Bad Driving Blues....

As a former L.A. driver, I thought when I moved back to the midwest, it might be a little safer to drive on the roads, not to mention a lot faster to get from one place to another. I should have known from my earlier Midwestern days that while the latter might be mostly true, the former...is not.

My initial delusion is forgivable, I think. After all, L.A. drivers are...bad. There are certain things that I've seen in my days of driving in Los Angeles that are definitely the marks of driving in a city. For example, a friend emailed me yesterday to complain about drivers who think that because they use their turn signal, they have the right to change to whatever lane they choose to drive in, regardless of whether anyone is in their way. I had to sympathize with her; I've seen this many a time and it's always a little terrifying when the car next to you suddenly decides it wants to be where you are. And so the driver attempts to do so, ignoring the fact that...well...you're already there. Without some swift defensive driving, there is no way to avoid the inevitable collision if that driver decides he must, indeed, change lanes.

Though, I did remind her that the fact he actually used a turn signal was a privilege. So many new cars seem to come without turn signals these days, have you noticed? I wouldn't dare assume that so many drivers just don't know how to use one, it must be the car...right?

Ultimately, I think my friends complaint comes down to the overwhelming sense of entitlement that affects so many drivers in L.A. They get impatient because THEY have somewhere to be. You see this the most on the freeways. During morning rush hour, the only thing to do is to have patience. Traffic isn't going to move any more quickly if you get impatient. And yet, some people still haven't learned this and so you see what I call 'the lane shuffle' in which a car will attempt to outrun you by hopping, Frogger-style, from lane-to-lane. Most drivers watch this with amusement because they know that Mr. Frogger won't get there any more quickly than anyone else. This is usually proven moments later when Mr. Frogger realizes he wants to exit and is now stuck in the lane furthest away from the off ramp. Thus begins his game of 'reverse frogger'. Sometimes they make it, sometimes they don't. If he doesn't make it, often he'll honk and yell at everyone for making him miss his exit.

Drivers like Mr. Frogger seem to forget that they are not the only drivers on the road, nor are they the only ones with somewhere to be. When I first moved to L.A., I would get panicked in the mornings on the way to work if I got stuck in traffic. I hate being late, you see. Soon after, I learned that virtually everyone in the city has to commute from somewhere and being late is acceptable if it's due to traffic.

Moving back to the Midwest has given me a new perspective on driving, I have to say. I do love that sometimes, especially on the way to my parent's, I'm the only driver on the road. I can drive for up to ten minutes without seeing another driver. Yet, there are still bad drivers here.

Recently, I've noticed something that is fast becoming a pet-peeve of mine. It's usually concerning pick-up truck drivers or, sometimes, SUV drivers. You see, I get stuck behind them on the road. I'm not a Speedy-Gonzales driver by any means but I do like to at least go the speed limit. I usually go 60 or, at the fastest, 65 in a 55 zone. I know, technically, that's speeding but it just doesn't seem that fast. Anyway, when I get behind these drivers, they 're usually going about 45 or 50 mph in a 55 zone. I can deal with this a little better if they're old. It's probably a form of ageism or whatever but I tend to cut older drivers a little more slack.

It's the young couples I can't stand because what they're doing is having a conversation. I can hear you saying..."So?". Well, the thing is that they're trying to have it face to face while driving. Yes, you can actually see the driver constantly turning to face his partner as he tries to steer his truck. While I'm an advocate of manners, there's also such a thing as common sense and, call me crazy, but you'd think that while you were driving a big old pick-up truck, not crashing it might be the priority rather than staring at your lovely lass while you chat.

If it had only happened once, it would be ok. It's happened about six times in two weeks. It's usually on a busy two-lane highway so I can't pass. Instead, I get to watch John-Boy and Mary-Jane having a good old chat.

I should probably be more sympathetic because, after all, it is the Midwest and people take things slower here. I probably would be except that usually when I'm stuck behind one of these drivers, there is a parade of cars behind me all riding one another's bumper. Having been rear-ended during my first month in Ohio, I'm a wee bit weary of people being too close on my tail these days. I can still hear that crunch and feel the thud of being hit if I close my eyes. I don't want it to happen again. I usually leave at least a car length between me and the car in front of me these days, just in case I do get rear-ended again.

Yet I can't do anything about the parade of cars behind me. If John-Boy and Mary-Jane continue their conversation and he suddenly puts on his breaks, he's not getting hit, I am. Hence my dislike of getting stuck behind them.

