Thursday, March 24, 2011

On being a girl

This week I've been driving a rental car while my car is in the shop for repairs from the fender bender.
The indignity of driving a giant Impala around is bad enough, but to make matters worse, the interior light wouldn't turn off.

I pushed every button I could find. Opened and closed every door plus the trunk. Pushed the light itself. Tried turning every other light on and off. Nothing worked. I drove around with the interior light on all the time, even at night. It stayed on when the car was turned off. I could not figure out the solution.

Finally, I got so exasperated, I drove back to the rental place and asked them if they could figure out what was wrong with it. The rental guy got in the car, turned a knob and got back out again.

The light was off.

Thanks, Rental Guy. I kind of hate you a little bit now.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Not my typical commute

This morning as I was driving to work, I noticed a man walking down the side of the road. There was no sidewalk there, but a sort of little path worn into the grass. This was on a very busy road where traffic is going about 50-55 mph.

As I got closer to where the man was, he looked straight at me and hopped out into the road directly in front of my car!

I had to swerve quickly to the left to avoid running him over. He laughed as I passed him and got back onto the path on the side of the road. I watched in my rear view mirror as he did the same thing again to another car further behind me.

I called the police. I felt bad about alerting them because he looked like he might be homeless. But I figured he may be mentally ill, or even suicidal. And even if he doesn't want to get hurt, he could cause a serious accident by jumping out into traffic. I drove to work, feeling sad for him and for our world...where people try to harm others for their own pleasure or gratification.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Are You My Mother?


Last week I got an unusual email.

It went like this:
Hi Mom!
Hope everything is going well down there for you guys! I just wanted to drop a note and say hi! Can't wait until you get back so I can hear all about it and see pics!
Love,
Meagan
Unfortunately, I had to break the sad news to Meagan that I am not her mother. I felt bad about doing this over email, as I'm sure the announcement came as quite a surprise. But I felt like it needed to be done. She deserves to know the truth.
She never replied back. I know she'll heal. Eventually.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Bieber Fever

Last weekend I went to the beach for a girls' weekend to celebrate my mom's birthday. Our group ranged in age from 60 (the birthday girl!) down to seven (a friend's granddaughter). This was my first time to meet the little girl and it turns out she developed quite the girl-crush on me.
Everywhere we went, she would walk or sit next to me, never leaving my side. She kept up a running chatter about everything that popped into her head...I can totally see her being my next intern at the radio station. ;)
We spent a lot of time in the pool and hot tub together...just having girl talk...with a seven-year-old.

Let me just point out how difficult it is to take a self-portrait with a touch-screen phone in a hot tub. Not. Easy.

The conversation between us went something along these lines most of the time...
Me: "So what's your favorite thing at school?"
Alli: "Second grade is my favorite and I don't ever want to leave it but most of my friends are in first grade because they're nicer than my friends in second grade and my best friend Kenedy plays with me even though her friend doesn't want her to oh and there's a boy in my class who likes me and tries to talk to me all the time but I don't like him. I like all the other boys in my class...I don't know why...I just can't help it." Deep sigh.
Me: (trying not to laugh) "You like all of them? Do you have a favorite?"
Alli: "Well Justin Bieber is my favorite. I want him to be my boyfriend and then we can grow up and get married. But Selena Gomez is his girlfriend. I hate her. I like her show, it's good. But I don't like seeing her. I want to hit her sometimes. One time I had a dream that I was at Justin Bieber's concert and I got to go backstage and meet him and then he kissed me and I fainted. I didn't tell my mom and dad about that dream."
I wouldn't either, Alli. I wouldn't either.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Holy Blog Delay, Batman!

How has it been ten days since I last blogged??! I swear I thought I posted at least a couple times last week. Methinks the squirrel in my brain-wheel is running slower these days.

And it's not even for lack of material that this blog has gone silent. Perhaps it's more like lack of time.

On Monday, as I was driving to work, I got in a minor car accident. I was stopped at a stop sign, waiting for the other cars to go through the intersection. All of a sudden, BAM! A guy in a huge pickup truck slammed into my car from behind. I still don't fully know how it happened. I mean I was at a complete and total stop. He had to have seen me in front of him. But apparently he was looking down at his phone and didn't realize he needed to put the brakes on.

Fortunately, the damage to my car wasn't too bad. Just a dent in the rear bumper. Unfortunately, my cup of coffee that had been sitting in the cup holder splashed all over the interior of my car. Adding insult to injury, coffee also spilled inside my very favorite handbag! I think I might be more upset about that than about the car.

Needless to say, Monday was stressful. And things didn't get much better at work. That is, until the mayor called. Yes, that mayor. As in the mayor of the city of Houston. I answered the phone and she said "This is Mayor Annise Parker, may I speak to Laurie?" "Hello, Mayor! This is Laurie," I said. "How are you doing, Mayor?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied. "But I should be asking how YOU are doing...I heard you got in a bit of an accident today. Are you okay?"

Let me just say that I never in my life imagined a scenario in which the mayor of Houston would be chit chatting with me about the minor tribulations of my day.