That girl is me.

but like.... the 12 years ago me.

I was driving home the other day and found myself sitting at a stop light amongst 748392 skabillion cars during this seasonal month. Now, I'm not uncool by any means. But I'm not nearly as cool as I used to be, I would say. I mean, my SUV is missing two tire caps right now and it's very dirty so I'm lookin' a wee bit ghetto, perhaps. And when I play really loud music, it's quite often something like Tori Amos or The Beatles or Leonard Cohen (can one play Cohen loudly... why, yes.. yes they can), not Nine Inch Nails or Rage Against the Machine. Though... I'm known to blast music like that from time to time and the adrenaline that consumes me makes me drive a little faster and I'm a little more of a jerk than usual, so I don't do it a lot. Especially when my ratbags are in the car.

Anyway, I found myself zoning off and my eyes caught sight of a jeep. A white jeep with big tires. There were two girls, the one driving was talking on her cell phone while her passenger was fiddling with her hair and applying lip gloss. And suddenly... I transported myself back to sometime in 1995.

"And I'm heeerrrre to remind you of the mess you left when you went away -- It's not faaaaair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me - - - - you, you, you ....... oughta know"

Aaryn and I shouted this song at the top of our lungs as we cruised through Yuma, Arizona on our way to San Diego. As we passed a semi truck, she dumped a gallon of water all over herself and onto me just to tease the driver. We chain smoked and ate ginormo (which wasn't a word back then) pickles and beef jerkey (our road trip staples). Ah, man. What fun, what fun. My jeep was awesome. Her name was "Jeepie". I know, pretty lame, but she needed no name to prove her fabulousness. White, soft top, doors removed, chromed out bumper and fender, roll bars, big fat tires. Everyone wanted to drive my jeepie. Only a select few got to. That jeepie saw me through some pretty great times, including some fantastic spy missions down to Rio Rico and around Tucson in addition to numerous trips to the Salt River and Phoenix in the cold (no top = a windy, cold ride in the cooler months). She was a huge player in my life in 1995 and 1996 and I think of that time fondly. And I think about how cool I was.

And there I sat in traffic. No Aaryn next to me. No pickles. No jerkey. No spy mission going down. And on that day, I happened to be listening to Christian talk radio.. which is my new thing - because I'm fascinated and curious about the die-hard, bible thumping Christian way. Today wasn't necessarily an "Asherbelle is exceptionally cool" day, but I'm still pretty awesome, I think.

I watched these girls for the next few minutes. Not like a stalker. Well, sort of like a stalker, but I didn't like follow them home or anything! I gazed upon them with a secret smile. And I thought "I was you 12 years ago. And bitches... in 12 years you will be me. And you had better hope to be half as fabulous because even on my un-cool days, I'm mutha fucking cool."

I turned off my talk radio, rolled the window down, and blasted "Revolution" by the Beatles. And then I tailgated a Lincon Town Car, cut off a Civic, and didn't use my turn signal.