Yes indeed my friends. If anyone is looking for me today I will be spending it trying desperately to pry out the foot that I have jammed so successfully in my mouth. I am a Jack-Ass. Eat Crow: (Per The Urban Dictionary) To eat crow implies, at its mildest, an unpleasant action since the flesh of the crow is believed to be unpalatable. As an expression, it denotes the anguish of humiliation at having to admit to wrongdoing or fallibility, usually in the wake of hubristic actions or words.
I received a gift from my parents this morning to which I responded by sputtering apologies and poorly formed rationalizations for previously ignorant yet tasteless behavior.
Yes, you guessed it… I got a Garmin.
A what? We can't hear you Spaz?...A NAVIGATION SYSTEM ALRIGHT! A SMARMY LITTLE ENGLISH WOMAN IN A BOX! Many of you know what rabid distaste I have had for such technology until this point. Going so far as to refuse to help stranded friends who called me for help when the Nav system that I told them not to trust had left them confused and without direction. What a stubborn piece of flaming excrement I have been. And I think of myself as so open minded and progressive.
So I love maps! So sue me! (please don't). I developed a fondness for them while touring and being repeatedly let down by the fabled powers of MapQuest. I have 3 maps of L.A. and I like to think of myself as champion of the map. Forcing all of my roommates to gaze upon one every time they go to the refrigerator so they don't call me for help. Isn't there some unspoken rule? Know where you live?...at least after a year?...No?...Okay Fine.
When riding in the car with friends devoted to the portable navigation system have I not actually spat "Talk to the box! What? Her sexy English accent can't help you do that?" Sadly, I have. Even worse, when I was rescued from the airport Sunday, I did chastise my parents ALL THE WAY HOME for using the infernal contraption…that was at that moment, wrapped and waiting for me at home. I'll be picking the feathers out of my mouth for months…I have no doubt.
Is it really so bad to have the powers of a satellite at my very fingertips? Wait…I already do. My cell phone. That electronic leash that I avoided for so long…and now can't function without. If memory serves, I think I also trashed Facebook for quite a long time…and now it's like a part of my soul. One doesn't want to become so dependent on these trinkets of convenience. What if the world begins to come to an end and electricity and my memory foam mattress are no where to be seen? Will I be tough enough, sharp enough to survive those remaining days before the end? Maybe I should just buy all that Worst Case Scenario stuff and camp again. Keep it real. Keep in touch with my roots. Roots…they look so like winding roads on beautiful maps…sigh.
I have the feeling that sooner, rather than later, I will be singing the highest of praises for my new little box of brilliance. I think I'm getting soft like the Pinkberry that has situated its self so comfortably on my middle parts.