I SURVIVED!!! and other equally dull events of my life

First of all, I want you all to know that I survived!

Um, what?

Come on now, can't you read my brain? I know that technology is truly advancing, so therefore the mind must be too as we "evolve" into more astute creatures. So of course when I say "I survived" you know immediately that I am saying that I am alive after my first driving experience on the expressway and am oh so glad that we prayed for protection! I know you are bored after I have repeated what you already knew, but I figure that just in case you aren't incredibly gifted like the rest of us it might help you to know what I mean by "I survived."

So anyway, I survived. Actually this is really an old story because I drove on the freeway nearly two weeks ago, but I figure it's just as true as it was then that I survived (or I guess it is because if I hadn't I would have heard about it by now). Well, we were driving up to my dear grandma's internment in Maine, and to make a long story short, I drove all the way to the Maine border and part of the way back. So:

~I survived driving on an interstate with only about fifteen hours (at the time) of driving experience on country roads! I also felt extremely guilty when I went 80 mph on a 65 mph speed limit because I was terrified of going too slowly in the left lane when I was passing someone. Don't worry, I was pretty close to the speed limit the rest of the trip, and lucky for me, Craig was even able to sleep part of the way so at least everyone in my vehicle wasn't biting their nails the whole time--just my mom who was monitoring me in the front seat. Over all, the ride up was pretty easy.

~I survived when a thunderstorm hit us on the highway! I had only just started driving again when we noticed that we were driving straight toward some ominous evil-looking green clouds, and then there was lightning along the way and rain and rain which I wasn't too used to and we had to pull over and wait for the worst of it to pass.

~I survived when someone pulled out in front of me and stopped to turn when I didn't realize it. I was soooo thankful that the brakes worked, since that was the closest I had ever come to having to slam on them!

~I survived airport driving! Now I may know how to pick somebody up when I need to!

~I survived rush hour traffic coming out of Manchester when I was trying to get into a different lane and I didn't know when to turn and nobody was letting me! We were also running late for something. T'was stressful indeed.

~I survived when I cut someone off in a lane change. I felt really bad about it since I didn't have to change when I did, but somehow it didn't occur to me when I saw them in my sideview mirror that they were right there. Thank the Lord we didn't have any accident and they didn't even seem angry--they just passed me.

Hmm, I know this doesn't really sound like anything scary for all of you superb drivers out there, but if you recall your first experiences of these things you may understand how it was a big thing to me! Thankfully I'm no longer traumatized and it really wasn't that big of a deal, but still it is remarkable how the once frightening places seem so mellow now. :)

On a slightly different and more random note, my driver's ed teacher said something interesting the other day. Someone was asking him why in NH you're not considered legally intoxicated under the age of 21 unless your BAC level is 0.02--if it's illegal to be drinking at all, why do they "allow" a BAC 0.01 in a minor and what would that be called? My teacher's reply sounded something like this:

"That," he said, "is called internal combustion." Internal combustion? The whole class, the teacher included, burst out into laughter. Yes, there is definitely a difference between "consumption" and "combustion."

Finally, my latest event this weekend was a quick trip down to Cape Cod! It developed quite suddenly. My parents were gone for the weekend, and Friday afternoon I was working on this and that, fully expecting to spend a quiet weekend at home and maybe go to Laura's graduation. Then Craig came home from work and asked me if I wanted to go to Cape Cod with him to visit "the Cousins." About two hours later, we were on the road. The plan was that Craig and I would drive down to the Cousins, he would sail back with Uncle Earl (and as it turned out, Bria) on his boat the next day, and I would stay and go back to their house with Aaron, Cara, and Ryan on the same day (Saturday).

And thus it occurred. Even though we didn't go to bed until about quarter of one Friday night we were up the next morning (after the others had left an hour or two earlier), rapidly cleaning the house and were out of there at the check out time of ten o'clock precisely. The day was gorgeous--just the sort of day you DON'T want to be leaving the beaches of Cape Cod. But after wading briefly in the bay, picking up ice cream cones at the general store, and waiting for a long time while Aaron and Ryan tried to find the place they were supposed to drop the keys off at, we were finally off. Cara got the lucky job of driving with the trailer in tow, along with a back seat that was so stuffed that you couldn't see out the rear view mirror at all. But she did just splendidly and if anything it made me feel more useful by helping her check her blind spots and being an extra person to read signs. In the meantime, Aaron and Ryan followed right behind in Craig's car to make sure that nothing fell off the trailer. Happily the trip was pretty uneventful except for plenty of talking.:)

And that's most of what I have to say. Of course we arrived at their house safely and had a nice but slightly sluggish afternoon from being tired. Visited, laughed, played a finish the quote game, watched Ryan give his dog a bath, moved some furniture, relished fresh strawberries, chuckled at on-line movies, wondered at not having heard from the "sailors" (so of course Aunt Ali had the Coast Guard radio them to make sure they were okay), and finally went to bed late and tired. The only other unusual thing that happened was when Cara forgot I was lying on her floor and stepped on me in the night. Ouch. But I fell back to sleep and almost didn't realize what had just happened--lucky for me and for her. The sailors did get back safely, and in the morning Craig and I got up and drove home to get ready for the day and go to church.

The End.