the danish outpost
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that's right, you twit. i'm yelling at you.


feeling kinda how a girl feels

birthday countdown: 8 days.

oh, i so very nearly lost my mind today. i had forgotten what a freakin' *treat* it is to drive thru Allston/Brighton.

see, i was headed over to my sis's old place. they were having a close-out party of sorts, as everyone is moving out after a number of years. i picked up some food for the party and a bottle of water for me, and drove on over, thru the Square, which sends me up Harvard.

getting thru the Square wasn't bad; i took a host of the usual shortcuts, which technically aren't 'short cuts' as they add distance. but it cuts down on the aggravation factor considerably, and gets me pointed the right way to turn onto the bridge without messing with lights. i was snarfing down a sandwich and enjoying the breeze, since it was cooling down a bit (all relative, as it was still in the 90s).

things started to go to hell in a handbasket when i got to the end of North Harvard and turned on ... Comm? Western? not even sure what that little stretch of road is. in any event, i went to get in the leftmost lane to take the left a few blocks up. and this maroon car started slowly veering in front of me. showed no signs whatsoever of spotting me. i did something i never do: i leaned on the horn.

i didn't just beep at him. i leaned on the horn for a good 10 or 15 seconds. i wanted to scare the crap out of him. i was bullshit that he was meandering from lane to lane. he wasn't trying to cut me off - that requires deliberate action. no, he was just drifting, right for my front end.

he got out of my way pretty quickly. i was fuming as i drove up over the hill and to the light, in the left turn only lane. MaroonBoy was in the center lane, even with me. and then he did something even more infuriating, as if that were possible. he tried to take a left! in front of my car! an illegal turn against traffic!

oh, i so blew a gasket on that one. i leaned on the horn again, and swerved thru the traffic (the advance left light had just changed), narrowly missing a few other people just to keep up with MaroonBoy.

i followed him the rest of the way down Harvard Street, talking loudly to myself, staying as close to his bumper as i safely could. 'that's right, moron. i'm right on your ass. i dare you to do something stupid again. and i have every intention of keeping you in front of me, where i can see what your moronic ass might do next!' the people in the back seat turned around to look at me in trepidation, and i kept talking. 'go ahead, stare at me. i'm you're worst nightmare.'

yes, i've become the crazy lady you never want on the road when you're out there.

and, horribly enough, the incident just reaffirmed one of my stereotypes. there's a certain kind of guy who is the worst kind of driver in this neighborhood (by which i mean the greater Boston area). this one? poster child for the group.

i wish i had a pile of bumper stickers that said 'DA'. you know the oval ones, white with black letters? they're for different countries. i want one that says DA for Dumb Ass. and i want to be able to slap it on the bumpers of idiot drivers, with impunity, to warn other people. better yet, i wish we could use license plate numbers as phone numbers, along the lines of the old system where you called the operator and asked for Linden 9830. that way, you could *call* the dumbass in front of you who just nearly sideswiped your car and bitch him out properly.

i know, i know. it's not a practical idea. but pondering that for a few minutes kept me from following him home when he took a left turn at the next light.

really, i'm not psychotic. i just have a few unresolved 'anger issues' when it comes to my fellow 'drivers'.

yesterday :: tomorrow

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