I'm feeling a little ill today (hacking cough), but that's better than how I felt last night (weirdly depressed).
Driving home from the 4:15 showing of "Dawn of the Dead," which was fairly amusing, I got into a yelling fight with a crazy person as I was turning onto Hollywood from Vine. I must have been on edge from all the zombies, because I was yelling "fuck you!" really loudly out of my open car window. Eric can back me up on this: I was on the phone with him at the time, which is why the crazy guy was yelling at me.
I rarely talk on the phone while I'm driving, but I was doing exactly that last evening. As I approached the intersection, I stopped on green even though I was turning right because there was someone in the Hollywood Blvd. crosswalk. In the Vine crosswalk directly in front of me was the crazy guy, yelling at me to get off my phone. I completely understand this sentiment if it involves a driver who is paying no attention to pedestrians while on said phone. I, on the other hand, was paying too much attention to pedestrians, having subsequently gotten into a screaming match with this particular one. I had done nothing to compromise this man's safety, so in my defense, I shouted very loudly that I was stopped on green because "there was someone in the fucking crosswalk!!" That did not appease him, and he shouted back that I should get off the phone "or he would take everything" from me. I assume he was referring to legal action, which amused me even as I continued my tirade, because this guy clearly had no idea how little everything I have is worth. Was he enticed to fake sue me by my luxurious 1995 Subaru station wagon?
Anyway, the whole thing freaked me out and made me wonder if I had done something horrible while driving and talking. Did I encroach on the crosswalk? Did he have a walk signal? I know neither of these things is true, but I had begun to think of myself as one of those car-driving, phone-talking assholes. I was really on edge when I got home, so instead of going out to dinner, I opted to eat a really crappy Trader Joe's veggie burger and drink a glass of wine. But that only made me sad (because it is sad).
Today, I feel better emotionally (fuck that crazy fucking fucker!) but worse physically. That did not stop me from visiting The Erotic Museum at lunchtime in order to write about it for blogging.la.
You can find more of the interesting word usements I structure on Apple.com.
Read my article, Better Writing Through Design, on No. 242 of A List Apart.