Storming

I like thunderstorms. 

I always have. 

When I was a kid growing up in Dallas, a substantially bigger city than where I currently reside, what I was afraid of more than anything was robbers. Not spiders or snakes or even winged monkeys. Robbers. 

The very idea of someone coming into my home, into the place where I should have been safe, was T-E-R-R-I-F-Y-I-N-G! Lil-C was afraid of them, too. I'm not sure if I did that or if she came to that conclusion on her own. 

She slept on the floor of my bedroom for years because of it. 

I would love to tell you that she did for the safety and security of being near her big sister. That is laughably untrue. If we were robbed, she hoped any ne'er-do-wells would step over her (thinking someone had accidentally left a blanket on the floor, perhaps?) and "get" me instead. I wasn't much better. I hoped that they would think I fell out of bed and "get" her and not notice me. Ah. Is that sisterly love or what?

Dallas sits right in the middle of a big, fat plain. There is nothing to break up a storm once it gets rolling. Often those thunderstorms would be accompanied by flash floods. What I'm saying is we had some big, bad-ass storms.

My childhood logic went something like this:

Thunderstorms are big, scary and dangerous. Why would someone want to commit a crime in such foul weather? Better to wait until the weather is good before breaking and entering.

Lame, but true. Thunderstorms equalled safety. 

We had a plantation style front porch that extended along the length of the house. I remember standing there with my dad during a thunderstorm. We were protected from the storm, but had a fantastic view. Lightning lit up the sky like fireworks. Thunder crashed and shook our bones. I remember feeling completely and totally at peace. 

Now, I'm all grown up. While I wouldn't enjoy being robbed and would probably freak the fuck out if a thief actually came into my home, I don't live in constant fear of them. Still, when the storms start, I breathe a little sigh of relief because even though it may not make sense anymore, I feel a little bit safer for the duration.

Bad Day

I have had a terrible day. 

On the way to work, my car spun out and I went into the ditch on the other side of the road. When I say spun out, I mean 360s. It sucked. 

Well, actually, it was kind of fun, except for being terrifying and possibly dying if another car were to hit me. 

I'm okay. The car (the stupid rental) is okay. 

Some good Samaritan pulled me and the car out of the ditch. Thank you, thank you, thank you to whoever you are. You made my life so much better today.

Certain other people were less helpful. 

I have no luck with cars. I need some good weather and happiness, STAT.

Rental Cars

Ever since the car accident (3 weeks ago already!!!), I've been driving a rental car. It's a blue 2008 Chevy Cobalt. Jealous?

If so, I don't think you've ever driven one. They're nothing to write home about.

Here's the problem with me driving a rental car: I went to Target this morning. After not finding what I was looking for, I wandered out into the parking lot in the general direction that I parked in. I didn't spot my car immediately, so I got confused about the row I parked in, especially since I made the mistake of not parking in my usual location. I wandered over another row.

Did I mention it's fucking freezing in Wisconsin right now? Below zero freezing?

It's only at this point after wandering around in below zero weather that I realized that I have been looking for my car, instead of the stupid rental car. The Cobalt doesn't even really have a distinctive shape, so I was practically on top of it before I realized I had located the correct vehicle.

This accident has been a real life lesson for me. Thanks Fate! Remind me to return the favor sometime! (In my head, this is when I shake my fist at the ceiling. Angrily.)

Things I have learned:
1. My car is awesome. I miss it. A lot.
2. Rental cars suck.
3. Insurance companies suck.
4. Causing an accident is OK. All will be taken care of for you.
5. You will rue the day you were ever hit by someone else. Everything will be as long, drawn out and painful as possible.
Awesome!

Scary!

Today, I was rear ended on highway 151 by some jerk who was driving too fast and following too close. My rear window was shattered and my bumper was crushed like a tin can. 

I'm okay. 

The cop asked me if I was okay at least four times. By the end, I wanted to say, "Dude, I was just in a car accident. Is okay relative? Then, for just being in a car accident, I'm okay."

The worst part?

The guy honked seconds before he hit me. Just long enough, so that I had time to look into my rear view mirror and watch him hit me. That's the part that keeps playing over and over in my head. 

Honk, glance... CRASH!

Hopefully all of you have had a better day than I did. Be safe out there and remember not to follow too closely or you may end up being the jerk in the rear view mirror. 

I'm Not Ready

FancyTalker and I had a pow-wow this afternoon about some projects we're working on. As he got up to leave, he said, "Do you see that? Out the window?"

At which point I glare at him because he knows good and well that I cannot see out the window from my cube. Also, I cannot see over the tops of the cube walls out the window either, being so short (a fact which he likes to rub in), so I am forced to walk to the nearest window to see what he's going on about.

Snow.

Big, stupid, fat flakes swirling around.

It's like beautiful, floaty, cold, death.

Months and months of harsh winds, poor driving conditions, wet dogs, wet pant hems, salted

streets, winter jackets, cold hands and tons of cold, wet snow.

Yes, it's pretty, but I'm not ready for this.