In Proximity

I stopped in at Caribou before work to pick myself up a drink to get me through the day. I pulled into what I thought was fifteen minute parking, denoted by the 15 minute parking sign. After getting my drink, I pulled out and notice that painted into the parking spot was a handicap sign. So here’s where the confusion lies. Is it fifteen minute parking if you are not handicapped and then unlimited for handicapped people, or is it 15 minute parking for handicapped people? The last one makes me a giggle a little bit, what a cruel twist of irony.

If you haven’t heard about it, I encourage you to hop on over to twitter.com. I say this not because I think Twitter is fantastic or anything, but because it’s getting a lot of buzz lately. Twitter is an online networking website of sorts. It’s kind of something you need to see to understand, but basically, you can follow people on twitter. Everyone has a word limit of 140 words per post, and when you post something, it is sent out to everyone that is following you. The idea is that you follow people that you think have interesting things to say (or know personally) and people will follow you if they think you have interesting things to say. The problem with this is, I don’t have anything interesting to say frequently enough to post on twitter, but I’m still trying to figure out what all this hubbub is about. So if you haven’t, try making a Twitter account. Search for “Tone Hoeft” and you should be able to find me. Who knows, perhaps we can make our own twitter network? To be honest, I just want to see if this thing is as good as everyone says it is.

In other notes. I was thinking to myself the other day and there was one question I kept coming back to. Why do I do stupid things that I always regret? I learned in adolescent psychology that middle school kids, boys especially, go through a year of their life called “pseudo-stupidity,” where they make ridiculous choices because their brain is going through heavy development. The thing is, I feel like I am constantly in that stage. It’s the only thing that could explain why I make a conscious effort to do things that I regret 5 minutes later. If I have so much remorse over the whole ordeal, don’t you think I would have the foresight to understand not to do it then? Good grief.

So perhaps someday I’ll get out of this train of thought and be able to bring a little foresight into my life. I hear those things come with age. Here’s hoping.