter weeds that were uncovered by cleaning the leaves.
32. Repeat as necessary until your muscles ache and it looks like you have actually done something.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

20 Things About Me

1. I can sneeze with my eyes open. Just because my brother once told me it couldn't be done.
2. I love sharks.
3. Passion Fruit flavored anything sends me into a frenzy of joy.
4. If I don't read from a novel at least once per day I get irritable.
5. I cry at FTD commercials. And sometimes tear up at poignant billboard signs.
6. I wish I were more like my friends.
7. I sometimes wonder why they are my friends.
8. I've considered paying them to stay my friends.
9. I rarely ask for help, but am learning to reach out. It feels good.
10. My dream job would be a musician - guitar and lead vocals.
11. I would be pretty wild as a rock-n-roll singer - and probably die from an overdose.
12. My cats are my kids. No, I mean really, they are my kids.
13. I would kill to protect those I loved.
14. I wish I had been born years earlier, as a man who would go to battle.
15. I really, really, really want dragons to have existed.
16. If I could die and come back as something, it would be a housecat or a great white shark.
17. I think I'm smarter than 95% of the people I meet on a daily basis.
18. I choose my friends because I think they're smarter than I am.
19. I'm always right when I choose my friends because of #18.
20. I can't stay on a diet to save my life.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Letters Letters Letters

Dear Drivers on I-5:

I swear to fucking god that you're all morons.
There is absolutely no need, NO NEED, to tap your brake lights every 13.4 seconds for over 4 miles. I understand that no one wants an accident, I certainly don't want one as much as you don't want one, but if you all don't fucking get a clue I'm going to start honking.

And by honking I mean I am going to surgically enhance my chest to include the steering wheel, because that is how far I'm going to thrust my body onto the horn to give you a message.

If it was just the piece of shit landscape truck that I was UNBELIEVABLY trapped behind for 30 years tonight, I would understand that. I would tap the brakes, too, if I were leaking all sorts of fucking debris over the highway.

And hey, landscape truck? Your truck bed was piled too high. I know this because I was flipping you off for about 15 solid minutes and you didn't speed up once. NOT ONCE.

I understand that traffic can be stressful. And I further agree that the city of Seattle founders were totally tripping on acid when they determined where and how you would merge on and off a freeway, particularly as you hit the CBD on the 5.

But listen. Let's all agree to not drive like idiots, and then everyone will have a safer and happier time out there. Are you with me?

Putting the flames out,

Dear People in Business that call Busy People In Business:

* If the machine cuts you off, that is a polite indication that you have rambled on far too fucking long for me to be at all interested in what you are saying. So please don't call back and say, "Hehehehe your machine is having trouble," and then recap the 4 hour message it tried to end. The machine is not having trouble, it is just as bored as I am.
* TURN OFF THE RADIO AT YOUR DESK WHILE YOU'RE TALKING. Be sure that we don't share the same tasted in music, but be doubly sure that it drives me batshit when I can't hear you because some crappy top-40 song is blaring into the phone speaker.
* If you call me on a regular basis, please don't tell me who you are in relation to me in time and space, and repeat your number and company name twice in the message. If I sent you a Christmas gift, I know who you are. If you call me complaining at least three times a week, you can be assured I fucking know who you are, and I think you're annoying.

Just Trying to Make It Through the Ever-Loving Day,

Dear Incredibly Large Spider I Saw In My Backyard This Sunday:

Dude, SERIOUSLY. You stay outside and I promise not to kill you. But if you ever dart out of a small crevice very near my head again, all bets are off.