There are other bad drivers here and they're not just limited to the roads. This morning, I almost got slammed in the carpark of my apartment building. Every morning, I pass by a driver that is speeding through, on her way to pick up someone. This morning, the sun was in her eyes. I know this because she was shielding them. She was still going at least 25 mph in a 5 mph zone. She didn't see me. I swerved, she just missed me. She barely slowed down.

I know, I'm probably guilty of bad driving at times, just as we all are. Sometimes, we just can't help it; we yawn at the wrong time, we forget to look both ways. We forget to look at our front end as well as our back end when pulling out of a parking space. There are all sorts of ways we can screw up. Yet there are bad drivers out there, drivers who forget that they have to share the road, drivers who are so worried about their own time that they forget that other people's is just as precious.

I suppose it's a comfort to know that even now I've left L.A., there is a little piece of the city here. Granted, it's one of my least favourite parts of the city but...I'm trying to look on the bright side. I suppose it just means I have to concentrate on being a better driver. Now...if only everyone could try that...

Happy Wednesday...

Paranoia in the Rearview Window

It's a cold and wet day outside the window where I sit today. It's the kind of cold that doesn't measure on a thermometer, a damp, chill that sinks into your bones and sits there. Even though it's warmer than it has been, the temperature reading doesn't mean much. It's in the wet rain that mists the air making things wet but falling so finely, it's almost invisible.

I think I've been complaining a lot lately. Whether it's a book that irritated me (yes, I'm talking to you, Story of Edgar Sawtelle), a movie or just the general blahness that hits in the deep winter months, I feel like I've been too negative.

I'm going to try to break out of that pattern. I actually did some writing last night. That was a good feeling. I know, I write on this blog every week day so, technically, I do write almost every day. Yet the type of writing I do in the evenings is different, it's fictional. It's much easier to babble about the world around me than make up something somedays.

It's Wednesday. That means it's closer to Friday and, if everything works out, I will have a three day weekend. Keep your fingers crossed that the title to my car arrives at the DMV this week. I'm starting to feel a little homebound. I drive to work from my home and back. Last weekend, I was daring and went a little further. Yet I keep alert to the possibility that at any moment a police car could pull behind me and see my license plates are technically expired.

So far, I'm doing ok with that. I'm ultra paranoid though. I have this picture in my head of a police car getting behind me and then I panic and suddenly turn off, my tires squealing as I do so. Then I get followed by the police and they pull me over and take my car away. Naturally, I think if I don't do anything ultra-obvious like, say, flee from the police in a dramatic manner, I might be ok. I can actually be quite rational in these situations.

However, if all goes as planned, I won't have to worry as of Friday afternoon. I will actually be able to drive proudly though I will be extremely sad to give up my California license plate. It's my mark of pride at the moment, my excuse for driving like a snail on snow, if snails drove, of course. It's my sign that yes, I'm not from around here, I'm a newcomer, be nice to me. Of course, at the moment, it's an enormous flashing beacon to police. It doesn't help that the expiration date of my plates isn't tiny like on the Ohio plates that I see every day. Instead, the year and month are on two rather large stickers, visible with 20/20 vision from the car behind me. I used to stare at those stickers a lot when I lived in L.A. and got stuck on the 10 freeway or the 101 as was the case when I moved there.

My first few years in L.A. were spent commuting from "The Valley" as it's known. I used to take the 101 and drive by the Hollywood sign daily, the Capital records building, the sights that look so glamourous in photos but border on seedy in real life. Then when I moved, I took the 1o freeway from a different valley. This commute was more boring but I had to pay more attention because the freeway split three times before I made it to my destination. Only a couple of times did I forget to split, finding my way into parts unknown and quickly turning around in case I got more lost.

Nowadays, my commute is easier. I hop in my car, turn left twice, turn right once and then turn into my parking lot. I'm always shocked that not only is it a quick trip but there's always parking spaces and I don't have to pay for them. I used to have to pay monthly in L.A. for the privilege of parking my car to go to work. These are some of the things I do not miss about Los Angeles.

Though there are some things I miss; I miss the heavy rains of February, the streets flooding with swell of the rain. I miss my friends, the quick trips to a movie where we'd make a dinner out of a hot dog and popcorn. I miss the fact that on any day, every movie currently in release is playing in the city somewhere. I miss the ocean and the trips to the English tea room I'd take with a friend after going to the Santa Monica pier.

