Another Move?

So, I did it. I made my whole new personal blog!

Bell in Real Life

So, yeah. Go there. Woo!

What's In a Name?

This blog has moved to Bell in Real Life.

A while ago I wondered about if I should still use "Bellwether" on my personal blog or if I should switch to "Dani." If you notice, even after closing 4Haelz, I'm still using the "Bell" blog moniker. And, honestly, I prefer to use "Bell," "Bellbell," or "Bellwether."

No, the name crisis today seems to be on the name of my blog.

Originally, I was using Biorythms for my personal blog. Eventually I screwed around with it enough that I messed something up with it, it started doing the date double time for each post, and I thought I needed a change. So I transferred over to here, which was originally supposed to just be a "dream journal" blog, and began writing, thinking no one would really read it but a few friends.

And now people are reading it (still just a few of you, but still) and I can't help but think the name of my blog is silly and odd and no one will get it and augh. Plus it doesn't feel like "me." It's just something I fished around for and pasted up there.

So, I guess I'm contemplating another move, for no other reason than my own dissatisfaction. Which is a pretty good reason, I would say. But at the same time, I have no idea what I would call this new blog, except perhaps "Bell in Real Life," and I can see myself growing dissatisfied with that, as well. Which makes me feel like maybe I'm just being too fickle about this.

But I still think this blog's title is kinda stupid and awkward.

You're Doing It Wrong: I am an Angry Driver

This blog has moved to Bell in Real Life.

Granted, I am the most non-aggressive angry driver possible, probably, truly, I-never-use-my-horn-or-yell-though-I-think-really-hard-about-it, but still. Anyone who has ever been on the phone with me while driving (ooh illegal) or in the car with me will hear a non-stop diatribe about the morons I am driving alongside, around or in front of. Especially right now, as my ability to sleep the last few days has taken a nose dive into oblivion.

But, hey. What bothers me about people's driving?

Here. I made a list just for you.

Driving the same speed, slower or only incrementally faster than the car in the right lane.

The left lane is for passing. PASSING. Not driving alongside to have a chat and wave party while the line of cars behind you grows ever longer. This bothers me to no end and makes me just a tad bit miffed.

Braking right up on my ass at a stop light, especially on an incline.

You know what this makes me do? I have to do that funny little double-pedal thing where my left foot is on the brake while my right foot taps the gas, because if I slide backwards even a centimeter, I'll probably tap your bumper. And I'm sure that's your plan, Mr. I have a giant red truck and I'm gonna see if I can slowly creep over the Camry properly waiting for the red light.

Constantly jockeying for position in tight traffic.

You know, I'm perfectly cool with people passing me. I like to drive fast, about 80 mph in a 65 zone (illegal again!), but I'm totally all right with moving into the other lane, where I'm able, to let people going faster go around me with only a slight comment on damn you're gonna kill yourself going 90. But when traffic is tight, and we're all waiting in lines, and you're playing the speed pass on the right to move up the left line game? I hate that, especially because they inevitably end up going in front of me, ruining my safety space between me and the next car and making me put on the brakes. And you know what? You get nowhere fast, arriving to your exit maybe five seconds before you would have earlier. Congratulations, douche?

You've been driving for how long and you don't know about cruise control?

I love cruise control. It is my favorite thing ever. Which is why I don't get how I can play "passing" games with other cars. There have been multiple occasions where another car and I will constantly be passing each other, moving into the left lane, going around, moving back into the right...just over and over. And the kicker is, my speed never changes because I have my cruise control on, and they just randomly fall behind and speed up or whatever. It's like no one ever taught them how to maintain a speed on the highway. Then I start to worry they're oblivious to it and just think I'm a competitive fiend who speeds up to pass them again after they've moved around me. Because I'm not. I just don't want to tap my brakes and drop below my set speed because they can't make up their minds.

Traffic. TRAFFIC.

