A contagion of stupidity

The other night I decided that I had spent far too much time stuffing my face and sitting on my ass (no, I was not worried that I might be getting "fat", I was simply concerned that my lungs would no longer be able to process fresh air and that my heart would seize up the next time I walked the 10 ft. to my mailbox if preventive measures were not taken), so I went for a run. The suburban South has a long history of anitpathy toward sidewalks. Perhaps this is b/c the South is still somewhat put out that it had to give up its plantations and slave labor in favor of carpetbagging yuppies and paid Mexican workers and so it attempts to cling to its not-so-distant rural past by forcing everyone on foot to trudge down poorly-maintained thoroughfares, dodging erratic traffic all the way.

At any rate, when my grandmother came to visit my mom, my brother, and me after my mom bought our first house in the more upscale town close to the shithole I currently call my mailing address, she was thrilled that my mom had managed to beat the family predictions of failure and do smthg. pretty well on her own despite that whole pregnant-at-18 thg. Nan was, however, quite dismayed at the lack of sidewalks, exclaiming, "But, Kim, where are the children supposed to walk?!" heh. I managed the hazards of suburban street recreation until I was 12 and moved to MD, where even my ghetto-ass neighborhood had sidewalks, or concrete pussy paths, as I like to call them.

But now I'm back in the almost-boondocks of GA, so naturally there are no sidewalks. Of course, in this town, there's not a whole lot of need for them since everyone is too fat and lazy to actually get out of their La-Z-Boy (R) and walk anywhere, so you can almost understand this particular oversight in city planning. Anyhow, when I go running here, I obviously have to run in the street due to the lack of sidewalks, combined w/a population that interprets its private property rights strictly and its right to bear arms freely. The other night I decided to vary my usual route and jogged through parts of my neighborhood I had not yet explored. At one point, I came to a road that is somewhat busier than the rest of the neighborhood and became quite anxious after having to dodge numerous cars who had no compunction abt. grazing me w/their side mirrors. I was already running in the bob-damned gutter, what the hell else did they want fr. me?! It was then that I happened to look at the other side of the street and was shocked to see...a sidewalk. An honest-to-God sidewalk. So I scurried across the road as quickly as I could and enjoyed approximately 50 ft. of road safety before it abruptly ended and I was once again left w/o an appropriate path. But I realized that b/c I have become so accustomed to dumb shit like no sidewalks, I don't even notice and utilize thgs. that are actually smart and make sense. A litte unsettling, really.

And I'm telling you all right now, I don't want any snide comments fr. ppl. above VA and west of the Mississippi relating this to the South and any stereotypes you might choose to employ (you know who you are). I'm allowed to talk smack b/c I'm fr. the South and I love it, flaws and all. The rest of you will be vaporized by my look of death I will telepathically send your way if you attempt to follow suit. Comments impugning my intelligence are perfectly acceptable and probably warranted, given the nature of most of my posts.

Moving on to smthg. else of a slightly stupid nature, Steve comes home in a few days. This is a relief b/c I do love Steve (in much the same way as I love the South) and it will be a relief to have him out of Iraq, but already trouble is brewing on the horizon and he isn't even in the country yet. In addition to the usual ho-related nonsense, there is also a blossoming drama relating to Steve wanting Eli to allow a (mercifully male) friend of his to live in our house for a few mos. until he gets out of the Army and goes home. Please bear in mind that while our new house is larger than their previous residences, it is by no means large and we are already going to have four ppl. living in three bedrooms and 1500 square ft. Maybe it's the Mexican in him, or maybe it's just that he's insane, but Steve thinks it would be a good idea to add another person to this, plus whatever floozy he has sleeping w/him any given night of the wk. It's really not the best idea, but usually what would happen is Eli would say no, Steve would plead and pester for a few days, Eli would say no, Steve would persist, and eventually Eli would say yes, now shut the fuck up, which is fine w/Steve, since it means he gets his way.

This time, however, it is really not a good idea for Steve to attempt that tried and true method. B/C this time Eli is in the midst of a serious (and not totally unreasonable) freak out and would probably like to knife someone as a cathartic release. And that person will be Steve if he continues to push Eli abt. this. I told Steve that he really needed to take up the issue w/Eli himself (rather than trying to go through me), but I had a brief, vague conversation w/Eli abt. Steve's request that went smthg. like this:

Eli: So what does Steve want to talk to me abt.?

Jules: He has a favor to ask you and I told him that he would probably have more luck discussing it w/you himself than having me do it b/c you're not esp. happy w/me these days.

Eli: Well, the only favor Steve ever wants fr. me is to ask for money.

Jules: Nah, despite spending a small fortune on Christmas presents for himself, I think Steve has ample funds. This is smthg. else that he put forward once before.

Eli: HE WANTS A FUCKING OTHER ROOMMATE, DOESN'T HE??

Jules: ....Uh, yeah.

Eli: No. [slight incredulous sputtering] No.

This is going to end one of two ways: Either Steve will nag Eli until he gives in and/or he'll pull a fast one and have Joe move in before Eli gets home, in which case I will be sharing a rather small house w/four other ppl., one of whom is a complete stranger, *and* Eli will use this event to stoke his barely-contained, simmering-just-under-the-surface rage and will probably die of a stroke and/or snap someone's neck. Alternatively, Eli will remain steadfast in his refusal and Steve will pout, rant, extort, and complain incessantly, until I snap someone's neck. In any event, someone is likely going to be dead in the next six mos. and I'm sort of hoping it will be me. (Not really -- calm down.)

Anyone want to come visit? Also, a betting pool is completely appropriate in this case. Just remember, I get 10% of the winner's earnings for pain and suffering.