Yet I'm not unhappy to be here. Now I have the chance of rain every day, not just during the 'rainy season'. I have my snow and the newness of the world it creates. I have my family, just a short trip away (unless the plates on my car are expired like...now) and I have a new life, one that's just begun. The discoveries I make every day are fun, from seeing a deer in the field behind my balcony to exploring a six-acre grocery store that keeps me in British goods without having to fly to the U.K.

I'm happy where I am but I'm happy where I've been. I'm curious where the road ahead lies.

Just as long as when I look in my rearview mirror, there aren't any police.

Happy Wednesday.

In which I pick up a Stray...

There are some days that seem like they were made for not getting up. Today is one of them. The temperature is warmer today; it's supposed to reach almost 50 degrees. For Ohio in December, that's rare. It's also welcome because it means the ice will melt, the ground will clear, renewed and ready for the next snowfall. Today, however, it's raining. It's the gloomy kind of rain that is set in for the day. The sky is a charcoal gry, the clouds angry and heavy, the drops falling sporadically but heavily and the ground is soaking wet.

Naturally, I love it. I love the sound of the beating rain against the window. I got to hear that last night. Despite my intentions to go to bed early and get a good night's sleep in hope of kicking this dark Pootle cloud that I've been under since Sunday, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned and tried to sleep but it wouldn't come. I hate nights like that. On nights like that, it's hard to clear your head whether it's a 'to-do' list, a writing idea, a bad experience you keep replaying over again or just a dejection at the way life is going. It's hard to sleep with that much on your mind.

When my alarm went off this morning, I was already awake. Though burrowing further under my covers would have been most appealing, I finally got up. I keep the heat low at night because I like the room to be cool while I'm cosy in bed. It was chilly though I knew it was warmer outside. I followed my normal routine but somehow managed to leave work a little earlier. The vague thought of Starbucks danced in my head but I wasn't that early. As I was going out to my car, I was stopped by a man I've seen around my building. He was stranded; he was a student at the university for which I work, his car died and his ride hadn't showed.

Though I don't actually work on campus, I drive right by. I felt sorry for him. I hate being stranded. So I gave him a ride. It turns out he recently moved from San Diego, California, had been in the Navy and now was a part-time student. He was friendly and he was nice. I dropped him off.

That was it, really but, in a way, it was much more than that. It was a break from my routine. It not only took me on a different route to work but it actually gave me a chance to interact with a human before I got to the office where, depending on how you see my coworkers, some of them never seem quite human anyway. Sometimes a little human interaction is all you need to give you a little boost. I love living alone but sometimes I get trapped inside my own head and those shadows of doubt that I blogged about last week seem a little deeper. Playing on Facebook doesn't always help, either. I have a lot of friends on Facebook, most of the time I love that. Yet every now and again, I'll receive a suggestion for a friend that takes me by surprise, it's a face I haven't thought about much in years. It's not always a face that comes with fond memories. Most of those faces are on photos that include children, wives and families. And every now and again, I see a former acquaintance and I can't help but think "HE/SHE has kids?" and then the inevitable "What's wrong with me?" starts.

So, I know, sometimes I need to get outside of my own head. But sometimes I have to go there, particularly when I'm writing. It helps to shut out the world and let my story/characters in. Lately, the writing isn't so easy. I can't get a grip on it. I can't settle down and let it flow. My character's voices aren't so clear as usual. That's a strange feeling for me.

I know that it's times like this that make the sunny days and snowfall seem that much brighter and uplifting. After all, you can't have the shadows without the sun which means eventually when the clouds part, the sun will shine brightly and the darkness will fade. Sometimes, all it takes is a good, fluffy, wet snowfall. Sometimes, for me, all it takes is a trip to the post office, a slice of toast and a mug of tea and a little change from routine.

I've already had my change from routine for the day. Tonight, I get to go to the post office. For most people that's not fun; for me, it always makes me feel like I've accomplished something. I love the order of the post office, the stamps, the flat-rate envelopes. Yes, I know I'm weird but we've established that. I'll save my full adoration for the post office for another blog. In the meantime, tonight I'll pick up my package, go home, make some toast, drink some tea and relax, hopefully to the sound of pelting rain against my patio doors. And, if not, it means the clouds are going away and tomorrow the sun might shine.

If that doesn't work, maybe I'll find another way to break the routine, to try something new, to climb out of my shadows on my own. Sometimes, all we can do is ignore the darkness and find our own light. I still have the glow of my two-hundred Christmas lights. I've added more since then. I figure if I keep adding them, maybe I'll drown out the darkness completely. Either way, I'll try to be cheerier in my blog tomorrow. Maybe I'll pick up another stray. I'll keep you posted on that.