But we all hate traffic, right? Eh, I don't really care so much about traffic so long as I have gas, air and some sort of beverage I can sip slowly (gotta avoid those pee breaks). What really frustrates me about traffic is when I can see the end of it. And not only can I see the end of it, but I can see the clearly defined end of it where two cars are the obvious start of all the backed up traffic behind them because they're playing the same game as the first point and acting like a living wall, where either one is unwilling to move past the other. I have been just several cars behind these before, and I don't know if I've ever been so exasperated with unknown, anonymous people outside the internet.

People who use their horn.

The car horn is the most in-eloquent, confusing, unhelpful, jarring warning in the world. How the hell am I supposed to know if that loud blast of angry noise pollution is directed at me or the person behind me? Or in front of me? How am I supposed to know it's because I am moving just a tiny bit too slow or too fast? All it tells me most of the time is that the person behind the wheel who hit it is a prick who has no idea how badly I hate loud, sudden noises and how much it makes me want to spasm jerk the wheel in sudden terror. And usually if someone is using their horn towards me, I'm already probably lost and confused and worried and stressed out enough, thank you, without your irritated BLARRGH shrieking at me.

Other drivers suck and I'm perfect. Just...just so you know.

Is Love Alive?

Stupid things I do when I'm depressed: Listen to this song.

The Worst Vampire Ever

This blog has moved to Bell in Real Life.

No, I am not talking about Twilight. They're so bad I don't even think they're vampires.

What I am talking about is me. I would be the worst (proper) vampire ever.

I've already talked about my violence issues. Couple that with the fact that I flinch at wounds inflicted on simply-drawn Family Guy characters, and you have the biggest wuss in the world. Seriously, simply describing small wounds to me tends to make me flinch or gag.

I also can't do horror movies. My own kind would freak me out. The 1968 version of Night of the Living Dead? You know, the one where the zombie is at one point clearly eating a turkey leg? I had several panic moments during this, which Jordan thought was hi-larious. I'm sure I deserve it, because I keep going "hey, let's try a scary movie" and then I go "ohgawdwhydidIdothisitwasahorribleidea."

Then there's this thing I have with my neck. I can't stand having people touch it. Like, augh. Do not touch my neck. I have to be super comfortable with you for it to be okay. I don't know why. It is just my thing. And I have it about other people's necks (so, hey, rejoice, I'll never choke a bitch).

The worst thing about me being a vampire, though? I have only one canine tooth. My mouth is too small, so not all my grown up teeth ever descended. I have a tooth on the right side that hangs out behind my front row of teeth, and on the left side? My canine is still up in my gums. It looks like I have two, because for some reason one of my other teeth sharpened into a fake canine, but I really only have one. So I would be like a mosquito and all the other vampires would laugh at me.

So yeah. I am totally not cut out for vampire-dom.

THE NOTE

No, this never happened to me. I never wrote one of these notes. I just was messing around. My brain was boredom'd.



This isn't even art. Lulz wtf?

Tie Up Your F!@#ing Mutt

I love dogs. I desperately want my own, and the only two things (big things) stopping me from this are lack of funds and transitory living conditions. If I didn't have these two problems, you'd bet I'd have a dog. A bigger dog, preferably, one to roll around with and cuddle and tousle its ears. (I know before I talked about a chihuahua, but he was adopted and that boat has sailed.)

But you know what just happened?

Jordan was knocked off his bike by an aggressive, charging pit bull, and his wrist is either broken or severely dislocated. They couldn't even x-ray it. So now this pit bull is going to be put down because of its aggressive tendencies and Texas law. You know how this could have been fixed?

Either train your dog properly or keep it in your damn yard.

You don't let an aggressive dog just wander around. You just don't. "Oh, he jumps the fence." Then fix it. If he's outside, tie him to a lead. If he's in your house, keep him from doors.

Jordan isn't very tall, but he's compact. He does martial arts and works out daily. He can fight off a pit bull and get away without being bit.

You know who can't?

I can't. Children can't. We'd have been ripped apart. It wouldn't just be a scenario of me half a country away having anxiety attacks over my mostly-fine-but-in-a-lot-of-pain boyfriend. It could have been a real tragedy.

Tie up your aggressive dogs, for fucks sake.