MOTH and I just got back, after leaving this morning to take the BEAST to see her aunt and uncle (the only sane people on her father's side) in Indiana. We met about an hour from their house, and it took us about 3 1/2 hours to get there. It might not have taken as long had I not taken the wrong turn which took us through Dyer and Munster instead of East Chicago. But is certainly was more scenic! The trip wouldn't have been so bad if we had air conditioning in the Poverty Mobile. We had a very nice, long spring, and then we've SNAPPED into summer. Today was a long hot miserable drive, made worse by the fact that Beast was listening to Bon Jovi on her headphones, and MOTH was listening to the new Harry Potter book on HIS headphones, and with the windows all open, I couldn't play the radio because in order to hear it over the road noise, they couldn't hear what they were listening to. So. It was a long silent boring drive. But pretty.

The visit, as usual, was very nice, I like the aunt. She's a great lady.

The drive back was pure hell. Ok, the WHOLE ride wasn't hell. Of course, while MOTH napped I maintained a martyristic stance by not listening to the radio. Kinda defeats the purpose of being a martyr though, when you don't have an audience. Actually, he didn't sleep all that long, but he listened to his book. We stopped to get gas since it was 20 cents cheaper there than here, and he was going to drive, but asked if I'd mind. Actually, I prefer driving to passengering. I get all nauseated and bored when I don't drive. And I tend to be a control freak, so I worry that he (or anyone) will fall asleep at the wheel. Yeah, I know, silly.

Anyway, it wasn't bad until we got on the Skyway. That 3 mile stretch of constantly under construction that costs $2.00. That was the first of many parking lots I found myself in.

What the fuck is with that? WHY does that happen? No, there were no accidents, no tickets being given. Nothing to see that I could tell. So what makes the fucking traffic just come to a complete stop, and then pick up? And on a SUNDAY afternoon, yet.

I am a good driver, I've never had an accident that was my fault. Seriously. I've been run into twice, once from the side and once from the rear (I was stopped at a red light!).

I am polite. I understand the meaning of "merge." It means TAKE TURNS! That means, you let someone in ahead of you, and then you get to go, and then someone can slip in behind you and then the next guy goes...just like a hand folding it's fingers. It's not a hard concept, is it? I mean, am I just some sort of genius that I can get this and others can't? I try to be patient. Aside from the person who I SHOULD allow in, I also make it a point to allow in the driver with the panicked "OH SHIT NOW WHAT DO I DO" look on his face. I also allow in any car older than mind who's driver's side door is dented in, most likely in another attempt to "merge" out of turn. And then there is anyone dressed in army camouflage. I pretty much let them do anything they want. But I don't give in to the crap holes who race ahead, ignore the signs letting them know that a lane is ending, and try to force their way in. I especially love to give not an inch to new shiny cars. I usually win.

I also understand the laws of physics, namely inertia. Why does anyone in their right mind tailgate while going 70 mile per hour? I don't tailgate. I even leave a car length in front of me at stoplights (which saved me the time I got rear ended at one).

Now, I don't want to paint a picture of a slow nerdy driver either. I go the pace, up to maybe 75 or 80 on familiar expressways in Illinois. Out of state, I usually set the cruise at 5 miles over the limit and stick to the right lane so I don't have to be on constant alert for marked and unmarked cops.

Enough bitching. I'm tired and cranky, stinky and sweaty and hungry and stiff. I don't care if it's not even 9. I'm going to bed. Even still, I have to wonder...

Where's everybody going????

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