Tuesday, August 28, 2012

I don't have a creative title today.

I almost feel like I need to be consistent with my inconsistency and keep up this trend of posting sporadically every few months or so.  But what can I say?  I've felt the love lately, and....I give the people what they want.  Which is more insight into this conundrum of thoughts going on in my noggin every day.

Which brings me to this...

1.  This Lance Armstrong "scandal" has really thrown me into a tizzy. (I'm feeling British this morning...or whatever nationality/species it is that uses the word "tizzy.")  The ADA declared him guilty recently, after Lance bowed out of an arbitration hearing fighting the charges that he doped from 1999-2005.  Lance claimed that he was tired of the fight to prove his innocence, and that the ADA claims were baseless and it was a witch hunt to try to strip him of his Tour de France wins; something that my dear friends at the Ticket don't feel will happen, considering the ADA doesn't have the power to strip him of his titles.  I agree that Lance really chose the lesser of two evils, and that no matter what, this situation is a lose-lose for him.  If he went through with the arbitration, person after person would come forward, claiming that they "saw Lance doping with their own two eyes," thereby ruining his reputation indefinitely, not to mention his Livestrong organization/foundation.  The arbitration would carry on for weeks, each day with more ugly claims, and of course, who would ever believe these claims to be false or libelous?  There's no proof.  The guy passed more than 500 drug tests, and yet the ADA is still claiming he doped?  What's the point of drug tests then, if you're only going to refute their credibility?  The other choice, the one Lance chose, is to give up the fight, consequently giving the ADA what they want by declaring him "guilty."  True, his reputation may take a bit of a beating, when all those (for lack of a better word) haters, begin singing their "I told you so"s.  Is it so unbelievable that a man who battled testicular cancer could win a cycling race 7 times on sheer talent and determination?  And if that is too hard to wrap your head around,then why is it soooo hard to believe that the ADA has ulterior motives and is a corrupt governing organization who has nothing better to do than to make baseless claims that would jeopardize one of the most honorable, gifted cyclist this world will ever see?  Oh that's right...we only see the bad in people.  Maybe Lance did dope during his winning streak.  But until you show me the smoking gun, he's a-OK in my book.

2.  I love watching people drive.  It's one of the most vulnerable times in a person's life...and yet there are so many witnesses to it.  Complete strangers.  I personally sing...nay...BELT it while I drive.  Sometimes I plug the ol' iPod in and jam out to songs I know I sound good on...other times, I try out songs I know I don't sound good on, because it's the only time I'm completely alone.  (I'm fairly sure hubby jams out to the show I put on in the shower sometimes).  It's one of the most embarrassing things when someone catches me.  The worst is when it happens at a stoplight.  I still haven't decided if I should keep going, confidently shrugging them off like I'm not bothered by their awkward glances, or if I should stick to my instinct and snap my mouth shut and turn bright red in the face.  (This is what I usually do).  I love that distracted driver (you know, texting/putting on makeup/eating/reading my blog/taking a nap while driving) who reacts by throwing up his or her hands in defiance and giving a dramatic "WHAT?!" look after nearly side swiping the car in the next lane.  I want to follow that person to wherever they're going, get out of my car and say "I'm so sorry I almost interrupted your driving by....my driving.  And I apologize even more deeply for honking my horn at you to alert you to the fact that you almost just took my life while you were applying a second coat of mascara to your already overly-mascara-ed spider eyes.  I know now that the sound of a horn apparently strikes a nerve.  Next time, I'll whisper 'watch out' and hope you hear me."

There's more in my head...but my fingers hurt.  

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