Awesome ideas for new amendments to NC state Constitution (that compliment Amendment 1)

• Amendment 2 - grants the right to refuse the mandatory wearing of shoes.
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• Amendment 3 - grants right to refuse mandatory possession of teeth.
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• Amendment 4 - assures freedom to refuse forced education, e.g. readin' writin' and 'rithmatic - stating that: "ifn' God wants me to know about anything he'll tell me!"
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• Amendment 5- guarantees right to:  "let's us rethink that whole "women's votin' thing."
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• Amendment 6- grants freedom to challenge that whole "no shirt, no shoes, no service" thing (see Amendment 2)
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• Amendment 7 - assures right to refuse to rent to, hire, work with or worship with or accept on any level people who are: "a little light in the loafers"- "kinda man-ish lookin' for a lady" "a little foreign-y lookin'" - or - who "talk funny" - "look funny" - "act funny".
• AND THAT'S JUST THE BEGINNIN' Y'ALL - WE AIM TO TAKE THIS STATE CLEAN BACK TO THE 1950'S AND BEYOND!! YEEEEEHAWWWWW!!

A Simple Task (Lucy-style)

So ... a friend asked me to "car-sit" for him while he and his family went to Vieques for vacation. Not an uncommon request among car owners in New York City, as it eliminates expensive parking, either at the airport, or in some other parking garage, and can be a nice thing for the car-sitting friend, who, being car-less, might enjoy having a car for a week.
I did not get to enjoy having a car this time, as I didn't have time to go anywhere requiring a car. But that's no big deal. I was still happy to do it and it was no trouble.

I didn't even have to move it to a new parking place while it was on our street as per NYC alternate side parking rules, though I thought I had to, so I did. Then found out it was "Orthodox Easter Good Friday", something I didn't even know existed, much less was worth suspending parking rules for. (There must be a powerful Orthodox Easter lobby in Albany.)
Anyway, the day of their return, Orthodox Easter Sunday, I headed over to Laguardia to pick them up. Again, no big deal, it's only about 20 minutes away, maybe 30 with traffic.
But I don't drive that much - so - when I do, especially on the highway (BQE/Grand Central) - there's always a little period of "adjustment". This "adjustment period" always goes fine (thus far - knock on wood - etc) -- it's just a little ... nerve wracking at first. The speed limit on the BQE is 45 - I was going 55 - and cars were whizzing around me like it was "Autobahn Day" in Queens, rather than Orthodox Easter Sunday. Never the less, I took a deep breath, held my own, and chose not to go 70 in a 45 zone, but stuck with 55. If the "speeders" wanted to pass me, then they could. So there.
Soon, I arrive the the airport (e.g. - I see the sign, note the lane I'm supposed to be in, and actually get into it in time. Good job!) And then try to figure out where I'm supposed to park.
(they've got a kid, so better that I park and go meet them, rather than just pulling up and hustling everyone in the car, which is how I prefer to be picked up at the airport, by the way, in case you're ever picking me up at the airport - just pull up and let me hop in. Don't make me walk anywhere else. Thanks.)
I easily found a short term parking garage. Parking Garage 2 it's called.
I felt good to have figured this out so easily. I'm smart! Yay!
I parked, made sure I knew where my little ticket for the parking garage was, then put some small items into a gift bag. I'd noted earlier in the day, via Facebook, that it was my friend's wife's birthday (she's my friend to, but I've known him longer, so she's still my friend's wife, even though she's also my friend, see?) anyway - I'd put together a little present for her. I'm thoughtful! Yay!
But when I checked for that little parking ticket again, I couldn't find it. Crap! It's time for their plane to land. Damn it!
I search and search, all through my bag, my pockets, the floor of the car, under and behind the seats, on and on - for a good 10 or 15 minutes. Starting to freak out (I mean ... what do you do if you don't have your ticket? Will they let you out???) I checked my pocket one more time, and there it was; in that weird way where an item seems to have been spirited away by aliens and is then suddenly replaced, right where you've been looking the whole time. 
So then they texted me. They'd landed but were still taxiing on the runway. Great! I noted the aisle I'd parked in, E - level 1 - and headed for baggage claim.
"Hi - can you tell me how to get to Delta's baggage claim?" I asked a young man wearing an "I work at the airport" red jacket.
"Just take the shuttle bus out front..." he began.
"Shuttle bus?" I whined, "... really? But I just parked the car here! In that parking garage!"
Well that's the wrong one you dope! - I'm sure he thought, but didn't say. He was very nice.
"Oh well that's Parking garage 2, you need parking lot 4." he said. "You get 15 free minutes, so if you hurry, you probably won't have to pay."
He didn't know, of course, that I'd just spent close to 15 minutes looking for the parking ticket that aliens had snatched, held for some sort of testing, then placed back into my pocket.
Sigh.
I go back to the car, aisle E, level 1, follow the circuitous route to the exit and explain that I parked in the wrong place.  "Maybe I can just "not pay" this time and go the lot I'm supposed to be in? Where I'll have to pay again anyway?" I ask.
The answer is no. It's $3.00.
OK fine. "Can you tell me how to get to parking lot 4?"
He tells me, something about "left this, right that, follow the signs" and so on.
"Thanks." I say. What did he say?

