After what many people describe as an excruciating drive across Wyoming (gotta love I-80) I arrived in Colorado Springs. I actually didn’t mind the drive, I needed the time to think and figure some things out – and the 8 hours went by fairly quickly for me. I think the town of Green River (in the western half of the state) is perhaps one of the most the only interesting bit – it looks exactly like Southern Utah, all redrock and greenery. Quite strange, really. Reminded me of my trip to Zion National Park. The rest of Wyoming was really just miles and miles of flat, prarie-looking stuff. There were cows, and I even saw an antelope (I think, deer-looking animal with enormous antelopey horns). Because it is still early in the spring, the grasses were green and new. So, while my cell-phone service was shoddy, at least the scenery was pleasant – if not stunning. (I’ve driven through Wyoming in the late summer and everything is a depressing shade of brown. And after 8 hours most people would be about ready to jump out the window).
JenKneeBee and I have had a great time here in “The Springs.” Of course, I forgot my camera cords – so I can’t download any of my pictures until the weekend. (Boo!) I promise to fill you in on all our (mis)adventures!
NEXT POST FROM COLORADO SPRINGS: Garden of the Gods
I have come to a fairly serious conclusion. And this is not a joking matter, so try not to laugh. My office is in a HORRIBLE location! We are situated almost smack-dab between the two major metropolitan areas along the Wasatch Front, near the freeway and close to a couple of mini-malls. Sounds perfect, yes? Ha! No! In the last few months we have had capsized cement trucks burning in the road, and our parking lot was ambushed by a set of runaway semi-wheels, much to the dismay of our CFO and his beloved Jag. I had hoped things would be clearing up! And, well, they have. Sort of. There haven’t been any more rolling wheels of destruction descend on my workplace from the ominous I-15. But, nevertheless, there are still considerable safety issues to deal with on the way to work. (Did I just use “nevertheless” in a sentence? Yikes!)
I was on my way back from lunch, minding my own business when I see the flashy red and blue lights in the distance and traffic backed up for miles. Oh Great! An accident! So, I slow down and as the cars crawl along at 10 miles per hour I am making mental lists of various things: groceries, things to finish up at work, favorite books, previous co-workers, countries in South America, etc. As I got closer I realized that this was NOT a small accident, more like a major collision. There were cars scattered across 3 lanes of traffic and 2 semi-trucks pulled onto the shoulder. As I tried to dodge broken pieces of bumper and rear-view mirrors, I began to think of my own car accident, in the exact same location, about 6 years ago. And as I saw the paramedics rushing around trying to help the victims, I was reminded of just how lucky I actually had been.
It was a dark and stormy night…. ok, I’m trying to be serious, but it really WAS a dark and stormy night… or dusk… or something. At any rate, I was on my way home from the mall during the middle of rush-hour. I was cruising along in the fast lane and noticed my exit was about a mile and a half away. I needed to merge across 5 lanes of traffic. No biggie, I did it all the time, (in one-lane increments, people! I don’t swerve across the entire freeway like a dumb blonde!) I checked my mirrors and put on my blinker and when I glanced at my blind spot I noticed a little white truck coming up fast. I decided to slow down a bit and wait for him to pass me instead of speed up and take the plunge. A perfectly logical and safe decision, right? Right. So, while I’m waiting for the truck to pass, I opt to change the radio station and in the 1.4 seconds it took to glance at my dashboard to find the little preset button, the freeway decided to take a SHARP right-hand turn. I glanced back at the road and realized I was heading into the median and directly into a big, fat, steel pole. I jerked my wheel to stay on the road, and, as the police officer kindly explained to me later, I overcorrected and sent myself into a spin. Across 5 lanes of traffic. During a rainstorm. In rush hour.
