The most delicious of gravy

I love having something to gripe about I know nobody in my immediate vicinity wants to hear and subsequently realizing GOOD GRAVY I WRITE A BLOG NOW so I can henceforth shout said gripes to the cyberwinds and you goobers can deal with it here.

Here is one I think about every time I go to the bathroom at work:

A few weeks ago I was using the staff bathroom in the back of the shop, and as I finished, one of my coworkers walked in on me. She got that awkward surprised look and apologized, but closed the door saying "That's why you lock the door!" I shouted back to her, "No, that's why you knock," and stewed over the sink for a few minutes before reemerging. Another coworker laughed, "I heard Heather saw your hoo-ha!" and I just shook my head and went back to the front.

Though this was a relatively harmless incident on the grand spectrum of things, what disappoints me about it is what it potentially represents. Why must we constantly defend ourselves against our fellow man? Foolish me, I thought people still had manners (I mean for chrissakes at least in Missoula, right?) and were conscientious of others' needs and spaces. I guess not. In our quest for security we have replaced fellowship with fear and are consequently continuing to decline as a people.

If I am to expand this particular bathroom incident to disturbing grandness, that is.

Lock the door when you take a dump or this guy's gonna barge in and powder his nose.

THINGS I AM NOT UPSET ABOUT:

Item the first: I finally finished my classroom observations at Big Sky High school and am looking forward to my career in education more than ever. My cooperating teacher gave me a rad review and though most of her kids were squirrely freshmen, I might miss em. Ahhhh, probably not. In any case, finding out a kid finished a book for the first time in his life is one of the most rewarding things I've ever experienced, and I can't wait until it gets to happen to me more often.

Item the second: New roommate Jordan moved in last week and BROUGHT A DOG I REPEAT A DOG. Dog's name is Gyp (which, I've learned, is not short for Gypsy in this case) and I will update you on his progressive cuteness and our house's progressive hairiness as the summer continues.

Item the third: This one episode of Top Gear. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like this show in general because it's about cars and stuff, but goddamitall I love funny middle-aged British guys. The only episode I've seen all the way through is where they drive shitty off-road vehicles through the Bolivian rainforest, instead of jerking off to a new Shmerrari or whatever, and henceforth have to combat snakes and caramelized coca leaves and El Camina de la Muerte, the most dangerous road in the world. Also at one point one guy attacks another guy with a machete. SHIT SOMEONE IS GOING TO DIE A BOLIVIAN DEATH. Awesome.

Well, Sam and Max are getting hastily married in Las Vegas right now and left me to uphold the blogging and I think it's going medium well, but excuse me while I leave you to drink a Hamms and pet a beautiful dog.