In Driving News...

People here can't drive.

Before any Little Rockian that may read this gets upset, just.... just wait.

I moved here from DFW... pretty much the capital of bad driving (behind Houston.... I thought...and anyone from Tennessee). I battled 635, 35 and Beltline on a regular basis. I know bad driving. I spent a long time after I moved out of small town East Texas to DFW trying to control my road rage. With Little Rock being smaller than Dallas... I assumed that the number of A-hole drivers would go down, too.

Nope. Little Rock wins.

I live and work in West Little Rock - so I rarely have to get on the highway anymore. Typically, when I do finally get out of West Little Rock, it's because my husband and I are venturing out together and he is driving - so I pretty much try to ignore the driving aspect of the journey. I take residential roads to my job... I eat lunch at home usually... I have my own corner of LR here. I like it.

Last week we helped Couch Amanda move from WLR to the Heights (closer to downtown, for those of you who are unfamiliar). She even has her own couch that we packed up (awww). Her dog, who occupies my backyard at least once or twice a week (her name is Kota), was staying with us during the morning of the move because, as Amanda said "she knows your backyard and those smells". We were done by 2 with the big move. Couch Amanda provided pizza and beer.. and then we took naps.

I had an appointment at 4. I was backing out of my driveway at 3:40 when she came to get her dog from our backyard (which always bums Pete out.... Pete digs Kota). I waved and kept going. I had places to be.

I'm less than a mile from my exit, when I saw this asshole driver move from the inner left lane allllll the way over three lanes of traffic without a signal into the right lane. This was... I guess 4 or 5 cars ahead of me. I just shook my head... as I had already done 3 times on my short drive because that's how it goes here. Ignorant driving. Traffic lights are just a suggestion... lane stripes don't matter. Blinkers? What's a blinker?

So... this A-hole driver is a few cars ahead of me now... and they exit where I'm exiting.

I get a little closer to this jerk.

A little closer, again. I recognize this dent in the left back bumper....

Then I see Dakota's little head pop up from the passenger seat.

THAT IS AMANDA. THAT IS MY ASSHOLE DRIVER.

Yeah. I was leaving my house as she was getting there... and she managed to get in front of me? What?

I've said this to her face before, so I'm not going to hold back: she is a terrible driver. Imagine the worst female driver you know: she is that PLUS she is Asian. It's bad. The bad part: she thinks nothing of it. In her mind, she is a fine driver. Every time she hits the road.. I get nervous for her. And anyone that may cross her path.

The first time I rode somewhere with her - our friendship was new and I was nicer. Now, when she offers to drive I laugh and tell her how much I value my life. And my limbs. And not having to be medicated.

I immediately called her (which I realize now was not really going to help ANY of this... plus it was going to distract her from "driving") ... at this point I'm right behind her. She would never know because mirrors don't matter to her (in the car).  I can see her digging into her purse for her phone. She missed the call and then called me back real quick just in time for me to turn off the street and away from her. I recapped the whole thing for her... naturally, she denied that it was as bad as I was saying - but just trust me: it was. It was bad.

I'm not trying to say that I'm the BEST driver... but I did attend the David Carlile School of Driving.. so... I'm at least slightly better than the average driver. (that one's for you, Dad).

So... with all this negative Couch Amanda driving talk... I am also going to mention this:
My year and a half long streak of not hitting any idle objects with my vehicle is over. Except this wasn't totally idle...

When it thunder storms here, as it so often does, we put our big dog in his bed - which happens to be in the garage. He is terrified of thunder. If it's nasty weather during the day when I need to be at work, the garage is the best option because Shep is not to be trusted in the house alone (I recall a missing Sonicare, chewed up hot rollers, a destroyed vanity and missing makeup. HE ATE MY SONICARE).

So... he doesn't mind being in the garage - but he hates when I open the garage door to back out. I'm sure it's the noises and the headlights and the rain... but I hate soooo much to hear that dog cry.

I jumped the gun the other day. As soon as I hit my garage button, I slammed it in reverse and.... caught the garage.. Yeah...All to avoid hearing my Shep cry.

It's not so bad... the husband shook his head at me and said "it'll buff out". Hopefully the Jetta is still going to get her facelift soon... even though my not driving into things streak has started over.

4 whole days!

Avoid the "R"

I'm not particularly good at driving in reverse....

And when I say "not particularly good", what I mean is: I totally avoid it. I don't even parallel park. Ever.

So when I backed into our garage after a trip to the grocery store on Monday, people were impressed. Well... I was impressed. My husband was impressed. See? People.

We don't have a short, flat and easy driveway. We have a monster, steep, insane driveway* (side note to come).

I also have a little problem hitting idle objects. In fact, I've only ever hit idle objects (mostly going in reverse... of course). My first incident occured when I was 17... backing down a driveway that I had only been parked in for less than 5 minutes... I hit a friends truck and knocked it into the street. I was driving a teeny tiny car and knocked a truck into. the street. Dad was upset, but I'm pretty sure he wanted to laugh.  

