Total Eclipse of the Moon

The roads are slidey tonight. I just got back from the gym, but I found myself holding my breath as I went around most corners on the drives there and back. But the MINI came through. I got my hair cut tonight and drove home through the snow just as the last bit of daylight was vanishing. I took back roads to the highway, looking out over the fields and houses blanketed under, all peaceful and quiet, and I remembered why I do (mostly) like snow. I just don't like the chores related to snow: the driving and parking and scraping and shoveling.

Also weather-related; the moon is eclipsing as we speak; all the snow clouds have moved on, so you can see it getting eaten up by the black shadow (dum-dum-DUM).

Now I'm snug and warm and tired in my bed, but I need to watch at least one episode of The Wire. I borrowed Season I from a guy at work, and it's pretty addicting. I have a little crush on McNulty, and I want D'Angelo to GET OUT now, and I'm afraid for Bubbles and that undercover guy, and I want to know if that one cop really IS dirty. I'm only about to start Episode 4. Of Season I. So I have a long way to go.

Bits and Pieces

Mel Comes Through (again)

Today one of my co-workers came into the area where I sit with two of my homegirls and asked if any of us could think of a really cheesy friendship song. And of course I had one ready immediately. The homegirls laughed at me, because I was all over it. It was like I’d just been waiting for someone to ask that question. I'm always waiting for stuff like that.

The song? Friends are Friends Forever, of course. Cheesiest song EVAH. You can see Michael W. Smith singing it here. And yet, even though I laugh at its cheesiness, it still reminds me of 8^th grade graduations and last nights at camp and people moving away while I was in middle school. Those first few notes take me back there, and there's a poignant element that even the cheese can't completely erase.

"Patronizing Men" Episode #256
I despise being patronized more than anything in life. Tonight at the gym I was on the elliptical, doing my thing, and this big guy (muscled, I mean) carrying around his gallon of water and energy drink, climbed on the one right next to me. There were others, not next to me, that were available, but that didn’t matter to him. I finished my workout—3 miles, 40 minutes, 500 calories (standard fare for me)--and climbed off. He gestured at me to remove my headphones since he was going to say something.

“Were you seeing your heart rate on here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. I never really care about that.

“Well, that was actually my heart rate you were seeing, so you if you’re counting your calories you probably want to deduct about 20%.”

I just looked at him. Why would HIS heart rate be showing up on MY elliptical? Unless there was some kind of censor?

He noticed my confusion. “Were you watching your calories?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they were based on my heart rate.”

By this point I was just annoyed. “Yes, but they were about right for me.”

“Did you see your heart rate on there?”

“Yes, but I never pay attention to that. My calories were about the same as they always are.”

“Are you sure?” This killed me. Am I sure? Are you kidding me? I’ve been doing this for over a year. It’s always the same—I know what I’m doing. Why does this guy think he has to advise me? Is this some kind of ill-advised pickup line? Cause the one way to completely turn me off forever is to be a patronizing douche.

“Yep.” I gave him a fake smile and went to the locker room.

Weather Elements
It’s snowing and sleeting and generally being difficult weather-wise. The MINI is actually okay in the snow, I’ve decided, because even if the back end slides around, well, there isn’t really a back end. It’s just like a big block, and that makes it harder to lose control. So I should be good. I managed to get around town today just fine.

Monday Madness

Several months ago I created an anonymous email address on Yahoo. I set it up so I could secretly investigate someone at work who I suspected was a crazy liar. I was surprised I got the email addresss I'd requested, because it was fairly simple, with no numbers. Just two letters, a last name, and the Yahoo domain. And who ever gets an account that simple in this day and age?

But I often get random emails from real people in that account. I got some forwards from an old guy who thought I was some friend. I got some college emails meant for a kid named Ryan awhile ago. I hadn't checked for months, but today when I logged in I had a bunch of emails from an online dating site. Not for me, for a woman from out west, a divorcee with two kids who'd created a profile. Her account info and password were also there in my inbox, as were various messages from men responding to her profile. I decided to see if I could actually log-in (I had to see). And it worked. I have complete back office access to this woman's account. I might be able to get her credit card number. And I could certainly wreak havoc with her love life.