There are too many roads and signs at Laguardia. I'm sure they could simplify it. Which is why I, somehow - I do not know how (aliens again?) took a wrong turn and ended up in a pile, a scrum, a vast sea really, of yellow cabs waiting to get the thing they get that means they can then go through and pick up a passenger.
Suddenly horns were blowing and an Indian man, around 35 I'd say, got out of his cab waving his arms at me and shouting, "I told you go left! Why you not going left? I tell you left left left!!!"
And I'm sure he did tell me that. Why he thinks I must have clearly heard him and known exactly what he was saying, that he was saying it to me, I don't know. But at the moment it was so clear that he was right and I was wrong and that it seemed not the time to parse the issue of why I failed to understand him.
Many, many drivers were looking at me by then, shaking their heads and holding their hands up to God, Allah, Ganesh - whomever - asking that the burden of understanding this strange white woman be taken from them, and that she receive help in finding her way and getting out of theirs.
The Indian man who'd tried to get me to go "left left left" decided to save me. His disdain lessened, was replaced by something resembling pity/amusement. Maybe he was a fan of I Love Lucy, and this seemed like something Lucy would do. (I hate it when I turn into "Lucy" - but that happens to everybody? Right? Right?)
So he and another gentlemen, slender with long gray dreadlocks and a beard, also laughing at me and shaking his head, (another I Love Lucy fan I'll bet) got others to back up, then moved a huge, heavy industrial barrier thing and pointed me to freedom.
"Thank you so much! I'm so sorry!" I yelled back to them, careful to keep my eyes on the road. It would be a shame to break free of the taxi cab morass only to crash into ... well anything really.

I finally reached the sweet, sweet rightness that was Parking Lot 4. Parked, went in and met my friends, presented the birthday present, and was soon dropped off, back home, safe and sound.

Simple task completed, and feeling personally "simpler" than ever.

There are many things I am good at. Driving in unfamiliar places that require lots of sign reading and direction following is not one of them. But ... I can work on that right? Left? Exit? Everybody loves Lucy right? I do.

Dry season - wetter wishes

Post much? No - not much - had a dry spell - way dry - parched - crackly -- will try to become moister now - by using mental moisturizer? A wetter, oozier virtual ink? Freshly squeezed brain oil? Something. As Bruce Lee often said - be like water. (Never once did he suggest being dry - not once)
"Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.
Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend." 

Or - just be like someone who writes more ;-)  AND - be like water. Yes. Sounds good. Splash.

whattowritewhattowrite what to write? (e.g. Embrace the abundance!)

Argh!!!! I can't pick something to write about and then do the actual writing and then put it on my blog!!! The result of this sorry situation is that I've got three half finished, or more like half-started, blog posts sitting in draft mode like drunks on a corner (e.g. doin' nobody no good!). And when I say to myself, "You really need to sit down and write something for your blog", my brain makes a buzzing noise, like the TV from my childhood when all the channels went off the air for the night.
That's right kids - TV used to GO OFF THE AIR at midnight. They would play the national anthem, flag blowing in the wind, then nothing but static until the next morning when the channels returned. 
Well - that's my brain of late.
So ... how do I get my brain to keep the channels on? Does Time Warner have a Triple Play deal that includes "my brain™"? Is there an "app for that"? Some "upgrade" to download?
There is not. It's just a matter of doing it - like now. Right now I'm doing it.
And now? Yes - still doing it. It's called "jumping in". Not like one gets "jumped in" to a gang (sure - I keep up with gang lingo. In case I'm ever invited to join one) but rather like one jumps into a lake. See? I sat down and started writing about having trouble deciding what to write about.
Next step? I googled it. And found sites like this: socialmediaexaminer.com/4-blogger-tools-for-breaking-your-writing-block And also this: unblock.org - this sounds very convincing - but costs $87 - which I can't afford right now. (though I might look into it a little later ... ) And also this: victoriamixon.com/2011/08/08/2-tricks-for-breaking-writers-block-in-1-day - which advises  "write down easy concrete details about your day to grease the wheels" and "give yourself permission to just start without having to finish or write something amazing".
All good advice. And there's piles more of course - but just these few did the trick for now. (but BEWARE over-googling - else you'll get lost in a place like this: foster kitten adopts tiny rescue chihuahua
NEVER THE LESS - my searching paid off. That "Social Media Examiner" site led me (somehow) to a news flash on searchengineland.com about the definition of Santorum ("frothy mix of etc etc") no longer being the first thing that pops up when one googles Santorum - (though it's still prominent - tee hee), which led me to read the 2003 AP interview that inspired Dan Savage to put that definition (frothy mix) on Google in the first place - plus another link, not related to that frothy topic, that gave me an idea for at least one future post. So - carpe diem. Jump in. And my conclusion is thus: This particular "writer's block" was akin to struggling to pick the best thing to cook for dinner without even entering the store. I was paralyzed in the parking lot. Instead of just going in, grabbing a cart and seeing what inspired! So from now forward - I'll just go into the damn store and pick something! Or perhaps - just look in my freezor/pantry/fridge and realize that I didn't even need to go to the store in the first place - except to find that picture of the kitten hugging a chihuahua - which was totally worth the trip.