The logic of my shoes, and other such things.

I noticed something today.

Well, no, that isn't quite right. I've noticed it before. I've just never cared to remember it or think about it before.

I like bright colors.

I'm not talking a nice shade of blue, or deep red. I'm talking bright neon I'm-going-to-go-blind-if-I-stare-at-that-too-long colors. Not only do I love these colors, but I'm happiest when wearing them.

This is ironic, as I both love getting lost in a crowd and being the person everyone notices. If I could do both at the same time, that would be nothing short of the greatest thing ever.

Nobody ever said I wasn't one big walking contradiction did they? If you did, you stand corrected.

It isn't news to me that I prefer to wear clothes that can cause seizures, but as I was looking down at my new lime green shoes and neon blue TMNT shirt, I had to ask myself one thing. Why?

Most people don't dress the way I do, that's for sure. They all seem content with their blacks, browns, and grays-- colors I will avoid whenever humanly possible.

My conclusion?

SO I DON'T GET HIT BY FREAKIN' CARS!

Those of you who make fun of me for my phobia of crossing the street-- and you know who you are-- don't understand that it is a daily hazard I have to face. 6 out of 10 times when I'm crossing a road, or even a driveway, parking lot, or the entrance to a parking place, some car is going to shoot out of no where and try and take me with it.

Today's example? I had a close encounter with a fire truck.

I don't know if he wasn't paying attention or if he wasn't. All I know is I heard a honk, looked up, and found myself staring at the front end of one of those big red engines less that two feet from my face. I looked up, all wide eyed and trembling with Ice Age 2 quotes flashing through my brain (if you don't know the one I'm talking about, you haven't watched that movie nearly enough). Staring right back at me is this guy that can't be much older than me, looking just as terrified. I waved at him, he waved back, and we continued on our paths (me first, obviously).

Not two blocks later, this van tried to run a red light while I was crossing!

WTF, mate? Have I got a 'Please hit me and end my semester of misery' sign on my back or something (not a bad idea, if it comes to it).

I'm not sure that the florescent clothing helps with this or not, but since I put on those shoes and this shirt, no cars have tried to cut short my existence. I had to shake hands with a homeless guy, who shook hands like a dead fish (different rant entirely, there), but the cars have temporarily left me in peace.

I wonder how long I can wear this shirt...