I won't do any of that of course. But good grief, this does not seem safe at all.

Speaking of unsafe, I almost got into an accident on the way home from work today. I was on my way back to the highway when a pickup truck pulled right out in front of me. He was pulling through a long line of cars to turn left, so I assume his view was restricted, but still! I had to slam on my brakes, as hard as I could, all the while thinking "this is not going to be good." It's funny how much time your brain has to think in just a few seconds.

Anyway, it turned out that the front right side of my car just scraped against his back tire and left a lot of black rubber marks which I think will rub off. But the guy didn't pull over or stop to see if my car was okay or anything. I got his license number and ended up following him up onto 283, just because we were going the same direction. And I noticed he was an old guy, which made me less mad. But I'm still a little pissed.

So now I have an alias email address, an old guy's license plate number, and unlimited access to some woman's online dating account. Just watch out.

December Dabbling

I'm flipping back and forth between a really stupid show on NBC (I think it's Life, and it's really annoying me) and the Patriots-Ravens game, which is also really annoying me. If the Patriots even lose to the Ravens . . .

So today I almost killed my boss by turning left into an intersection when the LIGHT WAS RED. What is my problem? I mean, she was talking and I was listening, so maybe that says something about my listening skills. On the other hand, it says nothing about my multi-tasking skills. Because clearly I can't listen and drive at the same time. Sometimes my brain goes on hiatus when I'm driving, and I completely miss things like red lights. Fortunately that's rare. Today it just happened to take place when my boss was sitting in the passenger seat. Thank God nothing happened. This takes place only a few weeks after I set off the smoke alarm in the company kitchen, promptly summoning the fire department. Flighty is about the last word you'd use to describe me, though, so I think these are just random incidents. Unless I'm developing frontal lobe dementia. In which case I'm actually regressing.

Last week I was worried because I thought I was gaining weight. This week, I'm back to normal. How do you gain three pounds one week and lose them the next? Ridiculous.

I have a small crush on a guy at work, but not for any good reason. It's not even a crush. He's an insensitive frat-boy type, very funny, somewhat shallow, occasionally obnoxious. And yet, I feel like if I could get him to acknowledge me in THAT way, well, I will have won something. Like it would be some kind of triumph. So this "crush" is nothing but combative, and I mostly laugh at myself. Sheesh.

Last weekend there was supposed to be inches of snow and freezing rain--a mild apocalypse, crazy treacherous roads. Guess what happened? Absolutely nothing. Today's forecast: 50 mph winds and resulting horrors. Again, nothing too extreme took place. A few flurries. Local weather forecasters should be banned from TV. They do nothing except create mass hysteria--and giant letdowns when nothing happens.

The Man is Watching

So, I was just reading this other blog when I noticed a banner ad above the text offering low car insurance prices, in the town I'm in RIGHT NOW. And that's okay. I mean, I understand that ads can read my IP address and fill in the appropriate city. But then, right there in the ad, there WAS A PICTURE OF A MINI!

Now, I don't know if the MINI was chosen because it was a cool car, or if someone is targeting me . . . the idea with internet marketing (and probably all marketing) is that someday soon, we'll all only see ads that are exactly targeted to us, based on browsing history and searches and IP addresses. And in theory, that is kind of okay with me. I mean, privacy is pretty much gone when you get on the internet; I have no illusions.

But to actually see a targeted ad (if that's what it was) . . . well, my first reaction was HOW DO THEY KNOW THAT? Quite frankly, it freaked me out a little. I don't want everyone to know who I am, where I work, and what I drive. Years of stories about the End Times and the Mark of the Beast probably have something to do with my paranoia. But really, this can't be GOOD, can it?

A History of my Life as Told with Cars

I sold my old car yesterday, or at least I almost. I still have the title, plus several thousand in cash. They have the car with expired plates. So, good deal for me. We will be meeting to do the title transfer after I return from Thanksgiving.

