Translation: I passed my test, suckahs!!
Archive for » September, 2010 «
30
Sep 2010
29
Sep 2010
You might have noticed that recently I have been writing a lot more than usual. Part of this is the fact that my clearances are over; the last 6 months have incited a lot of nail-biting and worry that I would inadvertently say something dead stupid that would somehow cause my security clearance to crash and burn. It’s enough that I have six years of posts on this blog to trip me up — didn’t seem like I needed to add to the repertoire of my stupidity.
So, having passed that particular milestone, I suddenly find nearly a year’s worth of writer’s block breaking loose and I have ideas for blog posts in the shower, walking around my house, picking my nose at stop signs…wherever! I am overflowing with ideas!
So on my way to class this afternoon I looked in front of me (useful when driving) and saw this absolutely monstrous van:
Can you see how huge this thing is? Look at the normal-sized car next to it. And no, this was not a touring van or anything else — it was, in all ways other than stupendous height, normal. It was just really freaking tall.
And so I snapped a photo, and noted it was a Mercedes.
Big deal, you say.
Yes. But, this is a long-standing joke between Marti and I.
After Ben was born, my parents came to visit us and see their new grandson. Since we were in DC, we did a lot of tourist-y stuff and walked all over the mall, looking at more memorials than I can really remember (Einstein still remains my favorite). And then there was the traffic.
Let me explain to you about my father and traffic. If my father was Superman, traffic would be his kryptonite. You know THAT guy? The one who you give the finger to and he nearly runs you down to explain to your now terrified self that giving the finger is extremely rude and was uncalled for in that situation and that you are clearly an inferior driver that doesn’t understand the nuances of traffic law and that you should never do that again?
He’s THAT guy. When Falling Down came out, my dad (along with many others, of course) was incredibly sympathetic toward the main character, who freaked out in traffic before going on a rampage through L.A.
So it’s DC. And there is traffic up the yin yang. And I had forgotten (and Marti had never experienced) how my parents are in traffic.
Here is a sample of the dialogue:
“Look at that red Ford up there! He totally cut that guy off!”
“Hmmm, there’s a Buick. Nice car, those Buicks.”
“Can you believe that Beemer didn’t even signal?”
“Geez, look at that guy!”
“Can you believe this traffic?”
“There’s one of those new Kias. Ever drove one of those, Marti?”
“Oh, heavens, that truck up there crossed three lanes!”
And so on. And so on. And so on.
You know how you forget about certain idiosyncrasies people have when you are far away from them, only to be rudely awakened by their nose picking/neck twitching/fingernail buffing mania when you meet them again?
Well, my parents obsess about the makes and models of cars, and usually call out the model of every car they pass (“Now, that’s a nice-looking Chrysler, but I think the 1998 model was better, the tail-light shape was nicer…”) I had totally forgotten about this, but for days after they left Marti would twitch every time I read the name of a sign out-loud or called out the model of a car (did I mention that I join them, unconsciously, when they do this?). So of course I kept doing it.
So back to this massive van. I see this van, and immediately I notice its make: Mercedes. And I think:
Look at that van!
/Twitch twitch
It’s a Mercedes!
/Twitch twitch
Looks like a late model!
/Twitch twitch
Ever seen one so tall?
/Twitch twitch
And since Marti wasn’t there to do the twitching, I took a picture.
Wouldn’t want to disappoint him, after all.
Category: Links
Tags: cars, idiosyncrasies, idiosyncrasy, marriage, Mercedes, parents, pictures, van, Worthless Musings One Comment
28
Sep 2010
On May 5th, 2010, suspect could be seen driving white-knuckled toward a school zone:
Suspect, bleary-eyed, driving children to school, suddenly slammed on brakes, realizing “Oh crap, school zone…!” Too late. Behold, the evil ticket van that hath taken subject’s unsuspecting photo:
Suspect hopes against hope that she slowed down in time, but sure enough, a month later she gets this letter in mail:
Subject moaned and groaned and then…she missed her court date. Luckily, her research into driving school meant the court granted a diversion for traffic school. Due date: October 4th.
