I'm Still Alive.

I'm not a good driver. I'm not a bad driver or a dangerous driver, but I am not a good driver.

Let me explain. A driver that is not good, knows they are not good, and drives defensively. Trying to harm no one, but still stinks. A BAD driver is someone who is a not good driver, that THINKS they are a good driver. And a dangerous driver is, is the worst driver of all, they are in fact, dangerous. These DANGEROUS drivers, dear reader, are who almost make me lose my Christian "self". These are the people who make me want to scream, roll down my window and throw up the "naughty" finger. But these are exactly the people, even if you were prone to such acts, that you would be afraid to do that to. Because, dear reader, these people have road rage. Now there is one more category that I have yet to talk about... and these people, are not dangerous on the road, these people are IN DANGER in my car. These are the people that are good drivers, and LOVE to tell me what a BAD driver I am. These people want to teach me, to make me a better driver... but as any "not good" driver will tell you...we've tried. Now, you're just Tickin' Me Off. And not in a good way...

When I say that I'm not a good driver, this is what I'm talking about. I hit curbs. There isn't a curb in this town I've not had the pleasure of knowing intimately. I get on the highway, and before long I'm going 85mph, and I didn't even know. I roll thru stops (especially if no one is there) and alot of times speed thru yellow lights. (Yellow means go very fast, right?) Alone, I blare my music (habits from my youth) sing loudly, and quite often dance in the car. I try not to do these things, but more often than not, I do.

Now, some people can't understand this. They think they can "teach" me to be a better driver, and only their reminding me of how bad I am will save me from hitting yet another pot hole at full force. They are dead wrong... they make my rebellious teenage side drive WORSE.

There is my mom...who actually "taught" me to drive, but is a "bad" driver herself. (Although, she thinks she's good... see, that's what makes her bad) She rarely says anything, but sighs rather loudly as I hit yet another pothole and we catch some air. (This is what seatbelts are for)
My husband, bless his little heart, absolutely CAN NOT hold his tongue when I'm driving in the car. (Which is often, because I get carsick... I even make myself carsick sometimes!) He starts out with, "Watch out for the other man" (Yes Dear) then goes to "Do you know you're going 50mph in a 55mph zone???" (So? There's a 10mph cushion, isn't there??) "brake, Brake, BRAKE CHRISTI!!" (HEEHEEHEE) and then finally, "We cannot afford another ticket!!" (And we can't, because he gets em all!) Which REALLY ticks him off. I rarely get a ticket... and not because I'm HOT and bat my eyelashes, put on some lipgloss and pull out my cleavage." I usually have the cops laughing pretty quickly. (This proves to be the best way to handle these situations... a little comedy.) I'm getting off topic... sorry. There are those too scared to say anything, that hold on to the "Oh Poop" handles with a deathgrip, rigid, stiff, eyeballs wide open, scanning side to side, wondering if my red suburban will be where they meet their end. (I take pity on these people) Then there are the cool cats... you know who you are, adrenaline junkies, who LOVE to ride in my car. They make jokes about living to see another day, they sing verses of the song "Alive" by Pearl Jam. Riding in my car reminds them of their care free days of high school and college (when everyone was a "not good" driver) sun shining down, wind blowing thru your hair, radio turned up loudly, singing as loud as your voice would allow, and doing the "cabbage patch" in your seat. These people, I love... they are "my people" so to speak. lol.

I'm trying to do better. I am a work in progress all around. AND I know that much work is needed on my driving skills. BUT, if you happen to find yourself in my red suburban or outside my red suburban on the road... try to relax, give me alittle wave and sing yourself a few bars of Pearl Jam. Otherwise, you're apt to make me prove of just how bad a driver I really am...

"oooh, I'm still alive...."
"hey, I'm still alive..."