i think maybe i’ll go take a class sometime soon. maybe that’ll be a birthday present for myself.

i’ve been meaning to figure out how to handle a handgun for some time now. (like i was telling keane at work today, it just seems like a good skill to have, in the “just in case” files. not that i expect to have my life turn into a jerry bruckheimer movie any time soon, but, you know… and more than one person freaked out after i told them about going on my road trip alone in august, not carrying a firearm. tell you the truth, i never thought twice about not carrying a gun. my aunt always carries one on her road trips, but it just never even occurred to me. and, since i don’t intend to buy a handgun — chicago resident and all — it’s not like i would be taking one on my next road trip, but, i just think it might be neat to learn how to use a handgun. hopefully it will never be a skill more useful than winning stupid carnival prizes.) it seems like it might be worthwhile as a stress-relief exercise, if nothing else.

obligatory disclaimer: no, armchair conspiracy theorists, i’m not plotting to learn how to shoot so i can take out everyone at work. i realize that posting these two articles close together looks creepy, but, sheesh. nor am i planning suicide or anything like that. first of all, suicide by gun violates two of sabrina’s three rules of suicide:

  1. Don’t fuck up anyone’s commute.
  2. Don’t leave a mess for the EMTs.
  3. Don’t fuck up sabrina’s shit.

second of all, there’s an unspoken fourth rule of suicide which is “don’t fuck it up,” and although it’s easy to get it right with suicide by gun, people fuck it up all the time anyways. and finally, i am not particularly interested in dying yet, thank you very much. i just want to learn how to shoot a gun. sheesh.