Fast forward to today. Subject went to sign up for said diversion, only to find that the deadline? Well, it’s SEVEN DAYS BEFORE the deadline. What??? Doesn’t that mean the deadline is ACTUALLY September 27th? Why, yes, yes it does. So if subject has not COMPLETED a diversion course SEVEN DAYS before the “deadline” (ha ha ha), then subject must return to court (cannot be done over the phone) to request a continuance. Court time? 8-12 a.m. Monday morning.
Subject sighed, and reached for credit card, and paid for evil photo radar ticket, because subject knows: the ‘house’ always wins.
28
Sep 2010
So, after a really stressful week last week, wherein I did an entire weeks’ worth of classes and homework in a single morning before going to take a quiz (studying for my Japanese test last week REALLY threw off my schedule) I ended up — yep. Sick. Exhausted. Unable to function.
Sigh.
I HATE, absolutely HATE being sick. It makes me angry! And then I sleep for 20 hours and STILL feel tired! Arrgghhhh!
Anyway, so I slept through most of Friday and Saturday, and Sunday I woke up at 7 a.m. feeling groggy but okay. So I decided — a walk! I will take a walk! Er, maybe a run! Because my foot, which I twisted a few weeks ago running on a trail, is finally better, and also I feel really fat so running should make me feel better, right?
I explain to the kids and the dogs that mommy is going BY HERSELF because she wants TO RUN. And then I stand, undecided, by the back gate, eyeing a walking stick I haven’t used in ages. Finally I decide to grab the walking stick (I can always set it down, run, and then come pick it back up later).
So I walk, and I walk. It’s hot. At 8:15 a.m. it’s 80 degrees here and climbing fast; it’s a typical cloudless Tucson day with far too much sunshine for my taste. I walk through the desert, trying to speed-walk a little up the hills, checking my pulse. (Did it occur to me that starting exercise after 2 days in bed was a bad idea? Nahhh, of course not!). I got my heartrate up and decided to take a trail I hadn’t gone on before. It was very pretty — behold:
However. It was hot. And dry. And after walking for a while on this “new” trail I hadn’t tried, I saw that I was near this church:
And I thought, hmmm. Rainwater barrels on the side? That’s pretty cool. So I decided to go check it out, and made my way down a fairly steep slope to the highway. Then I crossed the highway, and walked to the church, thinking, I’ll just get a drink of water and see when the services are. After all, it’s 8:45 and EVERYONE knows Catholics have services at 8 a.m., so it can’t possibly be time for a service. Except, of course, that this particular church had a 9 a.m. service. Since people were streaming into the doors, I streamed with them, and sat in the back, surreptitiously stashing my walking stick by the door. Of course, I was in hiking shorts, and wearing prescription sunglasses, so I looked a bit strange, but mostly nobody bothered me (aka, I didn’t get thrown out — a plus!). Nine a.m. rolls around and suddenly I realize — I’m a 45-minute walk from home, have no water, and it’s already 85 degrees. I can’t stay for an hour and a half for this service! So, I quietly get up, find the priest standing right by my walking stick (um, excuse me sir, I mean father, I just need that big stick there…) and leave. Nobody tries to restrain me (this has actually happened before — BAPTISTS!) and I think I will get a drink of water before I go.
So I start walking around the church.
And around it.
And, wow, this church is much bigger than it looks. Is that a picnic area?
And finally — a bathroom! Water! Except it’s locked.
So I go to the picnic area and drink out of a sink there, and then promptly walk into a wash that I can’t get out of.
Backtrack.
Cross highway.
Wow, this was a lot less steep coming down…
Walking. Walking. Walking. It’s now 90+ degrees, sun is beating down, and home seems so very, very far away.
I finally arrive back home around 10:30 a.m., exhausted and footsore. I stretch a little, drink a ton a water, and then…I totally have to lay down.
I feel AWFUL.
Why didn’t it occur to me to take it easy my first day up? Huh? Why do I do this to myself?
I wake up 6 HOURS LATER with a sunburn and a bad taste in my mouth. And then I proceed to sleep through the night, and then through most of today, until late this afternoon when I woke up feeling…okay. And I thought, hmmm, I feel pretty okay, maybe I should take a walk.
EXCEPT I DIDN’T. Geez, people. I do learn…sometimes.
P.S. Except, of course, that I slept too much and am still up at 2 a.m. writing this. But I didn’t stay up until 2 a.m. last time! Really! I’ll be fine!
