Step 1 In Becoming an Agoraphobic

So, I've officially decided that I am never going anywhere unless someone else is driving me.

It's not because the drivers here...No, 'drivers' implies that there is some sort of ability to operate a motor vehicle; Rather, lets refer to the locals as Asphalt Maniacs....Or Alpha Mikes for short. I feel like I am taking my life into my hands whenever I am on the road here. Watching a Alpha Mike pass me on the left going in excess of 75 MPH, cross over to pass the car ahead of me on the right, pass two more cars on the left and then squeeze himself (herself?) in a 10 foot space in order to exit the highway. Really? Since you had to stop at a redlight the end of the offramp did you really gain THAT much time driving driving like a monkey on crank?

And although every city, state, and country has it's retard teenagers driving with cell phones....I very much enjoyed the OMG/ complete surprise/ I can't find the brake pedal of a ditzy young future organ donor with her phone plastered to her ear. Yeah, she was close enough that I could pick her out of a line up if I had to. My poor van's brake systems....Good thing they work so well.


My decision is not based completely because the lanes here have a tendency to shift in between intersections....
In every other state I've driven in, if the road is straight....So are the lanes....If the road curves the lanes follow the road....

Not here ladies and gentlemen.... Not here. Here, the roads go straight....but your driving lane has moved eight feet to your right (or left in a few places) and you find yourself in Oncoming traffic or in the suicide lane. I mean really! Monkey Cocaine Addicts could have made straighter roads than you did! And then there are wonderfully confusing places like Intersection of Reflectors. Where in an attempt to help you 'find' your lane through this Interstate 15 Highway interchange/intersection....(Don't ask me to clarify what this is any better than that cause I already spent 15 minutes trying to do so).



Intersection of Reflector Hell

It looks like it makes some sense in the picture right? Try to drive in once....or twice....and at night....

And having the right lanes disappear on you for not obvious reason only to reappear 10 feet down the road? Really?!? REALLY? Was the entire state drunk and/or high when you constructed these roads?

The main reason I no longer want to drive around is that my sense of direction is completely screwed backwards. On my cookie ingredient/hubby xmas present shopping run, I made it to Nellis BX/Commissary alright....Then got COMPLETELY lost and made every wrong turn between me and my house. We are talking EVERY intersection where I had to turn I went the wrong way. Good thing Nevada is a U-Turn State. I think I quite abused the priviledge today. So, unless someone is near death, the water is turned off...we ran out of animales cause the dogs and crabs got eaten, I will wait until my spouse is off from work to ferry me around on my errands.

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In more amusing news, Nathan has officially inherited his fathers Smart Ass gene. I suspected a few months ago during a barber shop trip but it is officially witnessed and confirmed.

I predict that I am going to be called into offices at least once or twice with this kid.

As I was clearing the dinner dishes before delivering the kids their deserts, I lean down and ask for a kiss from Nate. The little snarfer turns around quick as a whip, sticks his bum up at me and tells me to 'Kiss his Butt!'. Of course, instead of the tongue-lashing this rightfully deserves, neither Nick or I could hold in the giglles and laughter...and so the Baby Smart Ass is validated.

A few nights later (And I blame the following completely on my Hubby's influence), I'm finishing up eating while the kids are antsing around in their chairs. We have a guest over so I'm sitting next to Nick with Nathan on his other side. Nate and I make eye contact....And he smiles...Reaches over puts his hand on Nick's groin and tells me 'My Wiennie!'.

People, I don't know where he is getting this kind of stuff. But once again, I blame Nick. I think that I should move back to Nebraska and only allow the kid time with his Daddy during the hours of 9pm to 6am. That way maybe he won't get much worse.

Ah, I hate being the gender minority sometimes....