wtf?

Box of Doom

I'm watching arrested development as I unpack and it may be one of the best ideas I've ever had. The episode that's playing while I tackle the kitchen is the one in which Lucille crashed the car, but put Michael in the driver's seat to make it look like it was his fault. And they keep mentioning that a bump in the back of the head causes short-term memory loss.

This reminds me (but vaguely and fuzzily) about a tidbit from that car accident I was in several years ago. I remember trying to deduce what caused my head injury. And since I was wading through some pretty severe short term memory loss of my own, this was like a fun game of Clue.

The evidence I had were my busted sunglasses, bent on one side (but not the side the window was on), the book en espanol I was reading on the journey, cover now torn, and the lunchbox. Ah, the lunchbox. One of those harmless 80's plastic boxes that came with matching thermos. That lunchbox was residing on the space over the shoulders of the backseat. And since my seatmate got the force of the rear windshield in her back upon impact, I'm assuming that I got the force of the 'box nailed into the back of my noggin. The lunchbox contained our first aid kit. Between that and how the seatbelt-wearing may have screwed my back up for life, I'm beginning to lose my trust in safety.


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I promise I'm not a threat

This week I drove about 2,500 miles around the country with my bestie without incident (well...one very very minor incident). No speeding tickets, no crashes, no murdered animals (though an idiot possum nearly lost his life to our front left tire), no gas station abductions in Mississippi. Then David headed on his way back to New York and I on my 500 mile solo journey from oklahoma back to Austin. And on my first full day with my brand new car, I got pulled over by a texas state trooper.

Now before you have a heart attack, I wasn't speeding. However, in my twelve years of driving, I have never been pulled over. Not in Hawaii, not when I was manhandling fifteen passenger vans in New York...never. So I was cursing myself out even though I knew that I wasn't speeding. Well, as it turns out, I better brush up on my Texas state driving handbook before getting a Texas license because I was pulled over for a rule I didn't know about -- not moving to the left lane when passing a cop who has pulled over somebody else. I even ALMOST did this. I considered moving to the left as I laughed at the guy who was probably pulled over for speeding, but I was in an area littered with signs saying the left lane was for passing only and didn't want the patrolman to get me for being in the wrong lane. Dummy.

The patrolman was very nice, he explained why he pulled me over and I very innocently told him I had just moved here and was unfamiliar with that particular law. He asked where I moved from and I told him New York. "New York? Not Oklahoma?" he says. My plates that I had just gotten earlier in the day were Oklahoma plates. "Well, my dad lives in oklahoma, and he got me this car." He asked where I was headed and I told him austin. He asked if I was a student and I said no. He then asked for my insurance card and license. This is when I hand over my Hawaii driver's license, to which he exclaims "Hawaii?!". Great, I have now given this guy four different places where I am supposedly from. I'm surprised he didn't cuff me right there for being shifty. We make more conversation about how my life journey has taken me these places and then he tells me he's going to let me off with a warning. Luv him.

So, for my first cop experience, I think it was as painless as it could have been. However, it was pretty much the least bad ass thing I could've been pulled over for, and may ruin my street cred. Also, I really think the only reason he was able to catch up with me was because the car my dad bought me is fire engine red which just screams "I dare you to find me again, oh wait I'm right here."

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Jitters

I'm two-thirds of the way through
my transition from New York to Austin and it's weirding me out how eerily calm I am about this. The day I left my college after graduation I cried the whole half hour drive to the hotel, then continued to cry in my mother's lap the rest of the night, falling asleep there like a big pussy. I was expecting probably something similar or a little more mature this time. After all, everything I know and love - aside from my family and my homestate - is in New York. To be honest, there was one night I had a soft cry and I'll leave you all to think it was the night I hung out with you that that happened (but really it was the night I hung out with you). Other than that, I'm aware that I'm sad about leaving a list of things, but it's been pretty okay. Every once in a while when I'm the one driving I kind of realize I'm not going back to New York and I panic a little. I'm still expecting it to sink in more eventually, but I also feel like all signs point to me making the right decision here.

Weird. Sorry. I'll try not to do more serious times here.

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