Special Story Time: I Get Relevant

I consider myself generally ill-informed, especially in regards to current events and other happenings. I don't stay abreast of news primarily because it requires effort but also because I find events occurring outside my mind confusing and/or depressing. Why not live in Magic Magic Land? I do!

I find maintaining a tenuous grasp on reality make existing more manageable...but there are drawbacks. For example, experiencing shock when discovering the ol' town lake exploded. A week ago.

Majestic dumping of trout circa November

I know I didn't ask, but I still feel like someone ought to have told me since this tragedy is actually relevant to my life, unlike most humanitarian crisis. And I know I'm normally too selfish to care when public parks explode but Tempe Town Lake actually held personal significance to me. Gather round, and I'll tell you about it- Special Story Time!

Special Story Time

There was a time, year(s) ago, when I was not the worldly traveler I am today. I was young,, naive, provincial even. I'd lived in Mesa my entire life and had never even tasted gougeres. So I was naturally excited to move into the ASU dorms in Tempe, literally miles from my birth home. Alas, this move did not prove to be the cultural awakening I longed for. I tried to make the best of dorm life, hilariously quipping to my sister:

"I live in a daycare that smells like pot!"

Despite my saintly tolerance, the crassness occasionally became too much, and I'd find myself heading toward Tempe Town Lake's concrete "shores." Once I reached the cement walls retaining the water, I'd close my eyes, hold my breath and evoked my over-developed power of pretend. I'd pretend to be anywhere with a real lake. Anywhere more sophisticated than Tempe. Like Paris. Or Detroit. (Geography Zing!)

Once I returned from New Zealand, completely cosmopolitan, with a working knowledge of bodies of water I stopped going. I feared this practice might cheapened my memories of actual lakes. And now I'll never know! Sure, I could walk down and watch the alligators eat the dying carp, but it wouldn't be the same.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm glad these misunderstood creatures are finally getting to have some fun. But I do feel my distress and grief over this matter entitle me to some compensation. I feel I'm owed something by the city of Tempe. Like a pet alligator.
I'd name him Petey and we'd be best friends and even better business partners. Like Shaun and Gus!

Drawing done with a Holiday Express pen on Fairfield Inn paper

Oh, the times we'd surely have!

Morally Invincible: What it's like to have a Canadian Friend

I know this might come as a shock, but I sometimes suffer from self-doubt. It's true. Sometimes, I get to worrying that I'm too racist, or too hateful, or not law-abiding enough, et cetera and I get really down on myself.

But then I remember one special thing that reminds me I'm basically more tolerant that anyone else in the world:

I have a Canadian friend.

Yes, that's right- Canadian. And I'm still charitable enough to spend time with her. Lord knows, it's not easy. There are days when I question whether it's even worth it. Days when the her meekness, her bumbling incompetence, and her damn wimpy scarves seem like they're too much to bare. But then I remember Steve Nash and I know I can make it work.
I smile, ignore her accent and gently remind myself that she can never be a natural-born American like me, no matter how hard she tries.

I'm not saying I'm perfect, just morally superior.

The Time for Humility has Ended. I am a Great and Powerful Person.