Happy Tuesday.

Brains and Rain

I think I feel like being lyrical today. Either that or the stark contrast of my very sort of left-brained job is leaving me empty of spontaneity and creativity. I was supposed to be born in March under a much more 'creative' sign but was born prematurely in January and fell under Capricorn instead. I think this might have made me a bit confused- I'm supposed to be very logical and organized but also love to write and make things up. I even took a quiz here for fun: http://similarminds.com/cgi-bin/brain.pl and discovered that I am 53% right brained and 47% left brained. So thus, I supposedly use both sides of my brain. I just think there might be a big gap in the middle and this is where all useful facts and figures go and are replaced, instead, by a horribly unuseful portion that retains pop culture facts that have little bearing on life whatsoever. Trust me...I can still name all the original members of Def Leppard but ask me who the governer of my new home state, Ohio, is, even though I read it on the State sign every time I leave the state to visit my family in Indiana, and I am completely lost.

Anyway...so, I started todays blog because I realized how much I miss rain. I've been living in So. Cal. for a little under eight years and it rarely rains there. It does rain sometimes, usually between January and April. Sometimes this rain is so heavy, the streets flood and the freeways become like skating rinks because the nine-months of oil and grime have built up and finally get the chance to rise to the surface of the road. Good news for the cleanliness of the asphalt but not so much for drivers. But it doesn't rain much there. And I have missed rain so much. Don't get me wrong, I like a bit of sun too- I'm no vampire. But I love contrast- sometimes people just need rain. They don't even know it but they do. It's for those days in which you feel all messy inside and out, the days in which you spend twice as long in front of the mirror, everyone tells you that you look good and yet you feel like you're under a cloud. There's an episode of a rather silly, rather awesome episode of the Flumps, a British puppet show from my youth. In the episode, Perkin, the oldest son of the Flumps, feels all day that he's under a rain cloud and is in a foul mood. His little brother, Pootle, tries hard to make the cloud go away, chasing it, tricking it, etc. Yet nothing works until something makes Perkin laugh so hard that the cloud goes away. (side note, saying "Pootle" still makes me laugh like I'm five).

What I'm trying to say is that sometimes, even though it may seem bad, we all need those clouds. We need those clouds to rain because then it makes us appreciate the sun or, in Perkin's case, the chance to laugh. Granted, Perkin laughed at the fact that there was a turnip stuck in his Grandpa's Flumpophone (the Flump version of a French Horn/saxophone combo- I think it was a Flumpophone but it was something like that, anyway) but the thing is, he laughed. It's a simple thing but, because it chased the cloud away, it meant something. It meant something that Pootle wanted to help cheer up Perkin. It mean something that Perkin realized that sometimes, there are clouds that loom over us and seem like they're never going to go away but, when they do, he realized how nice it was for the sun to be shining and the cloud to be gone.

For me, rain is more of a cleansing thing. It washes away the dirt and grime and gives the world a chance to take a deep breath and escape indoors for a while. It gives me an excuse to curl up with a mug of tea and do a jigsaw, or write, or watch an endless marathon of bad t.v. or movies. It gives me a chance to not feel guilty that I can't enjoy the pretty day outside. It lets me recharge and renew something, no matter how small, inside me. I've always found that my writing is better when it rains, particularly when I'm writing a dark, sad or angry scene. Have you ever tried to kill a character you love when it's sunny and beautiful outside? Not easy. For me, it's not possible. It tends to rain when I kill characters. That'll be another blog, some other time. But regardless, if I love a character enough, I can't make the sun shine when he dies. It's not fair. I'm ok killing minor characters on a sunny day, of course but not the ones who are deep inside me, whose voice is really telling the story.

Since I've moved to Ohio, it's rained once. I've been here over three weeks. It wasn't even a good, heavy rain. It was a mist that lasted a couple of hours. It was enough then but now I'm missing it. And though people keep telling me to be careful what I wish for, that rain (and snow) will come soon enough, I can't wait. I can't wait to curl up and hear the rain and wind blow against my windows and doors, wrap myself up in my oversized-cardigan with my hands curled around a cup of steaming tea and know that when the rain is gone and the sun comes back, the edges of the world will look a little crisper and brighter, the air fresh and new again.

It's one of the many reasons I left the washed-out, cement ridden world of L.A. for the quiet peace of the Midwest. Bring on the rain, I say, bring it on!