Billy Ray Cyrus So Wants To Be Me

(Click for larger image (of the mullets not me)) As you can see, I am determined to make the best of this whole hair situation. At least now I can join a really bad 80's pop band. Also I think the positioning of my head over the other two chaps was quite genius and a complete mistake.

This morning while driving to work I had on my classical station. This story has two parts, and since my sister thinks I tell really long stories that are often disjointed and confusing I shall separate this story.



Part One: Why I Listen To Classical Music While I Drive, or How Ashley Became A Nice Driver


I really love to drive. I like abandoned roads and winding streets. I like the trees creating shade and I like the wind blowing through my open window. I find driving relaxing. I do not like other people who drive. Thus I have some of the most horrible road rage known to any person. People who think I'm wonderfully sweet and kind would be shocked to hear me when I get on the freeway or on busy streets. Part of why I get road rage is because I happen to live in California where no one knows how to drive, and I was taught to drive by my father who learned to drive in Oregon where apparently everyone knows how to drive well, just not over the speed of 45MPH. I hate it when people don't use their turn signals, are obnoxious with their horns, or cut you off just to try and get ahead. While I do not curse (much), my driving vocabulary usually consists of the words Moron, Idiot, Jackass, Asshole, Loser, Poop face, Bimbo, Dumb ass, Freaking Jerk, Effing Retard (and yes I do actually say "effing"), and other really unattractive names. I hate this about myself. I would really like to be the calm, "oh dear you cut me off, well no harm no foul" kind of driver I should be. But actually I am a monster.


Jessica had to take a quiz for traffic school a couple of weeks ago which told you if you were an angry aggressive driver or not. I am. I had the worst score of anyone, because I was "enraged" by people who do not use turn signals and make unsafe lane changes. So instead of being angered by this I decided to change this fact. That night I was driving back from somewhere and accidentally hit on the classical radio station that is programmed into my stereo. I meant to hit the one next to it, the Classic Rock and Metal station. Well they were playing one of my very favourite pieces of music, so I listened. And I didn't scream at a single person who was a stupid driver. Long story short, I now only listen to classical music when I'm driving because not only do I not yell at anyone anymore I also drive slower (thus avoiding more speeding tickets). It's actually kind of funny, because when some one does do something to make me exceptionally mad I turn up the music and it all goes away. And that is the end of story one.



Part Two: The Gold and Silver Waltz, or Why The Crap Does No One Dance Anymore?

So while listening to my station this morning There came on a waltz. It was called the Gold and Silver Waltz. I did not get the name of the composer so if anyone knows I would be much obliged. Anyways. So there I was driving down Victoria avenue and I began to wonder why no one has dances anymore. The only dancing people can do anymore is the "bump and grind" or the "Faux Lesbo" at trashy clubs, or you can go join a social dance group which instantly labels you as a "dork." I know many a people who do the later, and while 90% of them are in fact dorks, some are not. So I would like if it would become cool to waltz and foxtrot. We should bring back community dances, which would also give me a reason to wear a ballgown for once in my life. And that is the end of this story.

I am sorry for a rather uninteresting blog as of late. My sister is getting married in 10 days and life is a little crazy right now. It may or may not be a little on the silent side here over the next week and a half. I still have to make my dress. I haven't even cut it out yet.