This City
Thursday, August 22, 2013
The city of San Antonio, TX that I live in is quite a city. I can say horrible things about it and there are a few good things as well. But mostly the driving of the people is driving me crazy! I have never been somewhere before that has a complete and utter lack of driving laws and just common sense. The dumb things that these people do are just dangerous. So what I have learned most about this Texas town is that the drivers are stupid. 1. Slowing down to get on the interstate. I know. That just sounds illogical. Well, it is. They seem to think that they might have a problem getting on the interstate of 65mph so they slow down to assess the traffic. It just seems pretty stupid to me to do 45 or 50mph onto an interstate where people are going 65mph. I wonder why other people honk or yell at these idiots. OK, maybe just me. 2. Stopping to see if they can merge with traffic. Yep. Another one that just seems to stupid to be true. But they do it. The on and off ramp is the same and short. So instead of just going and know that the the person getting off has to let you on, so you keep moving attitude, they do not. Instead, they stop and wait until there is no traffic coming. Let me remind you that San Antonio is the 7th largest city. So I ask you, what do you think are the odds that no one is coming off the interstate? So you can see the frustration. My favorite is right around rush hour when the other roads or interstates become parking lots because stupid people are waiting to get on the interstate. 3. Going below the speed limit on the interstate. Didn't think I would ever have to complain about something like this. But yes, here in San Antonio many people can't seem to drive at 65 mph. Why? WHy? WHY? I really really really don't understand. 4. Hitting your breaks on the interstate when taking the exit ramp. Ok, you have me here. Are they afraid that the exit may just drop off? 5. Not following the white lines. At a stop light when turning, why are the white lines optional? I have almost been hit many times when the second lane turns into the second lane but the first lane takes the first and second lane. I am supposed to automatically go into the third lane? I don't understand. If your big stupid truck cannot turn the corner don't drive it or get into the second lane. Why is this so hard. 6. Inching off at the green light. This is infuriating. Why do you finally find the time to hit the gas pedal. There shouldn't be 30 secs more of us sitting at the light waiting for everyone to move. Come on people. 7. You have to be on guard here. More times than not, people just aren't paying attention and cross over the white and yellow lines. I use my horn regularly to remind people that even a mini cooper needs more room in my lane. The weather is hot, the people are not so great and the traffic is stupid. I don't love this city. I can barely contain the road rage over the stupid people here. This may be biased due to the fact that I almost got hit twice on my 10 minute ride to work this morning.
posted by Sonya @ 8/22/2013 09:44:00 AM, ,
To Know Marty
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
It is weird, but I started this post on 8/24/12. I wrote and cried and wrote some more, but couldn't find the 'feel' that I was looking for. It is a year today since he passed and I still can't find the right words. A year of trying to pick up the pieces and smile like all is getting better. In some ways yes, but in many others no. His passing has made a difference and I am sad in oh so many ways. So here is what I wrote a year ago that I couldn't post.... 8/24/12 To know Marty is to know the many quirks that make him who is he is. I love him for him. Marty was unique in the way that you knew exactly where you stood with him. You could joke about nothing or even at the moments you know you are supposed to be serious. You could also know that he was really mad at you but would still drop everything in a second if you needed him. He was my rock. Sometimes there is that person in your life that you know has your back regardless of the situation. I have my Mom and I know that she will be there, but if for any reason she couldn't, I never had to worry, Marty was always there. To Marty was to know his quirks that made him Marty. Here are a few that I fondly remember, Mint Milano Cookies. From the very beginning of Mom and Marty dating, I can remember these cookies playing a significant role. Marty would buy them and instruct us that they were for him only and we couldn't have any, not even one. Well, that was never gonna work. So Sarah and I would eat one or two or all. Or maybe just half of each cookie and put them back. Or maybe that day we just wanted to lick them all and put a note in the bag. This of course didn't stop Marty. So it became a running game in the family. He would buy, we would eat. We would buy, and he would eat. Then in those last months, I stopped off at the store on our way home from Radiation. He said he didn't want anything, but I