As I was nearing the gravel shoulder on the opposite side of the freeway, it occured to me that when I hit the loose rocks I was very likely to start rolling. Luckily, as I was spinning across the slow lane I actually came in contact with a teeny little rusty-red beater car. I hit them head-on and the impact slowed me down enough to be able to control my car with a frantic yank on my emergency brake. I stopped. Just a few feet shy of a steep decline that seperated the freeway from the frontage road. I wasn’t hurt. My airbag didn’t go off. My car wasn’t mutilated beyond recognition. My front bumper had somehow got caught on the other car and was laying in the middle of the road. But I was ok. And the other guy was ok. He had a bashed in headlight and a couple of scratches on his bumper. That’s it. I got out of my car and started walking around in a half-daze. Thankfully the kind gentleman from the car I’d hit got a hold of my elbow to prevent me from wandering into the freeway. I was shaking like crazy and could hardly stand up because my legs were like jello. He asked me if I was ok, and through my shaking and sobs I only remember telling him I needed a hug, which he immediately gave. He was wearing a leather jacket and smelled like soap.
Witnesses pulled over and the police and ambulance were called. I was fine, although the EMT’s gave me something to try and slow my heart rate; I was in shock and kept hyper-ventilating. One of the women who had seen everything happen sat by me and held my hand. She kept telling me over and over that I had a whole flock of guardian angels watching over me. She said the way other cars moved out of the way, and how I finally stopped, and the lack of damage to both vehicles, and the fact that no one was hurt was nothing short of miraculous. I like to think she’s right; I like to think I have a cloud of angels hovering over me making sure that I don’t step in cracks in the sidewalk, or hit pot-holes, or run into things while carrying something heavy, or trip on the stairs, or lose my luggage. Or get parking tickets. Or have relationships with (any more) hurtful men. I like to think that my angels are kind of like fireflies. They just kind of fly around, making little adjustments in the universe to keep me safe. And every-so-often they glow a little bit brighter, to remind me that they are there, watching over me. Do you believe in angels?
Yesterday I managed to go about a thousand miles an hour all day, even though I had a ridiculously little amount of sleep the night before. I slept a fairly normal amount last night (8 hours) and woke up this morning with only a teeny bit of the “Must. Go. Back. To. Sleep.” grogginess. Ok, so I’m on my way to work this morning after a quick stop at Einstein’s and, like usual, I am cruising along at something like 83 mph. I come around a bend of I-15 and see about 4 cop cars with lights flashing, parked in all directions and taking up the left two lanes. I quickly swerve around them and as I’m passing I take a quick peek to see what’s going on. (Yes, I rubberneck, I realize that other commuters will hate me for this, but I’m curious!! I rubberneck, you rubberneck, my mom rubbernecks, my neighbors rubberneck… it’s a fact of life. Get over it.)
I see is this tiny, white, sorry-looking Tercel pulled over quite haphazardly and surrounded by police. My first thought was “drug bust!” However, as I drove past I noticed that all the doors were open and there were three Highway Patrol officers bent over searching the car… and there were 4 or 5 large glass bottles, half-full of liquid sitting on the roof of the car. About 100 yards down the road there were three scruffy, saggy, incredibly unfortunate looking twenty-something guys sitting on the freeway with a couple of officers hovering over them. They weren’t hurt, but they looked like they were in BIG trouble. From what I gather – these upstanding gentlemen had not stopped drinking since yesterday (or last week, it’s hard to tell) and decided that while on their way to the liquor store to stock up on beverages they’d throw back another gallon of vodka. Brilliant! Seriously people, what the hell!? I am careful about watching for potential drunk drivers at 1:30 in the morning on my way home from, uh, wherever; but at 8:45 AM? Honestly! Aren’t they supposed to be passed out in a gutter somewhere? Or asleep on an unknown person’s couch/floor/bed? Or stuck to the floor of whatever bar kept serving them drinks? I am not being too harsh. If you are drunk, stay where you are or call a freakin’ taxi.
Filed under: Driving Miss Daisy
I am experiencing a rare case of semi-serious writers block. Usually I have no problem whipping out a post during the morning – I typially come up with an idea the night before or during my commute, find a couple of funny or ironic bits, make a (sometimes outrageous) stance and publish! However, today I am in the throes of something unfamiliar that is preventing my continuing any idea for more than a few sentences.
I could tell you about Miss Daisy – she went in for surgery on Tuesday to replace her recalled brake switches, and has to go back next week because they somehow messed up my left-blinker, again. I was driving home from work yesterday and it went on the fritz – so, I called the dealership and have another appointment for Monday morning.