About a year and a half ago I managed to side swipe one of those cement platforms that gas pumps sit on... making my back passenger door difficult to open. It wasn't such an eye sore that it became a priority to fix... plus, to be honest, fixing a dent in my car just isn't high up on the priority list anyways. It was a super cramped, awkward parking lot - the husband grumbled a little, but he knows me... so it wasn't a huge deal (you should know... the DAY this happened my sister got a brand new car. not just any car: the car I wanted... I was cranky about it for a good 3 hours).

6 months after the cement gas pump thingy jumped out in front of me... one of my maintenance men at work decided it would be a grand idea to park his golf cart behind my car. in the dark. while it was raining. Naturally, when I left the office, I did not check to see if there were any golf carts behind my vehicle.....SCRAPEEEEEEEEE allll down the same side of the car as the other dent. This one is a little more noticeable. Husband (and father) rolled his eyes at this one. I still maintain that it was not totally my fault.

It's safe to say that my next mode of transportation will include one of those little rear view camera things. Fancy.

Here we are, a year later. I haven't hit anything in a year... and I think that's a good enough record to get my car fixed :) The Jetta is very excited about her facelift. We have many more great years together. This may even inspire me to clean the trunk out.

I have a lot of junk in my trunk.

No really. It's bad.

Side note as promised: **Our driveway is a pain in the ass. but you aren't allowed to say that. Only we're allowed to talk about our driveway in such a manner. You see, we understand that it would bother some people - but pretty much any time someone new comes over, the first thing they do is complain about the driveway. It gets its feelings hurt and I get annoyed. This is how I look at it: we're very unlikely to get robbed. Between the giant dog, the alarm system and the steep driveway - they'll just pass on by. Whoever "they" may be. Bottom line: I see my driveway. I love my house. Find something nice to say if you come over. Rant complete.

I don't play the piano.

Three years ago I had jaw surgery. Yes, that's right, I had jaw surgery a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving (it was the only time I could do it....it was complete torture).  With that being said, I was incredibly drugged up and still not quite used to staying awake for full days when Thanksgiving dinner with the family came around. Saying it was "jaw surgery" makes it sound wayyy more simple than it actually was, but I'm not going to go into all of it because it's quite boring unless you're my dentist or surgeon (I hope they're both enjoying their boats!).

I wasn't even engaged to JD yet - and I was still news to his family. He has a really, really sweet family - and I love them to pieces, but back then I was still trying to impress them and show them that I was (am) a keeper. It was still the awkward part of a relationship as far as hanging out with the family went...they had only known I existed for about two months.. and here I am post surgery, drugged up and sitting at their dinner table not eating. Loads of fun for everyone involved.

Before I knew it - this is all extremely blurry to me - my future mother-in-law fills an awkward silence with "oh, Melanie plays the piano AND the organ!"

I, unable to really react in decent time, finally realize what she has said and give my not-yet-husband a look with my eyeballs practically falling out of my face that says "I DO NO SUCH THINGS"... he is, in return, giving me the exact same expression. Luke is sitting in between us. The conversation has all ready moved onto something else. His Aunt Linda has acknowledged that "Melanie plays the piano AND the organ"... the moment to correct them has passed. Besides, I'm drugged up... so I'm sitting there worried that I may have TOLD HER that I play the piano AND THE ORGAN... but I couldn't recall.

I think I had 4 naps that day... and it just didn't come up again. I figured it would go away and I wouldn't have to address the fact that I do not play the piano. Or the organ.

Then Christmas came around.

My boyfriend's mom, who thinks I can play, regularly plays at church and is incredibly talented, asks me to play while we're decorating the Christmas tree. I don't really remember what I did to get out of it, but she just concluded (out loud) that I was just being modest.

Easter comes. Same thing.

Eventually she asks more frequently.

We get married.

We have a year anniversary... all the while, this is going on. "Oh, Melanie, why don't you play something? I have music right here!", "you must be so talented you just don't want to show off"... inside my head. exploding.

By now, I've told my mom what's going on. She thinks it's hilarious, but I was really worried about explaining to my Mother-in-law that I didn't know where she came up with that... but I am not a fellow piano player. I was embarrassed that I had let it go on this long. But if you know my mother-in-law, you know that she is so sweet and so gentle... and the last person on earth you would want to disappoint. I guess I also came into this family worried about disappointing them (eh, insecurities... sillyness) which made it even harder to face. Mom and I had several discussions on how I could make this go away - but her advice was always to just tell the truth.

I called my Aunt Diana - who plays and has taught the piano - to ask her how long it would take her to teach me a song... a good song that seemed complicated enough for a pro to play - but easy enough for an amateur. She laughed. It was a short conversation.

It made me feel guilty.. but also, anytime his mom mentioned it - JD looked at me with this expression that I cannot even describe. He wanted to laugh.. and I wanted him to instigate this moment of truth confession extravaganza. He never did either.

Finally, this year (I KNOW... almost three years later) we were sitting down at Mimi's Cafe having brunch - and the subject comes up. Again.

I look at my husband. I knew it was time.

I took a deep breath.

It all came spilling out... the whole thing. I was almost in tears - which I'm sure seems ridiculous. My Father-in-law was the first to laugh (thank goodness) and eventually we all laughed. She revisits all the moments I've turned down playing the piano for her.. and it all comes together. She doesn't know when she got the idea that I had such talents... but she really believed that I told her.. and maybe I did.. on one very blurry, post-op day.