Some mothers tell their kids to look both ways before crossing the street. My mother's mantra was, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."
I took that to heart, and like to think of myself as nice. Except when other people aren't nice, which is increasingly true today, and I can't help but point that out to them. Maybe that makes me bitchy-nice (sorry, Mom), but I feel like calling someone out on their rudeness can make a dent.
About me: shockingly, I live in the suburbs and drive a minivan covered with obnoxious stickers from my kids' sports and schools. Professionally, I'm a writer, for newspapers, trade magazines and other publications who will assign me stories on anything from meat handling regulations (stringent!) to how physicians can best spot deep vein thrombosis (huh?).
When I'm not writing, I am a blur in my minivan, driving my kids around, and scolding drivers who cut me off or don't pull over for an ambulance.