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Times Like These by The Foo Fighters... but in my head. |
Yesterday was pretty much bipolar. I don't mean that in the medical sense, just that it had two very definite themes going on.
So I'm driving to school yesterday, just minding my own business in my tiny fuel-efficient little car that will crumple like a tin can if it gets hit, and I changed lanes and drove in the slow lane. Then, without signalling, or OBVIOUSLY checking his blind spot, this dude in a Ford F350 (of course. You know, because Ford drivers are all stupid assholes who have no idea how to properly pilot a vehicle) starts to sideswipe me into the concrete barrier... luckily I happen to be pretty observant (especially when I'm near anyone in a truck, because I've seen enough of them pull scary moves like that around here) to pull back and not get hit. But it was close. Like, 2 seconds of reaction time close. So I shook all the way to the school... where, as it turns out, Mister Car Accident Waiting-To-Happen goes TOO.
I pulled up behind him.
Me: Hi. Dude. I need to talk to you for a second.
Him: What?
Me: You almost killed me on the highway back there. You tried to change lanes without looking and would have sideswiped me into the concrete barrier!
Him: Well. I'm sorry. But I've seen your car around here
(for the record, he's probably seen MULTIPLES of my car around here. It's a black Sunfire, and I can count about 15 in the college parking lot alone, nevermind in parking lots and driveways all over the city. I'd be willing to drop that number down to 5 and countless in driveways, just considering the way the body styles have changed as the years of Sunfire-production went by.)
and you go to fast, zipping in and out of traffic. [Said the guy going 120 in an 80 zone who almost killed a person today.]
Me: Are you fucking kidding. The fact that my car changes lanes faster than that POS ever could means that I'm a bad driver when you CHANGE LANES WITHOUT LOOKING?!?!
Him: *starts to say something*
Me: You know what, NO. I'd wish car-accident DEATH on you, but it's going to happen anyway because you're such a shitty driver, so I don't HAVE to. Have a good fucking day.
Oh, and another thing on the record, the guy's licence plate number is LCE - 354, Alberta plates. And I think he has the corner folded over so that photo radar can't catch him, because I really had to crane my neck to see the 4... omg. I should call the cops about that. :)
And then I went to a parking spot in my usual lot and started shaking and crying. I shook and cried all the way through my Poli Sci lecture, and then had to phone my mom so she could ORDER me to get back in my car and drive it home. I got in the car (and luckily, I'm not too scared to drive, even though there was a second there where I thought I would be) and shook and cried at least part of the way home. Mostly at this point, I was angry that he had tried to blame it on me and just upset for having the shit scared out of me in general.
So I get home, and we decide to take Gramma shopping. Which was actually pretty fun, save for the fact that I had to tell my story a few more times, and that made me cry all over again every time I managed to stop. But Gramma makes me laugh pretty freaking hard, so I eventually forgot about it for a while as she sat there and said funny Gramma things.
Then I came home again and finished everything on my Poli Sci paper. My crappy first draft got edited again, I tried to do my citations correctly, I made a reference page and title page... and now all that there is to do is just edit it whenever I see fit to try and maximize the mark... but the thing I have on my hard drive right now would definitely pass me with a nice grade too. So at least that's a lot of stress off my shoulders.
Anyway, later on I drove shaking over to Jason's house, and we traded keys. Because I'm too much of a girl to drive my car right now, and I like the security of driving in the biggest and most badass Chevy I've ever seen in person. There's something much safer-feeling about 2/3rds of a ton of solid steel, a pushbar that once drove through another vehicle and sustained a scratch, and a Chevrolet 350.
So it kind of begs the question what to do with my Sunfire. Obviously, I love the little girl, but the safety thing is becoming a bigger and bigger issue as the drivers in Medicine Hat get worse and worse. Everyone's noticed a steady decline in the driving skill of people around them, and most of my friends and family - myself included - now drive by clinging to the steering wheel frantically and staring wide-eyed around them like a monster is going to come stomping out onto the road. The free and relaxed feeling I used to get while driving is slowly being replaced by a constant mathematical calculation of the chances of (x) car doing (y) crazy shit and the (z) outcome of me trying to dodge it. I am also SERIOUSLY not looking forward to snowfall.
