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Category Archives: storytime

This was originally an aside from the life-crisis post, but it ended up being longer than I thought.  So here’s the story about that young guy in the car who inspired my idea about random fraction life crises.

My sister, bil, and I were on surface streets and the streets were relatively full. Every time we’d get stopped at a light, the dude would rev his engine. And when the light changed, he wouldn’t immediately move forward and he would rev like he was going to peel out and speed off. Except…he wouldn’t.

He would rev and rev and let the space between him and the next car lengthen. And then…he would start driving forward fairly slowly. It wouldn’t be a crawl, but his start would be slower than mine and I try to start smoothly from a stop instead of just stomping on the gas. It was really strange to see that.

What was even stranger was that he would start building speed and would have room to speed up even more, but then he would suddenly change lanes so that he would be behind a slower car. He would then brake and look all annoyed (it was a convertible and the top was down).

My sister, bil, and I discussed this and I think the consensus was that the guy is intimidated by his car. He doesn’t actually know how to drive it. The way the car was moving made me believe that it had a manual transmission, so we think that this guy isn’t that comfortable driving stick.  He would rev and rev to make sure everyone knew he had an expensive fast car…and then make himself look like an idiot because he would drive pretty slowly for all that build up.

On top of that, the moment he started getting too fast for his comfort (which would have been like 40mph and the speed limit for that section of road was 50mph), he would change lanes so that he was behind a slower car so it would seem like other people were preventing him from going faster. I guess it would have worked better if he would change lanes and try and make a turn or something. But he would change lanes when there was a huge gap between him and the next car and it would be a straight section without any lanes for turning.

Not sure if I can roll my eyes any harder.

Hi…I’m back.  I think.  Hopefully.  Going to try the once a week posting schedule again.  I guess I’ll see how well I can keep it up.  I guess?  Anyway, here’s a story about how I don’t exist.

A-pusher was sneak promoted recently at work. I say sneak promoted because THEM, at least in the LA area, has this thing about not telling people they’re going to be promoted beforehand and also not working out any of the details that go along with a promotion and just surprising them with some kind of promotion celebration. Normally a dinner at a restaurant. It’s supposed to be this big secret…but people here aren’t that subtle or good at keeping secrets.

So…this happened to A-pusher recently and she found out about all of this. Because she found out about it, we were able to talk openly about how dumb sneak promotions are and how we didn’t like these celebratory dinner things. As it turns out, A-pusher’s family isn’t huge on these sneak celebratory dinners either and they told A-pusher that at least they finally get to meet this “[Moose]” A-pushers speaks of.

You see, A-pusher and I have fairly similar interests. We both like to cook, bake, sew, craft, etc etc. We’re both trained electrical engineers. We’re both pretty good controls engineers. So we sometimes end up in each other’s conversations with other people. In A-pusher’s case, conversation often has to do a lot with food. And A-pusher’s family were supposedly finally going to be able to put a face to my name.

Except…not.

Because I didn’t go. Psh, you didn’t think I’d attend such a social event, did you? Because I didn’t.

However, I did find out beforehand that A-pusher’s family wanted to meet me, so I worked it out beforehand with a few of our coworkers that they would introduce themselves as…themselves, but then also as me. Like…”Hi, I’m [Pengy]. Also, I’m [Moose].” This concept and the accompanying mental image of all of this playing out was vastly amusing to me.

I checked in with A-pusher and some of our coworkers the next day and the result was we have all decided that I’m A-pusher’s imaginary friend. It turns out that pretty unknowingly played into the game by recounting a story of lemon tarts. I guess pretty has the same imaginary friend as A-pusher.

Perhaps you’re wondering why no one showed A-pusher’s family a photo of me. Duh, because none exist. This was bewildering to A-pusher’s sister. She apparently demanded why no one had a picture of me. I guess the general excuse was that no one would dare try to take a photo of me. 👍

But I quite like this idea that I’m the imaginary friend. I am SO. AMUSED. by this idea. I’m not entirely sure why. I wonder if this is a newfound super power: the ability to become someone’s imaginary friend. I will have the think about this.