Oh, do pay attention to the highway signs if you possibly can.

Hey all. I have been rather silent on this space lately because I have moved my entire life 190 miles south and my bedroom closet is still filled with unpacked boxes. I haven't seen my hairdryer in weeks.

I'm still adjusting to life in our nation's capital. Currently the temperature is set to "surface of the sun" and I am hiding inside with the air conditioning and ice. Yesterday I accidentally got on the HOV-3 lane of 395. The fine for such behavior is $1000 (and I can see why, for my commute was cut down to, like, 5 minutes and if the fine was 20 bucks, I'd be on that thing every day.) Anyway, as soon as I realized what I'd done, I went into full-on panic mode and desperately looked for an exit, any exit, that would put me back onto the parking lot that is 395. Alas, the first exit wasn't until Pentagon City, which was my destination.

I passed other vehicles and felt the shame of their red-hot stares of anger as they saw I did not have the requisite three people in my car. I hyperventilated as I prayed not to get pulled over by the long arm of the Virginia law. I nearly passed out when a police car pulled onto the highway right next to me. I had to move over into the passing lane to make room for him! It was surely curtains for me. I rehearsed the pleas for mercy I would soon be delivering, begging him to take into account my Pennsylvania plates and just general ignorance. Miraculously, he drove on ahead of me, taking no notice of the glaring emptiness of my passenger seat, and I made it the whole way to work unnoticed. Well, at least unnoticed by anyone with the authority to fine me $1000.

Hopefully things will go more smoothly from here on out. Amanda sent me cookies, so that's a start.

A drill story

So, last weekend I went to my Dad and told him I was having trouble with my drill. It wasn't allowing me to drill starter holes and I didn't know what I was doing wrong. So my Dad was like, "Describe the item to me." And I did so, and then he was like, "Yeah, that's not a drill. That's an electric screwdriver." (Shut up, James.)

So I went to Ace (the helpful place) and I am now the owner of an actual drill. I already used it to hang a shelf and it's so much fun to use! I just want to start drilling holes in all my walls. I need to exercise some restraint or I'm going to destroy my apartment.

Quotations from a Scrabble game...

I would like to preface this by saying, in my defense, that it was incredibly late when we were playing Scrabble this past weekend.

Me: Is B-E a word?
Aunt Linda: V-E?
Me: B-E.
My mom: Like, “be”?
(pause)
Me: I am so tired!

Later…
Aunt Linda: "Is B-E a word?" Heh. My goal in life is to never say anything that stupid.
My mom: You’re setting your sights high saying it’s your goal for life. It’s your goal for tomorrow, maybe.

Oh for pity's sake, I am so dumb

I drove to the Gibsons' tonight to spend the weekend. About 30 minutes into my trip, I called their house to check what their dinner plans were. I talked to Uncle Giz. The conversation went thusly:

Me: I'll be there around 8:30. What are your dinner plans?
Giz: Where are you now?
Me: Ebensburg.
Giz: Ebensburg?
Me: Yeah, Ebensburg.
Giz: Why are you in Ebensburg?
Me: (silence, as I contemplate my stupidity)
Giz: Ebensburg? E-B-E-N-S-B-U-R-G? Ebensburg?
Me: Ummmm, yeah?
Giz: Why are you in Ebensburg?
Me: Because I am so freakin' dumb!

And then Uncle Giz had a hearty chuckle at my expense, and then he made a joke about my stupidity and involving the city of Erie, and then I hung up on him.

But wait! I'm even more stupid than you realize. I was driving up the Johnstown Expressway and I got to where the highway splits and I thought to myself, "I need to go through Windber." And then I thought to myself, "No, that's the way to Chris' house. Instead I should go through Ebensburg." As if Chris' house (in Harrisburg) is not on the way to the Gibsons'! Clearly I have some sort of brain disease.