So, end of another car era. My car-owning eras coincide roughly with parts of my life. My first car was an '87 Dodge Shadow, blue, which was really a piece of crap. It got me around, I guess, and no big deal if I ran it into something (which I did on a few occasions; usually parked cars). I did leave me sitting alone on the interstate, no cell phone (this was in the late 90s); fortunately I was within easy walking distance of an exit. At 87,000 miles it was about finished, and during Christmas Breaks in college I would drive it with fear and trembling--one time the brakes cut out, another time we lost all real power on the way home from the beach, so we had to roll through all stop signs and pray we didn't hit any lights red, because the car wouldn't take off from a dead stop. Every year was a question: what will happen to the Shadow this Christmas?

My college car was a '90 Ford Bronco in silver. A big 4WD beast of a thing for those snowy western NY winters. I drove my friends around; we put seven girls in it for a cold ride to New England (cold for those in the way-back, at least). I took it grocery shopping, and on long drives to church. We even drove it to Florida for Spring Break. I liked it okay, and I really liked having a car, but small things were always going wrong--windows stuck down, tires going flat and not being able to find replacements in Podunk, NY--little glitches that made things difficult.

After college, when I moved here and didn't need the Bronco anymore, my dad sold it for me and I got the old '95 Honda. This became essentially the car of my 20s, and I really loved how reliable it was. The Honda took me all over--Lancaster, up to New England, to Ontario, down to North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland. It's been up to Pittsburgh, to Baltimore, to Philly. It's taken me to thousands of work days at three different jobs, to many weddings, to a few funerals. I've sat in it nervously before dates and job interviews; I've had hundreds of conversations with myself, been angry, and wept, too.

And now it's gone, and I'm 29, with a new car that will take me well into my 30s. We'll just have to see what happens.

Motoring!

So, you know how last week I was all depressed about driving the MINI?

This week I'm totally pumped! I made it to work today with nary a stall nor a squeal, even with stopping at red lights and pulling out slowly in front of someone who was gracious enough to let me out into a long line of traffic (but then honked at me when I didn't move fast enough).

I'm still slow at starting, and last night I had a very embarrassing squeal/stall session on a minor hill, but things are progressing nicely.

Next, I'm determined to master downshifting.

And now I will stop talking about driving the MINI.

Don't stop now

Today I drove the MINI to work for the first time.

I remember when I first started driving--how I would avoid situations I didn't want to deal with, things like merging into traffic or changing lanes. And now it's like I'm 16 again. I find myself plotting my routes, taking the long way to work so I don't have to pull out in front of anyone or deal with stoplights. Stop signs have lost their meanings--especially 4-Way stops. If there's no one there, I just keep going, and I find myself cursing at anyone who tries to come to a complete stop for any reason--just go, losers!

I can't stop, because if I lose forward momentum I have to START again, and that is the problem. I either stall or squeal my tires like an ass. I have tried not to squeal, but I can't manage it, and it irritates me more than anyone. Just writing this is making me cranky.

Today I came home a particular way so I could hit most lights green, avoid traffic, park at a grocery story that I knew had pull-through spaces (so I don't have to reverse) and I made it home safely. I witnessed an accident (someone completely ran a redlight and hit someone else, spinning around in the intersection). For awhile, while our light was green, everyone just sat and looked at them. I jerked myself into first gear and went around the wreck, Squealing my tires and making everyone stare. I'm sure people were thinking "dear god, just stop showing off. People just had a serious collision."

But I wasn't showing off. I was just trying to get some forward motion while the getting was good. Now I should go to the gym, but if I go out to my car I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to put it in reverse, which when you're starting out with a big squealing jump, is pretty scary. I'm thinking about skipping the gym.

And I hate that. I hate being limited in my options because I'm scared or unable to do something. Just do it, and all that.

Does anyone know where there is a big, flat, empty space?

Proof that it exists . . .

I was misinformed.

After my first two stickshift driving lessons, I was pretty sure I'd have the whole thing mastered in a few short days. Not hard at all, right?

Wrong.

Driving stick is HARD. And it SUCKS. And I keep stalling, or jerking, or squealing my tires and leaving black marks on the pavement. Who's bright idea was it to get a car with a standard transmission, anyway?

I don't think I'll ever learn to drive it properly.

But, on the plus side, the MINI is here! Pictures below to prove it--since no one has actually seen it yet. Because I can't drive it.


Doesn't it look AWESOME?