A Little Learning Is a Dangerous Thing...

I've learned a few things over the past few days. On Sunday, during lunch, I learned that the female counterpoint to "bromance" is "womance." Look up "womantic" on Urban Dictionary. It's legit. I don't think it is as good a word as bromance, though. Saying "womance" out loud just makes me sound like I have some sort of lisp.

We also determined that "rotic" is a one-person romance. (Romance without the "man.") I hesitate to use this word as well. It's only one syllable away from erotic.

On Monday night, I went to the Warriors game with Justin Travis and G.Woozy. It was totally spontaneous; when I woke up Monday morning I had no plans to go to Oakland. I had a job workshop thing from like 8:30AM-3PM all the way in the heart of the Tenderloin, so I took public transportation. Now usually when I take the bus I bring my backpack to carry my stuff. When I drive myself, I usually don't bring my backpack unless I need it for some purpose. After the workshop, I got a ride from someone to go to work. From there I bussed it over to the BART station and met up with the other guys.

So what I learned when I got to Oracle Arena is that there IS an advantage to having a purse. Garland also came straight from work and he was toting his manbag/murse/whatever you wanna call it. I still had my backpack.

Did you know that you have to check in your backpack at a claims check before entering Oracle? But they let people bring their purses right in! So I had to check in my backpack, but Garland was allowed to enter with his murse. It wasn't like it was a tiny murse, either. I'm sure it could fit just as much stuff as my backpack. But they let him right in. I saw women in there with purses that were even bigger than his, too. It just ain't fair that they were allowed to bring those in there.

Ever since the whole metrosexual thing became trendy and guys started sporting the murse, I've had nothing but scorn and derision for manbags. Just didn't see the appeal of them. Now I have learned a valuable lesson.

I ain't saying that I'm gonna go out there and buy one for myself. I can't justify spending the dough right on such a frivolous item right now. And I ain't saying that I have a newfound respect for the murse, either. I'm just saying that I've learned a valuable lesson.

So it's like they say, Knowledge is power. And with each passing day, I only grow stronger.

I Is for Imagination

Sometimes, when I am sitting in the passenger's seat while someone is driving on the freeway, I imagine what it would be like if I grabbed the steering wheel and swerved into the divider. I wonder how hard I would have to swing the wheel to cause us to hit the divider at an angle to do some real damage. I wonder how much it would hurt.

I imagine scraping against the divider for a few meters before wildly spinning around and getting slammed by the cars behind us, who don't have time to react. I imagine metal smashing into metal, glass shattering, fuel tanks leaking, and someone's lit cigarette landing on a puddle of spilled gasoline. I imagine being trapped by a malfunctioning seatbelt, with a few broken bones in my body, in a burning wreck of a car. Would I die with my eyes opened or closed?

I imagine how simple and easy it would be to grab the steering wheel unexpectedly from someone. I imagine how tidy and tragic death would be. I imagine going home.

I don't have a deathwish. I just like to imagine. Sometimes, that's all I can do. It's all I can do to feel alive.