Concern

The set of “women I find remotely attractive” is, in fact, a proper subset of the set of “women who are in relationships.”

Lazyweb edit: is there a word that means “a person who asks questions that they already know the answer to?”

Car ownership continues. The continuing saga:

The miles-per-gallon meter is fun. I always have it selected in the display, and it (I think) calculates the miles per gallon you are getting for the current trip. It’s fun to explore different gears and speeds, trying to get that number as high as I can. My personal best (which has me in sixth (!) gear at around 2500 RPM at 65-70 MPH, and fifth or fourth at 55-60 going up the hill, and in fifth and pretty much coasting down the hill) is 35 MPG.

Cars are OMG dirty! I cleaned the wheels off today, which already had a light coat of fine, greasy black dirt. I really want to take care of this car, so I’m going to try to keep a tight regimen of detailing. I’m not sure how often I should get the car washed and waxed, though. The Intarweb tells many a story, from every two weeks, to monthly, to 1-2 week washings and bi-yearly waxings. What, dear lazyweb, is a good washing scheme? Remember that I’ll need to go to a professional to get it done, so high cost and frequency are both negatives.

I ordered some heavy-duty rubber floor mats, which arrived yesterday. They say “Jetta” on the driver and front passenger ones. If they said “GLI” instead, that would kind of rock, but they don’t seem to be available. Volkswagen floor mats are neat because there are clips on the floor, near where the seats meet the carpet, that hold the mats in place. Anyone who has had a car that had floor mats of any kind knows, this is brilliant.

I bought a new car. It’s a 2006 Volkswagen Jetta GLI, 6 speed manual. It’s really quite nice, and I am quite happy.

My recent run-in with the highway patrol, and the nastygram email I just received from my ISP because _ ___ _____________ _____, has really irked me.

We are, to a large degree, being watched. If you understand how your credit score works, you can understand this. This sounds like hyperbole, but big brother isn’t something to fear the coming of, it’s something we fear as we live with it. Police monitor you while you drive; corporations monitor you while you surf the web, while you walk through stores and buildings, while you watch T.V., when you make phone calls.

The thing is, big brother doesn’t exist because of power, or because of the self-righteousness of those in power. It’s all economics. I’m sure traffic laws exist primarily to raise funds and to prevent expense in cleaning up auto accidents. All copyright law and the current bruhaha over it is about keeping corporate profits up.

So what you end up doing, is living in fear. Because the government wants to engineer your behavior, and because corporations want your money, you have to fear transgressing silly laws instead of living (and we can argue over whether or not speed limits serve the greater good; with my nut-libertarian hat on, I might argue that the system will naturally take care of itself, and artificial limits don’t do anyone any good). And it’s a terrible thing to have to live in fear, whether it’s watching your speedometer, or watching what you write because — god forbid — you publish something similar to or derived from someone else’s work.

(Am I annoying you yet with the ________ bits? I do apologize, but no, I’m not going to stop. Sometimes you want to write something to get it out, but don’t want it public. That’s the deal; take it or leave it.)

I’ve gone over the line twice this past week; or rather, I was over the line this past week, and got caught at it. I:

1. Got a speeding ticket.
2. Got pukey drunk.

(not at the same time)

I don’t suppose I really mind that either happened. I still think that I’ll still be doing some serious behavior modification, though, and I think to a degree I was going beyond safe bounds because I __ _____ _ ______. Anyway, payment was required for both, and I can see that I don’t want to keep paying that toll, even if I have the means.