Burying The Hatchet

It’s inevitable that when people live together, work together, do stuff…again together, there’ll be occasions when there is acrimony.

Acrimony can get bumped up into enmity or also a severe case of I-don’t-recognize-your-existence yada yada yada. But in the whole scenario, the one thing that no one quite figures out how to do is burying the hatchet.

The question now comes- where the heck is it to be buried? In the head of the person you’ve had the falling out with or just in some neutral ground where it doesn’t bother anyone anymore?

Well till the hatchet is good and ready to be buried, we are ill-fated to carry it around like those unimaginative serial killers, dripping with blood and guts aka our angst and ill-will.

The hatchet bumps into things, nicking stuff, causing bleeds which are some extremely out there metaphors for saying it causes us harm in turn and growing heavier by degree since the ill-will hasn’t been washed away.

Laughter is an exceptional antidote for the hatchet. Either at yourself or at the object(s) of your derision. Laughter caused by the prolonging of a situation where even the absence of the provocative stimulus causing bile to surge up in your gut without any occasion for letting it out. Essentially at the futility of things.

Once the laughter bubbles over, a spot magically appears bearing the words, “bury hatchet here”. And thus it ends.

Till something or someone causes you to go medieval on their ass and again swing the hatchet.

Mens Vs. Women: The Eternal Conundrum

OK people, be prepared for an out and out rant today. There’s a global phenomenon that men laugh and also mutter oaths about- The Woman Driver. The way this paragon of road (un)worthiness is portrayed you’d think she was a combination of a sloth or a slug who was inching forward in traffic while other people were aging in the process, or she was a hurricane on wheels; blowing away everyone in her path and piling up a huge body count in the process.

Now the question demands to be asked- Why am I ranting this fine, breezy morning instead of celebrating my rare and soon-to-be finished hours of me-time? Well I met the other half of the paragon viz The Male Driver.

While dropping MLM to school this morning I came across some beautiful examples of flagrant disregard for traffic rules, human and animal life to boot! And it’s not merely the speed demons on bikes or the vans bearing goods that indulged in such displays…it was nothing less than a Beemer…so you see, we have classy people getting into the act as well!

I have sadly come across too many people who sneer at women drivers, my husband unfortunately falls into these ranks despite him knowing better and ideally fearing for his life. But I fail to understand why a man’s gender isn’t singled out when he makes driving booboos. Do we women possess some kind of mutated driving chromosomes which make us “inept” or unsavvy drivers?

If we’re pointing fingers lets do it collectively at a group of incompetent or rash drivers overall. Why drag the gender bit into it? Because let’s face it, there are WAY many more males driving globally and getting into 7-car pile-ups or even ending up on car chases with cops than females from the look of it. So either those people are all cross-dressing men or maybe men too come into their fair share of driving  no-nos.

As for the argument of men being from Mars and women from Venus- just remember that in the end we’re all aliens under the same sun!

Here endeth the lesson.

image courtesy-http://forums.heroesofnewerth.com/
image courtesy-http://forums.heroesofnewerth.com/