an open letter to...

Dear Idaho Driver who ran me off the road in March 2008:

You van-ed me. You straight up van-ed me.

This is what you did to me: "Van-ed (v., past tense): to be inconvenienced on the road by a person in a minivan or larger van; this may include bodily psychological, or emotional harm often leading to feelings of rage and discomfort. Vanning most often occurs while you are in a hurry, or when those driving the minivan deem it necessary to assert themselves as imcompetent rulers of the road."

Like most of the driver's of minivans (i say most as not to offend), you decided it would be a perfect time to go five miles under the speed limit in the lefthand lane on Highway 395 on the way through the Tri-Cities. I was on your tail, yes: I was on your tail because of your apparent lack of knowledge of highway driving rules. The signs are everywhere, "Slower Traffic Keep to Right." You were the slower traffic, therefore you should be in the right hand lane. We were the only two cars on the road. Seems simple enough.

But no, driver-of-teal-Safari-minivan-with-Idaho-plates, you did not follow the rules. What was I supposed to do? Wait another five miles on your tail and hope that you will notice there was someone on your tail?...My outlook was looking grim to say the least. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and move into the righthand lane in order to speed around you. Chances were probable that you were not going to move into the righthand lane, so I made the decision and stuck with it. This decision, mind you, was made as my rage toward you as a minivan driver finally seeped to the surface and came out verbally as a couple of choice swear words. I wish you could've heard me.

Mostly though, I wish you could've seen me. It must've been too much to look in your rearview mirror, it must have been too much effort to turn your head to the right and look behind your shoulder to see if anyone was in the other lane. You must've been swatting a child, changing the radio station. Perhaps you were picking up Goldfish that were strewn about the interior of your car by an angered toddler.

You don't even know that you made me slam on my brakes, do a 360 on the road and end up thankfully in one piece in a ditch on the side of the highway. You were too busy with the above tasks. You just drove away, drove away in your VAN, leaving me with a busted car, a condescending police officer (there is no other kind) and a 124 dollar ticket for "Driving with my wheels off the roadway." You're swell.

Concisely put, it is this, terrible epitomizing van-driver: I don't wish you harm. I'm gald I'm alive, and I truly hope that you are happy being an ignorant and terrible driver. I hope nothing remotely close to my accident happens to you, because I'm not that type of person.

But, karma's a bitch.

Sincerely,
Sarah Weakley (proud Civic driver)

prepared

i am getting on a plane for south carolina in about three hours.
as mentioned in an earlier post somewhere around here, i have spent this summer not being in any one place for a long time. my mother likes to use the term "traipsing," mostly in a condescending way, to describe the way at which i have been moving about life recently. "traipsing" means (v.)- to walk aimlessly, with a storklike gait. i pray that when i walk i don't look like a stork, but this summer sometimes i have felt aimless. aimless mostly because i have been moving around so fast, gone every weekend that i am traveling across the country to a place i am nowhere near prepared for and i'm not really even fazed. amazing what traveling around mostly by yourself for a whole summer will do for you. it makes you tired.
and i don't honestly know what being "unprepared" for a trip is, but it mostly is mental. i'm very excited to go, but i haven't thought about all the great things that i'm going to get to see. all the amazing food i'll eat, all the Dolly Parton fake breasts i will discover (yes, i'm going to Dollywood). my physical being has just been moving so fast that i can't seem to remember what it means to be mentally prepared for something. but i guess that can be a good thing- no expectations and an open mind i think can lead to the best kind of journeys. just waiting, prepared enough but not overanticipatory (pretty sure that's not a word).
as for "traipsing," you can be sure i'll be checking out my walk in the mirror too. maybe the storklike gait is what my mother has been referring to all these years and has just been waiting for me to really look up the word.
maybe though, with all this traipsin and unpreparedness, i'll meet a cute Clemson boy. that would make my aunt Mary very pleased. i think i can be ready for that.

marriage- a list of sorts

moving into my new apartment, i now have a slight feeling as to the inevitable "combination of crap" that occurs for the newly married. except this time, i am marrying not one, not two, but three people's crap. the two people who lived there before andy and i moved in left most of their stuff behind, as they are only leaving for a year to head off to korea or something for some socialist thing. from here on out they will be referred to as the "socialists." because that's what they're under in andy's phone.
the good news is that the apartment is a sweet location. the bad news, i didn't realize quite how much crap the socialists left for us, and discovered it all last night as it is my job to make the space functional before andy moves in for real next weekend. it was a daunting task. so, in order to understand the severity of the issue, i will make a list entitled:
2 Socialists Who Left Behind...
- 1 trunk (old school style) filled with most of the spices and pots they left in their kitchen cupboards. most of the spices i will never use (i.e. rice wine vinegar), so i put it back in the trunk, on which the TV is now placed. the contents will never be seen again.
- 3 containers of garlic powder (found in the trunk)... because you might need to take one in your purse to a restaurant.
- 5 traffic signs stolen by one of the socialists in their high school years. if i was 17, this might be cool. andy likes them. they're going behind the couch.
- 1 clock about 2 feet in diameter. it's always 5:07.
-roughly 6 sets of four glasses in varying sizes and colors. the dude apparently "couldn't resist" buying sets of glassware, so we now can have a cocktail party for the whole english department. i have no clue what to do with them. i will also never drink out of them.
- NO EXAGGERATION. roughly 90 hangers. there are no words.
-20 half used legal pads. i opened up the drawers to the dresser they left for me and discovered two full drawers of legal pads, broken binders and filler paper. they obviously had lots of business meetings to attend to, or in my case they had about 20 theses to write. i could probably use them as wallpaper for the whole apartment.
- in another drawer, about 30 highlighters. odds are none of them work, but they are clearly meant for the legal pads. i'll have to start doing something very important soon.
-1 almost completely empty bag of cat food in a drawer in the bathroom. you all know my love for felines. (see "tolerate" if you are unaware.)
-2 containers full of white "stuff." one container has "Powdered Sugar?" scrawled across the top. my confidence in their food is waning at best.
-1 of the ugliest giant area rugs i've ever seen. circa 1985. possibly stolen from the set of The Cosby Show. the only place i can think to put it is in my room, but i'll have to write a disclaimer.
-2 boxes still unopened as of monday morning.

it's going to be a long day. good thing i live above a bar.