Stark realizations

Driving time is thinking time. So the other day as I was driving a long stretch by my lonesome, I was listening to the music and getting lost in my thoughts. And being particularly honest with myself. Here are the stark realizations I faced on that stretch of highway:

• I am a Utah driver. This one was difficult to come to grips with, but I think it's at least partially true. I speed, I tail, I sometimes pass on the right...and I yell at anyone who thinks they can also get away with those things. Solution? There isn't one. I was stuck behind a van at a stop light the other day, and they were being idiots about the construction downtown. I found myself grumbling words like 'moron' and 'stupid' and wanting to zip around them at the earliest possible moment. I guess I was always one of those people who assumed I was a "good driver," but now I realize that I can no longer pretend that I somehow know better and should give everyone a lesson in road rules.

...and this got me thinking, "What else have I been missing about myself?" Apparently a lot.

• I am a 'real' girl. I always wanted to not be like stereotypical girls (the ones who like clothes and shopping and act helpless around guys), but the older I get, the more I have come to find that I actually do like shopping for clothes and flirting with guys. I wish I could say this was a problem, but I've found myself responding by saying something about it being my prerogative as a woman to want to look hot and be independent. So I will pay a few extra dollars to have my hair look good. And I'll change my outfit a few times before I leave the house. And I can still be proud that I own a Leatherman. I don't have to fit in one bucket or the other, but I am starting to lean toward the 'girlier' end of the spectrum. Thanks a lot, What Not To Wear. Just today I went to the Gateway and walked around for some retail therapy. Bought two pairs of shoes. See? Girly.
• I think I have some form of ADD. I'm beginning to find it very difficult to concentrate on a task before me, even if it's something I want to do. That could just be my propensity to procrastinate, but I think I have a mild form of attention deficit disorder. For example--even with television watching, I can't focus. I have five different television shows I'm watching at the moment, all on DVD. It's great because I have a disc of each of them in the changer, and whatever I'm in the mood for, that's what I watch. I believe my ADD is affecting my blogging, too...this post has taken me days to finish. And writing is something I enjoy doing!
• I need to stop drinking carbonation. Not that it's good for anyone, but for someone who struggles with acid reflux problems, it's extra bad. You would think that it would be like someone telling you that you have diabetes and you should stop eating sugar or you'll be facing trouble. Remember my dental problems? They think they're exacerbated by all that lovely acid that rears its ugly head. What to do...? If you see me drinking something with bubbles, gently prod me to stop. I'll probably hang my head in shame, but you know best.
• I used to be a goody two shoes...but not so much anymore. Wait, hold it--I'm not saying I'm not religious, because let's face it, I am. I'm a firm believer that I shouldn't be judgmental because everyone's got their own problems. I know I certainly struggle with my own, and I would hate for people to hate on me because of things I do/have done/think. And I'm definitly not saying I'm perfect at the non-judgmental stuff! In another vein of angelicism (or annoying snottiness), I am not as high-falutin' about things as I used to be. I've asked many people what their first impressions were of me many years ago. Most of them say that they saw me as stand-offish and conceited. That could be because I was extremely shy and didn't want to talk to anyone, but I didn't like what I heard. So I've tried to stop my seemingly pretentious ways and just try to act normally. Whatever normal is...that's something I'm still trying to figure out.
• I'm not an afficianado at anything. See, when I have a car problem, I call my dad. He knows everything about cars. If I want to know when a tv show premieres, I call over my cubicle and ask Lacy. And I know she'll have a review about it on her blog later, too. If I want to sing camp songs or rock songs or anything accompanied by the guitar, I call James. Yeah, I'm good at lots of stuff, but no one thinks, "Hey, I need help with {insert difficult task here}. You know who I should call? Annie." And that's ok. I do tons of awesome things, so I'm completely satisfied with that.

And how about a less-than-stark realization I had when I was talking with some friends? Did you know that the theme song to M*A*S*H has words?! I have no idea why I didn't think about this or just figure that the song would naturally have words. But Suicide Is Painless was a song used in the original M*A*S*H movie, complete with words. Ha! Well, you learn something new every day.