A Post About a Different Finger

I have a problem. SOB has been aware of it for some time, but only recently shared with me that he's concerned.

I'll admit that I do have a fair number of vices. When I'm not pregnant, or nursing, or pregnant (or nursing, for christ sake!) I tend to drink a little more wine than I should. And tequila. I have horrid eating habits 50% of the time. For breakfast today I ate cereal that is based on a candy bar and then followed that up with a cookie. I don't get enough sleep. I swear. A lot. Even more in real life than here on the blog. But none of these are the issue that concerns SOB. He's worried because when I am behind the wheel of a car, or a passenger, or walking down the sidewalk near cars, I tend to be very, um, liberal with making offensive gestures.

That's right. I casually flip the bird to every third car that passes me. Old ladies? Bird. Federal workers? Bird? Impressionable teens? Double bird. Ass holes with mega-expensive gas guzzling vehicles that think that the 'No Left Turn' sign doesn't apply to them? Double bird, followed by honking and a 'fuck you' out the window.

When forced to face facts, I have to admit that my finger flipping tendencies have increased over the past year. I think, in part, that this is due to the polite nature of southern folks. In Philly, give someone the bird and they're likely to not only return the favor, but to give you a little cherry on top. Or they might point a gun at you. (That actually happened to me once, by the way.) Fear of retribution always helped to keep my digits in check back up north. But here? Flip someone off and they apologize, through facial expression or vehicular deference, for whatever they did that offended you so.

Additionally, I think I've been embracing my middle finger, subconsciously, to keep the Philly in me alive. Coupled with complaining about the piss poor Chinese food and the ever-present roaches, being a little brash behind (or next to) the wheel has been a way for me to hold on to a little of the northeastern part of me. Which is funny considering I never really utilized the middle finger much back up north.

SOB's main concern is that I'll continue my bad habits upon our return to Philly, and get myself into trouble. Or get him into trouble, since I 'salute' other drivers just as much when he's driving as when I am driving. Also, he's a little worried about Sam developing bad habits of his own from observing me. But he can't really argue that point with me until he stops screaming 'cock licker!' at his video games while Sam is in the same room.

So for the next two months I am going to make a concerted effort to find a more peaceful, healthy way of expressing my emotions while driving. Even if it means utilizing some pretty gruesome aversion therapy.