The Good Life... a weblog about life, technology, and the Opera Web browser

What is it with parents having naked baby pictures of their children? Mine were found yesterday. Let the embarrassment begin, eh? I'm sure I'll get my revenge when I take pictures of my (future) children naked and have them as ready ammunition, should they be necessary. My parents always say that their revenge will occur when I have my children. Well, believe-you-me, I have some revenge of my own for my children....

I'm told that I so loved trucks and machines when I was a child that my first word was bulldozer.

My trip to Richmond, VA yesterday was to visit my mom. I don't get to see her much, which I regret. And when I do see her, she always wants to reminisce. She talks about days when I was much younger and I smiled and giggled. Yesterday, she pulled out baby pictures. She recalled days when I watched the construction of our house, fixated by the machines and the complexity of a building project. And she searched my face, looking for signs of that person she remembered me being. He's been gone for years, but he's slowly--s l o w l y--coming back. Ironically, I mentioned how I didn't see my resemblance in the pictures--maybe it's the joy that looked so foreign. Didn't it all seem so much simpler then?

Sometimes I sit at red lights and I tell them when to turn green. I'll count down, usually from three, and the beat after one is when the light is supposed to turn green. Now, I say supposed to because it rarely works. One would figure that after all this time (for I've been doing this for years) I would know that it isn't going to work. Some people just never learn.

Speaking of driving, my step-mother says I drive like a grandmother. That just makes me think of the Taco Bell (I think it was TB...) commercial from a while back where an old woman and man are sitting in their car, the woman driving. The man begs her to slow down because she's driving like a bat out of Hades. The camera then moves outside the car where we can see the car is barely moving--typical stereotype of senior citizens. Is it so hideously wrong to try to drive the speed limit these days?