Basically, I'll be fine this year. My mother leaves for Mexico in January and she's NOT taking her truck... which means I can drive the Jimmy as much as I want. It's got 4x4 and it's much bigger and proven safer than my 'fire. This spring, I'm planning on breaking out the Bel Air with much more intensity. I want to take lessons from someone on how to most-effectively drive a rear-wheel drive, and then invest in two sets of tires: all-season and winter, sandbags, and whatever minor repairs it may need. That way, I'll have a big safe tank of a car at my disposal.
And after that, I'll need to start looking at something safer for an everyday car. In my fear yesterday, I started picking out trucks from the 70s and 80s with solid-steel bodies, but that really remains to be seen. There are a lot of pros to something like that (huge engines, safety, general badassery) but there are also a lot of cons (buying used older vehicles means maintenance, fuel efficiency and environmentalism, parking the damn thing). So, we'll pretty much have to see about that, or maybe it'll mean getting a safer car or crossover vehicle with a newer date on it. All stuff I have to consider.
Anyhow, to put the feather in my cap of a bad day, I went ahead and reheated some shepard's pie. My mom was eating in the office so I went and sat in her dumb-fuck boyfriend's usual chair, shut his laptop so I wouldn't get pie in it, and moved it off to the side. I was talking to her when he walks in and goes: "You did NOT just shut my laptop! I've been downloading something for four fucking days!" and I tell him I'm so sorry and hurry to open it. I check, and then call out to him that his download is still working just fine and that I was sorry again... and then he storms towards the office yelling: "You keep your fucking hands off my computer, I can't even believe that you..." and then my mom sort of got up, stood between us, and stared him down.
I said I was sorry again, but I was already starting to shake, because hell, I'd already been crying all damn morning, my defenses against that kind of thing were NOT back up. Her dumb-fuck boyfriend (as he will from now on be referred to by) mixed himself a drink in the kitchen (because solving nonexistent problems with alcohol is very healthy.) and then eventually walked out of the house.
That was when I lost it. Doing more of that fun shaking and crying I'd been doing all day, trying to explain to my mom that she can do much, much better. I also explained that I feel like I'm being slowly shuffled out of my own house with him here (they have a campaign going right now to "better" the house, which usually involves moving, destroying or taking something that's MINE) and how he was always nasty to me when he thought she couldn't hear. There are a lot of other grievances there too, but those are really what the whole thing boils down to. I basically told her that if I matter as much to her as she says I do, she shouldn't be with someone who doesn't like me, end of story.
So I got upset about him for a while and she tried feebly to defend him even though he's the biggest dumb-fuck we've ever met in our lives, bless her little heart... and then she finally agreed with me a little. Of course, the second he came home she was obviously planning on ripping a strip off him for it anyway, but the fact that she conceded a little ground to my face made me feel a little better.
It was about that time that Clarissa showed up for a pre-planned wine and crackers girly-night sort of thing. She saw that I was crying, said something funny:
Mom: Well, what can I do for you?
Me: What?!
Mom: What can I do for you guys so you can have a nice night? Do you need glasses?
Clair: I'm going to need a glass, I HAVE A GARNISH!
Me: ...Awesome.
grabbed tissues, glasses and a corkscrew and we proceeded to get lightly toasted on White Zinfandel and Champagne while reading Cosmo and gossiping... it was really helpful in my current situation, and a better end to the night than I think I could have otherwise expected. After she left, I spoke to Marcella briefly about the laptop closing situation, and how yes, he had every right to be angry... because the world was ending. It makes me feel better overall to have that one put in perspective, especially when we started joking about how there was a rumbling sound in Medicine Hat that night, and not because of any man-made event, but simply because the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were sent on their way, the second I closed that laptop, only to be diverted when I quickly realized my mistake and opened it again.
Tonight is going to be another girl's night, this time with a wider selection of girls, and probably dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. So that should relieve some of the mounting stress on me... hopefully.
I think that's it for this morning.
-Mel
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amused
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cheerful
determined![[info]](http://www.deadjournal.com:8080/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
uncomfortable
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contemplative