The reason why God didn't create real superheroes is because sooner or later you know that one of them would be in heavy traffic, and when that inevitable jackass cuts him off to shave .003 seconds off his travel time and nearly causes and accident in the process, the superhero would use his/her laser beam eyes to melt the bastard's face. And I have very little doubt that the superhero wouldn't regret it one bit.

Completely related, a jackass cut ME off this afternoon as he whipped in and out of traffic, and suddenly a police car whipped in from a side street and pulled him over. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as watching his face melt from my laser beam eyes, but it'll do.

Today was sort of a monumental day. Sort of a check mark on the list of to-do's I have in my life to go alongside other pivotal moments, like graduation, getting married, having children, and learning how to make scones without anybody helping me. Today, I dressed like an adult.

It was really a conscious decision based on a lengthy process of weighing the pros and cons of constrictive outerwear, looking my age versus looking like every other schlub in school, and whether or not steaming shirts to remove wrinkles was something I really wanted to waste time on. The feather dropped on the scales last week when I was asked if I had arrived at my daughter's school to participate in the mud walk because, and I quote, I was clearly dressed for it. Advantage: collar.

That's not to say that I'm all decked out. Getting me into a pair of long pants on a regular basis is better reserved for easing into this sort of mentality over the long haul... possibly around the time I'm forced to do so when I apply for my new job next summer. Unless I manage to change the teacher dress code by then. But for now the buttoned shirt/short ensemble seems to work. I had more than a few people asking what the special occasion was, and both my daughters wondered why I was "handsome" today, and if I was going out on a date with mommy. While I like knowing that people think I look spiffy, it's more damaging to my view of what people clearly thought about me before doing so.

However, wearing button-up shirts feels incredibly constrictive to me in a way that I can only imagine rivals what it must feel like to have a garbage truck parked on ones chest, and I'm really only used to feeling this way when I have to dress up for dinner on formal nights when I go on cruises, but I should theoretically get used to it. Right? That's right. I'll just keep telling myself that.

Now, to teach myself to breathe with shallow breaths.

A lifetime ago, my grandmother would entertain me with tales from her middle-of-nowhere farmhouse. On one instance it would be to tell me of flying saucers that could be seen over the pasture, hovering over cattle. On another it was the tale of Red Eye, a giant red-eyed sasquatch who would, on occasion, peek in her windows when he thought people were asleep. On still another, there was the story of an angel who had come down to visit her, burning his image in the window, which to me looked an awful lot like a dirt smudge. I don't really remember if I believed them or not, though I have little doubt that she did. I just remember how intently I listened to every word of every story, and how I'd ask her to tell them to me over and over.

And now, thirty years later, I pore over hundreds of pages of text on religion and mythology, and I find myself pondering children thousands of years ago being entertained in a similar fashion. I wonder if this was the way gods were made real.

Just taking a break from finals hell to wish everyone a safe and happy Thanksgiving weekend.

We should have a contest to see who gains the most weight. I bet I win. 

Sorry that I'm non-existent on the interwebs right now. I'm absolutely swamped. In fact, I'm actually supposed to be in the shower at this exact moment, but I'm not because I'm too tired after being so swamped. So, being wordless, story-less, and exhausted, I'll instead post some of these autumnal pictures that I recently took with my nifty new camera...



I actually think it's a weed, since I found it on the side of the road, but whatever.



In the South, we don't have spooky old oak trees with faces of the undead hiding in the bark. This is the best you're getting.



Observe! The only colorful tree in the South! I think it's probably turning colors because someone poisoned it with weed killer.

If I don't get back on in the next week, have an awesome Halloween! Me? I'm taking a shower.