Freeway Gods - Satan in Disguise?

The Freeway Gods were out to get me again today.  I don’t know why they hate me, but they do.  Today, it was their mission to get me to slow down. 

1. I could barely get out of my office parking lot because the cars were lined up so far back.

2.  When I did finally manage to break free of the corporate parking pen, I had to slam on my brakes for a pedestrian crossing at the light.

3.  They let me drive down the road toward the freeway but apparently I was going too fast so they arranged for an 18 wheeler to pull out of a side street up ahead of me and proceed to drive 25 mph to the freeway ramp. 

4.  Yes, of course the 18 wheeler got on the freeway ramp right in front of me.  You didn’t think the Gods were going to stop with #3, did you?

5.  So, onto the freeway we merged at- yawn -35 mph.   I watched with envy at all the cars in the left lane hurtling by us at 70+ mph, laughing and laughing.  I think one of them even pointed at me.

  6.  I was allowed to finally go around the truck, gaining admittance to the secret club (the left lane), only to meet construction downtown.  Although one sign said “Both Lanes Open”, everyone felt the need to slam on their brakes at the sign that said, “Right Lane Closed” - despite the fact that there were no cones or barrels in or blocking  the right lane, it was obvious that people the people brave enough to chance it were still rather suspicous.  They were in the questionable right lane but kept leaning toward the left lane (aka ME). 

7.  I made it to the US-131 ramp safely, since I was only going 40 mph.  Merged onto 131 without incident, which surprised me.  I thought the Gods might have stepped out for a smoke and perhaps forgotten their task of punishing yours truly.  

So naive of me, which brings us to number…

8. Rocketing down 131 south at the ol’ double nickel (that’s 55 mph for those of you born after 1978), I was stuck behind a pick-up truck which was stuck behind a semi truck which was closely following a car carrier truck. 

 Naturally I thought of changing lanes, but the van in the right lane was pacing the pick-up and as an added bonus to my sanity – had left his right blinker on for three miles and I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that it wasn’t going to be turned off anytime soon. 

I also could have changed lanes to the left, but they were only going 2.5 mph faster than my lane. 

9.  My mind wandered to sandy beaches, sunny days and anti-anxiety medications.   And then

FINALLY – AN OPENING!

10.  I raced into the left lane!  I barreled around the semis and Mr. Blinker!  I shot back over to the right lane and into the 44^th St. Exit!  Whoo Hoo!  Freedom!  Yes sir, we’re moving now!

Did you hear it?  Someone is laughing.  Who is laughing?  Crap.  The Gods. 

11.  I got stopped at the light at the top of the ramp.

12.  I got stopped at the light at the very next street.

13.  Light turns green.  The truck in front of me peeled off at A (as in one, single, solo, uno) mile an hour.    He picked it up to 20 mph and then decided to live dangerously… top speed of 38mph.    I had to check and see if I had gotten out of first gear yet.   Yep.  3^rd gear.  Wow. 

 14.  Once again considered changing lanes.  Except the bozo in the other lane decided to race, or is it PACE the bozo in front of me.  They were BOTH going 38 mph.  I felt like a pawn in Parcheesi game stuck behind a blockade.     What a dangerous city I live in.  I hope my insurance rates don’t go up. 

15.  Sandy beaches.  Cool breezes.  Muscle bound men carrying fruity drinks.  Tiki music wafting around like birds in the clear blue sky.   What?  Sorry, drifted off.   Oh, my turn off.   Oh look.  Mr. 38 mph pick-up is getting into the left lane right in front of me.   Yeah.   The gods aren’t crazy, they are laughing their (*$#*^ off. 

16.  Light turns green, we go.  And I use that word loosely.   We turned so slow that I almost stalled my truck in 2^nd gear.   Lug, lug, lug.  

17.  Look, Mr. 38 mph pick-up is turning into my subdivision right in front of me.   I wiped the tear off my cheek and pushed on. 

18.  I finally, finally, blessedly made it to my house.  I drove up the driveway faster than half my ride home!  

And here I sit, crying in my beer (wine actually), wondering what those SOB’s are plotting for me tomorrow.  

Automation in the Bathroom

During my recent trip to/from Arizona, I happened to use the restroom at O'Hare Airport.   A true sign of the times: 

1.  The toilets flush themselves - and whenever they want, no matter what you may still be doing.
2.  The water at the sink comes on when you wave your hand in front of it, just in case you never learned how to use that metal pushy lever thing.  You know, you pull up on it and it magically makes the water come out of that long silver tube. What's that called? 
3.  While you are still trying to figure out how to use the automated water system, the soap comes squirting out about 1/4 cup, most of which lands in the sink because you didn't know it was going to do that so you didn't have your hand there to catch any but the last teaspoon, which is all you really need anyway.