I could tell you about how much I love my new pink shoes. I bought them in Las Vegas and even added little butterfly Jibbitz to spruce them up a bit (one on each shoe – nothing too extreme). I have always thought Crocs were horribly ugly – but the mary-jane style and the pink color have almost convinced me that I might need another pair – say, in red or orange, maybe celery or lavender? Or perhaps try a different style?
I could tell you about Grey’s anatomy last night, my previous opinion of that show is even more justified after last nights episode. And I didn’t even have to say it! Last night someone ELSE mentioned how this “medical drama” is a soap-opera… something I’ve been touting for months. It’s Days of our Surgical Lives meets The Young and The Restless Horny Interns. I stand by my opinion.
I could tell you that the other night I went trail running in a nearby canyon, and got hit in the face by a fairly good-sized branch. I now have branch wounds on my forehead, and under my nose… and a VERY annoying split in my lip. I sort of look like road-kill! Bad, very very bad.
I could tell you about how the weather is finally warming up and starting to REALLY be spring-ish…. but who wants to hear about the weather? I’m afraid my mini-work-crisis and the extraordinary flurry of activity to solve it has transformed the consistency of my brain into something resembling squashed flies. I have been on the phone for about 28 hours straight – and while I am nearing a finish line (and a deadline) – I am ready to throw my phone into the trash compactor, or the blender, or just box it up and send it out with the DHL guy. I am VERY much looking forward to this weekend – get a little relaxing in, go to the St. Patrick’s Day festivities, hang out with people I like, and ignore my phone completely. Yes, I’m really quite excited. Hmmm…as much as I thought I didn’t have a thing to write about today, looks like that is a topic all on its own.
Besides a few run-ins with drunken Nascar fans, I was hoping to pass through Las Vegas without having to deal with this hickish group too much. Not so. (For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, there was a huge Nascar race at the speedway outside of Vegas on Sunday morning – with the preliminaries/qualifying rounds for several days beforehand). On Sunday morning I got up early and checked out of my hotel to get a jump on the drive back to Salt Lake. Well, I got about 3 miles on I-15 and entered “Nascar World.” There was bumper-to-bumper traffic, at 9:00 in the morning, for about 6 miles. Now, that doesn’t sound so bad… until you take into account that it took me almost 2 hours to get through those 6 miles, I had shin-splints from my clutch and I was surrounded by racing fans. These are the types of people who are decked out in their favorite free T-shirts and sponsor hats, huge foam fingers & bullhorns, and have already downed a couple of beers for breakfast. It was bad, the freeway was FULL of buzzed rednecks. Note to self: Nascarians are funny, but a little unnerving. Try to keep a safe distance.
Filed under: Driving Miss Daisy
Ok, “surgery” may be a bit dramatic, but this is my baby we’re talking about here! This afternoon CNN announced a recall of several models of Volkswagen’s to have their brake lights & brake light switches replaced. It looks like Miss Daisy Mae is going to get new switches! Or lights! Or whatever. Obviously, I am not really into cars. However, in addition to this recal replacement thingy, I would like those VW grease monkeys from the dealership to fix whatever they broke on my left hand turn signal… it was fine right up until they changed my oil. And now it has fits of double time – very strange. People keep telling me that means the blinker light is out – but how can it be burned out only half the time? It makes no sense. I am making an appointment tomorrow morning, I also plan on getting “Get Well” Balloons and flowers as part of the recovery process. ;o)
Yesterday I drove the 900 miles from Anaheim, CA to Salt Lake City. To be honest, it was kind of a soothing end to a horrific week (yes, I realize it was Wednesday). The CHA Convention was not what I thought it would be. Yes, I did get some good things out of it – enough to monetarily make the trip worth while, but it had been talked up so much I couldn’t help but come away a bit disappointed. And I have decided something: the drive from SoCal to Vegas is MUCH worse than the drive from Vegas to Salt Lake. Even though it is 200 miles shorter, there is a whole lot of nothing, and it keeps going and going and going. At least from Vegas to SLC there is some gorgeous scenery!! The desert bluffs in Mesquite, the Virgin River Gorge, the redrock in St. George… by that time it was too dark to see much else. However, a full moon made the snowy mountains sparkle and shimmer. Now, I don’t know if I’d want to do the California-Utah drive often, but it really wasn’t so bad. It was good for me to decompress and be alone with my thoughts (and some kick-ass music – thanks Jen!).
