Day 74

Living on the verge rather than the edge.

It seems these days that I am on the verge with everything I do.  I am on the verge of completing all the domestic chores on my list.  I am on the verge of learing a foreign language.  I am on the verge of having a spouse in the same postal code.  I am on the verge of going insane.  Always a bridesmaid but never a bride.  I am on the verge, but never quite make it.  My life has always sounded like a Country and Western Song.  "Ma feet stank, the youngens is screamin, the bills are piling up and SHE'S GONE AGAIN".  I think it's catchy.  I am still certain I have a future in song writing.  I am hoping that when I go on tour, Billy Ray Cyrus will be kind enough to open for me.  I am actually thinking a mega tour with Me, Billy Ray, Vanilla Ice and Milli Vanilli.  I think I will grow myself a killer moustache and a kentucky mudflap (mullet for those that don't know).  When they do the movie version of my life and recording career, I hope that they cast Mickey Rourke as the lead role.  Has anybody seen this guy lately?  What the hell happened?  His movie career seems to be taking off again and it sure ain't cause of his looks, but I digress.

I have noticed two things of interest this week that I would now like to share with you.  First, the French seem to be very fond of picking their nose.  Now this is not uncommon in the State either, so I am not being critical.  In fact, I am sort of in awe of the whole process.  In the States, we seem to try to reserve this activity for rush hour traffic.  I don't know why people think that they can't be seen in their car, but they can, and I see them.  I remember on pick very vividly from back in the States.  On my way to work I was stuck at a red light when the car to my right caught my attention.  It was a middle aged man and he was easily two nuckles deep and digging for ore.  I thought for certain he would soon reach his cerebral cortex, but eventually he removed his finger to examine his bounty.  Without hesitation he placed his finger in his mouth and sort of swizzled it around a bit, extracting every chuck of gooey nectar.  I nearly vomited when he actually began to chew.

The approach here is a bit different.  There is a certain social liberation to nose picking.  No need to hide the activity or be ashamed.  Pick in public, pick on a bus, pick with your friends, hell you can even pick in a crowded elevator.  There are no limits to the possibilities and I have seen them all.  It is amazing.  Nobody seems to try to hide this activity in the slightest.  This morning in fact, I passed a very well dressed gentleman on the street who I would have guessed to be walking to work and he was in full pick.  He even made eye contact with me and never skipped a beat.  Wild stuff.  It does make me think, however, that I ought to be a little more careful where I place my hands when I am out and about.  I would freak out if I grabbed a handrail and came away with a booger on my hand.

The other item of interst is that bumpers are indeed made for bumping.  I think I have mentioned this before, but I think it worth a revist given the auto collision that I was nearly involved with yesterday and the multiple collissions I witnessed today.  Parallel parking is a necessity here as the streets are quite narrow and on street parking is quite limited.  I am very careful to select an appropriate sized spot to nestle my little 206 into anytime I drive into the inner ring of the city.  I appear to be the only one.  The preferred method seems to be back up till you hear a crunch and then pull forward till you hear the same.  Continue in a back and forth calamity of miniature fender benders until your car is suffiiently out of traffic and then abandon ship as if nothing had ever occured.  I would flip out back home if I witnessed someone hit my car in any fashion, but here, it is just part of driving.  Amazingly, the cars seem to stand up to the abuse.  Perhaps our big three should start using the mean streets of my city as a proving ground for their vehicles.  If they can survive here, they can survive anywhere.

Since I do not have daycare arranged for my youngest tomorrow, I will be playing hookie from French class.  I feel bad for this fact, but since I am  the oldest in the class by a good 10 years, they will just have to understand that an adult has certain obiligations that they must attend to.  Things are still going well on that front and I really enjoy the class.  If I survive and become semi proficient, I think I will go back and dust up a bit on my Spanish.  If I can pull off three languages, I may go back to school for a fourth.  I do enjoy the educational process when my future is not on the line.  Takes some of the pressure off.  I don't have to worry about GPA, my only concern is actually learning the material.  Rather than storing the info in short-term memory for the purposes of a final exam, I get to really assimilate the information and use it in my daily life.

Hopefully by the time tomorrow rolls around, I will have enough time to get caught back up on those projects that have evaded me since beginning these classes.  Perhaps I will complete a project or two, but it is more likely that I will have to quit on the verge of completion and leave it for another day.  Until tomorrow.