hey First up: Bitch time. I bared my soul in here yesterday with my horrendous tale of woe and unexpected man-sex, titled "Die Moer in" (subtle hint), and not a single comment! Does that mean nobody read the entry? Which is fair enough, I suppose, since I don't read most people's entries - and there are thousands of us on here. Or perhaps nobody really found in interesting or amusing or entertaining or repulsive or whatever. I did expect one or two people might get a rise out of it, but the most comments any entry of mine has drawn is two, so I guess I shouldn't expect too much, should I? And 9if you don't expect too much, you can't be let down, as the saying goes. Nevertheless... onward. I drive in rush hour traffic for an hour every morning to get here to the University hospital to do my research. I don't get road rage. This is thanks to one thing in summer and two in winter. The one thing in summer (and one of th two things in winter) is the car radio. It's not a larney "system" - no Sony X-plod, no MP3 capability, no quadrophonic 400 watt amp in the boot powering a 13" subwoofer and four 6x9 3-way polypropylene cones with horn tweeters, no CD shuttle or frontloader. It's just an old Pioneer AM/FM/autoreverse cassette thing with a detachable face and two speakers in the dash, both of which need replacing, because they buzz a bit as a result of me cranking the volume to 23 too often in my vicarious youth. That old Pioneer has saved so many lives because I blast mix tapes through it all day long so I get to listen to stuff which I have chosen (and not the utterly shit SA radio stations, which are either dull or just plain irritating) and which stabilises my mood on the highway, in rush hour, and so I don't get too fazed by all the utter fucknuts out there who drive like retarded mutants on crack and who all ideally need to be kicked in the poes (see yesterday's entry, Die Moer in, for an explanation. Hint hint). The second thing in winter is the sunrise, which I get 45 minutes of view of in the rearview and wing mirrors and fifteen minutes or so above and in front of me as the clouds (big, fuck-off storm clouds and thunderheads or light wispy Cirrus miracles) change from black to grey to pink to orange to silver. And then some. I'm a complete naff sucker for a skyscape. It makes me want to laugh and cry and sing and do insp/i(r)rational things (like park on the side of a mountain at 5am in August in the middle of winter to take pictures of Mars and clouds at sunrise). Summer is different, because the sun rises at 6am and the clouds have metamorphosed long before I hit the road, but in winter it's so cool. I can drive for miles with good music and pretty clouds. The bay is still a mirror. No ripples anywhere. I'm beginning to get worried. It's unnatural. Of course, the surfers must be tearing their hair out. heh. They piss me off sometimes. laters