Deja Vu. You ever have something happen, expectantly and for some reason you run this happening through your brain over and over again, so many times that when you think of it later its a lot like deja vu? I feel so bad about a recent experience, I've meant to remind myself to blog about this event, however, it's so minor that it isn't even relevant. I feel as though I could have handled it differently, but wasn't able to. Given the opportunity to go at it again, I 'd take the time out of my busy, distracted moment of cluster fuck and make sure to politely acknowledge what they hell the man was saying. Story.. I was running my errands to the county court house and tag office when I ran into a fellow at the tag office that upon me entering the door opposite of the one he was exiting, he made the first point of contact and pointed out my Clarke Central jacket. You all have seen my red and mustard colored jacket, I'm always wearing, in my photos. I love this jacket. I actually obtained it from my aunt, who got it from her brother, my uncle, who actually got it from an ex girlfriend. He's mentioned, many years ago, me giving said jacket back to him so that he could return it to it's proper owner. I was having no part of that jazz. Made sure to tell him to kiss my arse, I bought this jacket. Yes! I said BOUGHT. My aunt was having a garage sale way back when and this was hanging in the clothing section. If I remember correctly, I picked this bad boy off that rack and paid her 2 bucks for it. THAT MAKES IT MINE, BITCH! So I ran into this man at the tag office, and he just so happened to catch me at a moment of frazzle. I was rushing through the doors, folder in hand, racing to the windows so that I could rush myself back to the waiting office. I get lucky sometimes and receive a little more help from the other lady in the office, who I must say RAWKS. (She's my sister) She helps me so very much, I'm so thankful to have her there with me! So she was helping me, yet again, while I'm off running through the city picking up and dropping off paperwork for vehicles I'm working to foreclose on. My children as I call them. Lame, I know! I'm coming through the door, fighting with the godforsaken cell phone and blue tooth. Have I mentioned I repel technology? That it (technology) genuinely HATES me and chooses not to work properly whenever it deems it so necessary! Dear Technology, you suck! So I'm fighting with this damn blue tooth, cussing under my breath, pondering exactly what it would feel like to rip this thing out of my ear, pull the cell phone out of the pocket, and THROW them as hard as I can into the hard tile covered concrete foundation floors of the tag office. Awesome mental picture. Pieces flying through the air, possible police officer running through the lobby tackling me onto the ground and beating me with a stick of sorts! Awesome! But the victory within, of finally ridding myself of something, I secretly cannot live without( oops, well it was a secret.) The satisfaction of knowing, if only for a couple of days, I will no longer be haunted with THAT piece of technology. That I've somehow, if only momentarily, ridding my life of that damn technology piece of shit! VICTORY IS MINE! But only in my dreams, right?! So this man approaches me, in my disarray and points out that my jacket is a Clarke Central jacket. Whoa! All the way over here and homie knows a Clarke Central jacket when he sees one. WOW! Did I mention, I myself did NOT attend Clarke Central, but I've rawked said jacket since HIGH SCHOOL! Our colors were lame red and black just let every other slightly rural place around us. I mean what the flip, really? What is it about the Georgia Bulldogs that makes every school within a 30 mile radius want to wear those colors, let me add, we were not the Bulldogs, we were the Panthers. Why the hell would you use red and black for the panthers? Derp! I'm so distracted by my current technology melt down that I totally blow off what he is saying to me, with a quick rude snapped "No" comes rolling off my tongue. What the fuck is wrong with me? I try to amend it, but he's confused, and only replies with it's the same colors, I'm trying to back track and try to make up for the horse shit that just fell out of my mouth and realize, it's too late. I left that tag office that day feeling like an idiot, a rude arse idiot. One who can't put down the thing that makes her the maddest, the cell phone and blue tooth and have friendly conversation or just acknowledge someones curiosity and friendliness. Damn... So this has haunted me since. I have some mild hopes that I see this man again, so that I can try and be a better person. A friendlier person who commends someone for speaking whats on their mind, unless it's you being a DoInCK to me or something, and goes that extra mile to be like, hey, lets talk to this person, because I know that school jacket and maybe I'm from there or something. Weird... I know... But whatever! I'm trying to work harder at being a little slower, to be a little nicer and to try and make sure to greet everything with a smile and take into consideration it may have taken him a lot of guts to just up and out what he was thinking. It would me! I'd probably be like, hey I know those colors and just not say anything. High fives to that nameless guy who reached out to make conversation and totally got blew off by a busy bitch! MY BAD!