*#$@!ing Evolution

 After closing out Alison's Lafayette apartment, we were in the car. Ali was driving. And cursing. Because when Ali drives, motorists who cut her off, drive too slow or, essentially, breathe in her direction tend to piss her off.

It's like driving with Lynda Ruble: barely controlled road rage for sometimes inconsequential infractions by drivers, who contrary to what Lyn or Ali may think, are not out to get them.

It's taken me awhile, but when I'm in a car with Ali, I tend to ignore most of her mutterings and shouts. Unless they're directed at me, which can sometimes happen. In this week's incident, I was letting her rage roll right off me but I did start musing about why it is that a certain Christian holy man's name is a common curse word but other holy men - say, Buddha or the Pope, L. Ron Hubbard - aren't taken in vain on the regular.

It's my fault that Ali sometimes calls on J. Christ in moments of high emotion. I'm not proud of it. When she was 2-ish, though, she was running in the house, and I had just polished the floor. She was in shorts and socks, her hair up in two pony tails. She had just crossed the fireplace and started to turn the corner when her feet went out from under her and she landed on her (I think) Pampers-cushioned bottom. "Jesus Christ!" flew out of her mouth when she landed.

She's still hates it when I polish the floors.

Anyway, I was wondering out loud why Christ was a common curse word when his peers hadn't gotten that dual role. "I mean, it's like, you wouldn't say, 'John Smith!" if you were angry, or "Bob Daviess!' " I said.

She nodded along, going with the my musings. "I can't see people just shouting out "Cheryl Reed!'" I continued. That's where she stopped me.

"Dad says that all the time," she pointed out.

Right

So stage one of the Big Move has occurred. We commemorated her Purdue University era with sandwiches, Bubble Tea for her and a Wendy's Frosty for me as we left town. She pointed out her favorite bars, restaurants and buildings she'd spent time in as we drove around and reminisced a little bit about her different apartments or dorm rooms and stand-out moments.

We started to talk about how lucky she was to have landed in Dr. Laskin's lab where she'd been able to really dive into research, was rewarded with her own projects and was treated like a grad student even though she was an undergrad. Her work there directly led to the primo spot waiting for her in Orlando. We corrected ourselves, though. Because while she was fortunate to have gotten the spot in his lab her freshman year, she worked hard there, made the most of her opportunities and earned his regard for her.

So, after four years, she's ready to leave Purdue. She's both excited and trepidatious about the University of Central Florida and is hopeful that she'll take all the lessons learned - both actual research lab stuff and interpersonal relationship stuff - and use it well with whatever happens next. 

I was giving Jeff the scoop about our time shuttering the Lafayette years and he said, "Well, as we used to say, 'it's a new evolvage.'" 

When Ali and Alex Ogden were younger, they were deeply into Pokemon. In one iteration of the game, characters would morph from a chubby, cute little guy into bigger and meaner powers. We never did understand that game, but the two of them spent hours on it. Deeply serious, they would explain the evolutions of their favorite characters to us, but they called them "evolvages." We thought it was hilarious at the time and still do.

It's a perfect word for her current state, which is probably her sixth evolvage. I mean, she's is a whole person now. A true adult who can do just about anything but hire a rental car. Thus far, the evolution of Alison Renee Reed has been a wild ride. Here's hoping I still get to ride shotgun on it every once in a while.