Play that Funky Music White Boy

Today I woke up in a funky mood. Not a funky chicken kind of funky but just a....downright, unexplainable funky. It's like I'm angry but can't figure out why or what has set me off. I realize that I'm slightly PMSy...which for me, typically means that feelings of despair can be brought on by just about anything...including Full House episodes (we won't go into that but when Stephanie drove that car into the kitchen...oh boy). However, I'm usually extremely good at regulating my moods. Even when I feel my blood boiling, I'm pretty skilled at keepin' it to myself and not being TOO melancholy. Today....today is a little different.

And as the morning progresses, I'm starting to think that while PMS may be a contributing factor to my dismay, it isn't the heart of the matter. In fact, I fear that the real reason I am upset is so lame that I'll probably get more upset by how lame it is.

There IS one thing that sporatically comes around and bites me in the ass. I believe that is at the root of this morning's madness. But there's nothing I can really do to change it except be patient so I'll spare the details of it because it won't change anything in the end.

MPH

Being that the weather in the islands has been insanely cold lately, all of us have been forced to dig up our warm threads. However, I am pleading with people everywhere to keep windbreaker material out of your attire. I just can not stand how it makes that noise when someone moves. It's like nails on a chalkboard. The best was the guy who wore it head to toe...hoodie AND pants. Besides the obvious annoying sound it makes, I really can't help but question a windbreakers ability to break wind. How strong of a wind is it claiming to protect you against? Trade winds? Kona winds? Or are we talking category 5 hurricane winds? Does it create an invisible shield that shelters me from potential gusts? Will every hair on my head remain in the exact same place I combed it before I left? These are crucial questions to be asked. Because dammit if I'm going to purchase an item that claims to break wind, it better be powerful enough for all velocities. Especially if I'm going to look like a fool wearing it. It's almost as irritating as seeing people wear that ridiculous garbage bag, sweat suit thing when they go running. Oh boy don't even get me started on that thing. Unfortunately my own father is a fan of the windbreaker. I posed the "how much wind can a windbreaker break if a windbreaker can break wind?" He smiled and said, "you know, sometimes you gotta think less about style and more about function." Function? A cellar?...now thats functional, right Dorothy?...unbreakable windows that can be closed during a windstorm...very functional...a jacket made out of a noisy fabric that really doesn't curb wind speed.....hardly.

*Image: This is my Dad's jacket. Upon further inspection of the label...I realized....this particular one is not a "windbreaker"...but is in fact doting itself as the "Weather Tamer". Well now....quite the pompous parka if you ask me. This name alone is a whole nother blog.

Bus Encounters Vol. 1: The Wrath of the Claw Clip Lady

I catch the bus every morning and as fate would have it, I have met the rudest woman in America. She wears this hideous clawclip in her hair and her clothes rarely match. She speaks in a tongue I am unfamiliar with and has this blank, bitchy expression tattooed on her face. Kelli and I refer to her

as the "claw clip" lady and the very sight of her makes my blood boil.

She insists on being the first on the bus and will push you aside even when its blatantly obvious that you are lucky #1. Once inside the bus she roams around as she pleases, never says "excuse me" and attempts to squeeze her fat ass into the smallest of areas. So what's a girl to do in this circumstance you ask? The only thing I can do....retaliate and put my foot down. I make it known that I despise her by looking her with annoyance and by saying very loudly "YOU COULD SAY EXCUSE ME" when she tries to get through by pushing. Just so that she knows I'm not going to put up with her BS. I understand that some of us are not morning folk and perhaps we woke up on the wrong side of the bed but don't be rude for the sake of being rude. At first I tried to justify her actions with, "maybe she didn't see me" or "perhaps she and her husband had a falling out this morning" but as time passed I came to the heart wrenching realization that none of the above are true and that she is, in fact, the rudest person I have ever met. It's sad that she doesn't get the common sense rules of bus etiquette.