Yeah, winter sucks.
I just commented on a blog and referred to snow as the white devil.
I know, I don't have it too terribly bad. Here in Louisville, Kentucky we got three-ish inches of that powdery posion yesterday, and today we've had pretty constant flurry of activity. The main roads in town are better now, but the driving through my neighborhood is still akin to a death wish.
Enter: me, yesterday, sliding through my subdivision at a respectable hour of the morning, so for to get to work on time. I was so proud of myself for a) pre-starting my car to let it get warm and toasty for me (and isn't it supposed to be good for the vehicle as well?) and for b) allowing extra time for my short commute to work.
There I sat in myshiny snow-drenched little Pontiac Vibe -- she's cherry red, and all sportyspice. This is our first winter together, so all the way up the icy hills of my little piece of suburban Louisville I gave her a little pep talk that went, "Come on Bella, do it for Edward."
(Yes, I named her Bella. I had just finished reading the fourth book when I bought my car. Sue me.)
Well, Bella was crusing along with no trouble at all -- like Kristi Yamaguchi on wheels -- until we reached the front my my neighborhood. (You have to understand that most mornings I am running at least one to five minutes late, so usually I negotiate that right turn onto the main road withthe tiniest bit of reckless abandon.)
Not yesterday, though. Yesterday I planned to excute a full and complete stop (as opposed to "totally pausing.") I even contemplated flicking on my right turn signal for good measure.
Bella had other ideas. Perhaps she was under Voltari control.
She. did. not. stop. It felt like time did, though.
The neighborhood ended; the two lane highway began, and Bella and I were out there, in the middle of it, watching a van barrel down the road toward our left side. I uttered the same four-letter-word about four times, and scooched back into my seat as far as I could go, arms extended and gripping the steering wheel for dear life. (I thought scooting back might help if the minivan did hit the car, that maybe I could be "back" away from the damage. Funny, the way we think when the mind goes into survival mode.)
Well. Thankfully, Bella decided to stop skidding right in the middle of the road, and the minivan saw us in time to bypass us by easing into the other lane, where there was -- thanks to my lucky stars -- no oncoming traffic.
My heart was pumping faster than that of a teenager attending New Moon and watching Taylor Lautner remove his tee-shirt for the first time. My whole body shook with more fervor than the whole of the Pentecost.
Crisis averted.
(But winter still sucks.)
I just commented on a blog and referred to snow as the white devil.
I know, I don't have it too terribly bad. Here in Louisville, Kentucky we got three-ish inches of that powdery posion yesterday, and today we've had pretty constant flurry of activity. The main roads in town are better now, but the driving through my neighborhood is still akin to a death wish.
Enter: me, yesterday, sliding through my subdivision at a respectable hour of the morning, so for to get to work on time. I was so proud of myself for a) pre-starting my car to let it get warm and toasty for me (and isn't it supposed to be good for the vehicle as well?) and for b) allowing extra time for my short commute to work.
There I sat in my
(Yes, I named her Bella. I had just finished reading the fourth book when I bought my car. Sue me.)
Well, Bella was crusing along with no trouble at all -- like Kristi Yamaguchi on wheels -- until we reached the front my my neighborhood. (You have to understand that most mornings I am running at least one to five minutes late, so usually I negotiate that right turn onto the main road with
Not yesterday, though. Yesterday I planned to excute a full and complete stop (as opposed to "totally pausing.") I even contemplated flicking on my right turn signal for good measure.
Bella had other ideas. Perhaps she was under Voltari control.
She. did. not. stop. It felt like time did, though.
The neighborhood ended; the two lane highway began, and Bella and I were out there, in the middle of it, watching a van barrel down the road toward our left side. I uttered the same four-letter-word about four times, and scooched back into my seat as far as I could go, arms extended and gripping the steering wheel for dear life. (I thought scooting back might help if the minivan did hit the car, that maybe I could be "back" away from the damage. Funny, the way we think when the mind goes into survival mode.)
Well. Thankfully, Bella decided to stop skidding right in the middle of the road, and the minivan saw us in time to bypass us by easing into the other lane, where there was -- thanks to my lucky stars -- no oncoming traffic.
My heart was pumping faster than that of a teenager attending New Moon and watching Taylor Lautner remove his tee-shirt for the first time. My whole body shook with more fervor than the whole of the Pentecost.
Crisis averted.
(But winter still sucks.)
Comments
pedofilespice?
pedophilespice?
epic fail.
I slid into someone's front yard once? That was probably a wonderful sight for them to behold while sipping their morning lattes.
"Good morning, honey."
"Mornin'. Could you pass the..."
"What is it, dear?"
"I think a Ford Focus just pulled up in our flower bed."
What is he, a manilla folder?
btw, so glad I'm not the only one still using the line "i totally paused"
I hate the cold.
Awww...Bella totally came through for you. Too bad she totally cheated on Edward. Didn't come through for him, did she? Yeah, I said it.
Grrr...
Fifteen degrees right now in the knuckle of the Thumb. But it'll be spring before we know it.