bought them anyway. He ate most of the bag on the way home. I did it just to get a smile from him. Those cookies became a symbol to me. I can't look at them without thinking of Marty. This cookie is for you. Cutting Rocks. Yep, Marty liked to cut rocks. Whether it was with the lawn mower or weed eater, he chopped every last rock he could find whether it was in Illinois or Iowa, they didn't stand a chance. He spent hours cutting the grass all the way to the rocks and cutting the rocks all the way to the dirt. He spent hours fixing the weed eater and trying to figure out why the blade on the lawn mower was half it's size and bent up on the edges. Those rocks didn't stand a chance. Nemesis = Leaves. Oh the leaves and Marty danced and danced for minutes and hours and weeks and years. This game they played. Marty raked and carried to the woods. The wind would bring them back and the trees would let more fall. But Marty would not submit. He raked for hours each and every day of every weekend until every last leaf was removed for the minute or hour to which it stayed away. I suppose it was not nice of us to run through his piles or strategically place leaves on the lawn. I know he could not let those pesky leaves win no matter the weather or circumstance. I shall miss the comforting routine of Marty raking only the front yard over and over again. I will admit that I found it funny that in all that time he spent raking, he only ever had time to keep the front yard leaf free. But what a beautiful 'no leaf zone' it was. This leaf is for you Marty, may it quake in it's leaf boots and never return to the front yard. Emotional Talks. Maybe you never realized that Marty could give emotional and inspirational talks to change your life path. I experienced two such of these. The first after my first boyfriend dumped me. I was distraught like any other lovesick girl who thought she would never be the same. Marty told me when we had a moment alone, that "I was an intelligent girl, I could do better, he was stupid for ending it and he would regret it later in life. And that I need to move on now because there was nothing I could do about it". In all honesty, his pep talk helped. Conversations were few and far between with Marty. Ones dealing with feelings were a never kinda thing. So for him to tell me that I could do better and that he thought the guy would regret it meant a lot. And when Mom told me how mad Marty was and how he wanted to hunt the guy down to have a talk with him, I felt much better and got on with the getting over it part. Funny enough, the second talk from Marty came in an email. I would email Marty from time to time with questions of things, mainly about finances or things I was considering. We talked when I was home from college or when he insisted to my Mom to pick me up from the Airport. So in the two hours to get home, I often filled him in on the latest of my life. So went our normal conversing and exchanging of information. Thus, after disclosing to my Mom that the recent and late boyfriend at the time had cheated on me and we were finished, I was very surprised to get an email from Marty. It was in his usual brisk manner, but the content was surprising. He was being a Dad. He told me that GUY was an idiot and that someone like him wasn't worth wasting minute on. He told me to not let someone like him impact my life in anyway because he didn't deserve it. He also said he would contact him if I needed him to to 'take care of things'. He told me I was strong and that I would get over this quickly and that I deserved so much more than this guy. And he told me that he never liked him anyway. This email I found so endearing and it meant so much to me. Well, I didn't need Marty to 'take care of things' whatever that meant anyway. When he picked me up from the Airport a month or so later, he only inquired if I was OK, did this guy still bother me, and was there anything thing that he needed 'to take care of'. I always meant to ask him what that meant, but I never really needed to know I guess. The fact that he was going to was enough for me. Thanks for being my 'take care of it' guy. Marty was not a handy man. I know this might sound crazy to you. He was one of the smartest people I ever met. He could tell you so many things about so many things. But please do not give him a hammer. He may hurt you or me or whatever he is trying to nail. My fondest memory is building the deck in Alpharetta, GA. Mom has her hammer, tool belt and 16 penny nails. Marty goes to get the hammer he bought and comes out with this 'thing' that can only be described as a 'thing'. It was not a hammer. Well, maybe in the north pole it was a hammer used by the elves. I like to call it his 'dink dink hammer' because when he tried to drive home the 16 penny nails that is what is sounded like. Marty did not quit. He worked on each and every nail to drive them home. It may have been 8 to 10 minutes per nail but he stuck right with it. Marty the tool man. The burbs.
posted by Sonya @ 8/21/2013 11:44:00 AM, ,