It’s snowing. No, correction: It is blizzarding! Salt Lake is supposed to receive tons of snow over the next two days, and this leaves me with three major predicaments.
- I left my bedroom window open…this should be interesting.
- I have yet to find someone to come over tomorrow morning, dig out my car, scrape off the snow & ice, get its heater going and then run around the corner to fetch me a bagel. Which means I’ll have to do it myself – which I kind of hate. Who wants to get wet & freezing cold first thing in the morning?
- My commute home from work today will resemble an intricate ballet – but instead of graceful dancers there will be clumsy cars and instead of a wonderland-theater, black ice & damn near impossible driving conditions.
Yes, the Dance of the Sugar Plum Automobiles, now playing on your local interstate. Price of admission is a drivers license and a death wish. Oh, and make sure to sign the safety waiver prior to merging. Please turn off all cell phones, pagers, and portable fax machines and concentrate on your fishtail-correction skills. Thank you, and enjoy the show.
Filed under: Driving Miss Daisy
I woke up this morning, late as usual, and did my best to get ready for work. Eh, I have wet hair, no makeup and I’m wearing fuzzy slippers… but I digress. I get in Miss Daisy, and drive my regular 156-block commute, get off the freeway and see a BIG mess. My office building is situated on the frontage road that runs parallel to I-15, it is frequented by enormous trucks hauling gravel, rocks and cement. And, this morning a cement truck tipped over onto the road – and from what I could tell it caught on fire – it looked fairly burned out. CRAZY! Seriously, I love my job but this location has some serious issues!! Remember a few weeks ago when a set of runaway semi-wheels pummeled the CFO’s Jag in our parking lot? And they say location is everything – so far, not impressed! I’m still trying to find a picture from this morning – in the meantime this will have to do. 
PREVIOUS POST: Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’
My new job is amazing. Yesterday we spent 3 hours in the middle of the day eating pizza and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. No, this was not our Christmas party (that’s on Friday). So, most people came in their pajamas and lounged around laughing and eating pizza and licorice on the company sponsored “long lunch,” on the clock. It was great!
So, we are all sitting in the break room having our fun and the Sherriff walks in. He loudly asks who here drives the Jaguar (our CFO), the black Maxima and some white Toyotoa something-or-other. The three guilty parties (surprisingly all men) admit their auto’s and the Sherriff tells them to come outside with him. I immediately assumed they had participated in a group mass murder – and stupidly drove their own getaway cars. Actually, that wasn’t the case – the truth was FAR worse!
My building is just off the freeway, the only seperation between us and the road-rage filled commuters and monster truck/semi-drivers is a strip of patchy grass, a few sketchy bushes, the frontage road and a gravel-filled median. So – when the 18-wheeler semi LOST two of his wheels, they bounced over the median, hit the frontage road and took a flying nose-dive right into the Jaguar and smashing up the neighboring Maxima and Toyotoa. Looking at that Jag was enough to make one weep! The entire engine had dropped onto the parking lot and the windshield pieces were all over it’s interior. I almost felt like we should had held a funeral! In checking out other parking-lot damage it occured to me that the offending tires had jumped directly over Miss Daisy – the Jag was parked opposite me! I am convinced that if I drove a squarish vehicle my roof would have been ripped off and strewn across the asphalt. DAISY MAE NEARLY GOT KILLED BY A STRAY SET OF SEMI-WHEELS!! What are the freaking odds! Today the entire company is fighting for parking spots behind the building, and why wouldn’t you!?! I even got up early to guarantee safety for me and mine. (And those of you who know me probably realize the significance of my getting up early…it rarely happens!)
PREVIOUS POST: Tonka Truck From Hell