So, after all this automation, hand washing and singing Happy Birthday to make sure I scrubbed my hands long enough (and by the way, every time I hear that song now, all I think of is the bathroom),  I turned and walked over to the paper towel dispensers. 

At the dispenser to my right was a tiny elderly Asian woman furiously waving her hand in front of the dispenser.  She couldn't get hers to work.  She looked at the side, she looked underneath, she waved and waved and waved some more.  

I looked at mine.  I pulled the lever down twice and out popped the paper towel.  She looked at me.  She looked at my dispenser.  She looked at her dispenser.  And just started laughing.  She looked so embarassed.  I just winked and shrugged.   Well, I can't really blame her.  The bathroom was so automated you don't have to do anything for yourself except sing Happy Birthday.  Having to regress back to manual paper towel dispensers threw us all off track. 

Thank you O'Hare Airport for a laugh on a really long day.  Had you completed your automation, I wouldn't have anything to post right now.

Knee Jam

Have you ever intended to flush the toilet in a public restroom using your foot to push the flusher valve, only to totally miss it and kick the wall, thereby jamming your knee?   Uh, me either.  I was just asking.

No Particular Place to Go

Have you ever been driving behind someone who was going so slow that you began to wonder if they were wanted by the police? 

Call Me Charlie Brown

I went to JCPenney the first week of October (2010) to shop for a new shirt for a vacation to Arizona.  Nice hot climate.  Vacation.  Time away from reality.  I didn’t want to have to think about anything annoying.  Ah, but the world never stops.  Therefore, I was of course annoyed by something.   What did I see when I walked in the door?   A CHRISTMAS TREE!   

I couldn’t believe it yet at the same time I wasn’t surprised.  But I was angry.   I was there to shop for a new outfit that I could strut around Arizona in.   Hot weather.    It isn’t even Halloween yet.   The leaves were still green on the trees.  Christmas was and still is the last thing I want to deal with.  I didn’t want to think about Christmas because it just means cold weather and debt. 

Autumn is my favorite season.  It is so colorful.  Oranges, gold, reds, greens.  So many fabrics - cotton, wool, flannel, fleece and denim.   Autumn is almost every season all wrapped up in one.   The mornings are dewy, the afternoons are bright and warm, but the evenings are chilly.   You can wear your short sleeved cotton shirt, cover it with a flannel jacket and end the day snuggled in a fleece blanket in front of the fire. 

The trees explode with color.  Those of us from the Midwest immediately think of apple orchards, pumpkin donuts, raking leaves and baking bread.   Such a vibrant and exciting season!

But no.  The retailers killed that for me.  Being confronted with a Christmas tree was the limit.  BEFORE Halloween.  It used to be at Thanksgiving.  Then just before thanksgiving.  Then right after Halloween.   But now?   BEFORE Halloween! 

I stood in the doorway of the store and launched into a tirade about it.   My husband patiently stood there and tried not to look like he knew me.   It didn't work.  

No, this is just not acceptable.  Not to me anyway.   Get away from me with Christmas.  Don’t rob me of the pumpkin bread and warm apple cider and hay rides and snuggling with my husband in one of his flannel jackets that smells like bonfires, leaves and his cologne.   I will not allow that to be spoiled.   And I hope all of you won’t either.

Stand up for the seasons.  Tell the retailers to buzz off. Quit rushing us through the year and our lives.   It isn't about their bottom line.  It is about us taking back our rituals and our cherished childhood traditions.

Why do I say to call me Charlie Brown?  Because I agree with him.  Christmas is just too commercial.  And a Christmas tree on October 1 proves it.    I used to laugh at Art Van for having a Christmas in July sale.   In a few years, they will be the norm.   Then they will have to move it to St. Patrick's day just to stand out.  Oy! 

I am getting tired of it.   I don’t know.  Maybe it’s just me.

Opening Day

Today is opening day for my blog.   I thought of many different names and settled on something I say most every day - "Blah, blah, blah, but maybe its just me."   So, welcome to my blog.   I hope you enjoy my comments and thoughts.  I will say it like I see it and I can't worry about the rest.   It's just the way I am. 

Good Evening,
Michele