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May. 27th, 2006 03:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeI did two things this week that I've never done before.
One of them was getting attacked by fruit flies. I fought them off with a half-brick in a sock and a case of shower gel, emerging triumphant from beneath their twitching little corpses. I am the Idi Amin of fruit flies.
The other was drive to (and from!) New York.
Interesting, to say the least. I've always been terrified of driving my car to New York. As it is, I hate driving the damn thing into Philadelphia (which I am going to be doing tomorrow night) because it's so unwieldly. But, I was on an emergency mission and taking the train can eat a bag of dicks.
Driving up was horrible because I got stuck in rush hour. And let me tell you, New Yorkers do not fuck around when it comes to rush hour. If I chased a nickel for every time someone suddenly was in my lane, I would be out of fucking breath. It was also beginning to get kind of hot, sitting in a black car in the sun in stop-and-go-no-wait-don't-go traffic. Misery.
Also? The roads in New York are fucking twisty. I've driven my car down some serious mountain roads before, which curved insanely, but these ones? No joke. And the lanes were small as hell.
The way home was a lot easier because I left rather late and there were barely any cars on the road (except formy impending doom a nitrogen tanker truck whose driver was overly fond of tapping his brake pedal. My only issue was having my head up my ass and winding up on the parkway instead of the turnpike.
A panicked phone call to Miss Janette and Scott got me out of that particular cluster-fuck, even if I was steadfastly convinced I did not go over any bridge other than the Verrazano (which I got to do the top level on my way home, which rocked).
I stopped at a rest area mid-way through my trip and bought two sugar-free Red Bulls, which I merrily guzzled down. That, however, led me to lie awake until five o'clock in the morning (I'd gotten home around three), blearily wondering what the hell was in my closet (note to self: close your goddamn closet door before going to bed next time).
Now I'm wide the fuck awake, after dozing on my living room floor for a little while after watching Wolf Creek with the Engineer and continually telling him that I was not sleeping.
Maybe if I read for a little while, I'll catch the sleeping bug.
One of them was getting attacked by fruit flies. I fought them off with a half-brick in a sock and a case of shower gel, emerging triumphant from beneath their twitching little corpses. I am the Idi Amin of fruit flies.
The other was drive to (and from!) New York.
Interesting, to say the least. I've always been terrified of driving my car to New York. As it is, I hate driving the damn thing into Philadelphia (which I am going to be doing tomorrow night) because it's so unwieldly. But, I was on an emergency mission and taking the train can eat a bag of dicks.
Driving up was horrible because I got stuck in rush hour. And let me tell you, New Yorkers do not fuck around when it comes to rush hour. If I chased a nickel for every time someone suddenly was in my lane, I would be out of fucking breath. It was also beginning to get kind of hot, sitting in a black car in the sun in stop-and-go-no-wait-don't-go traffic. Misery.
Also? The roads in New York are fucking twisty. I've driven my car down some serious mountain roads before, which curved insanely, but these ones? No joke. And the lanes were small as hell.
The way home was a lot easier because I left rather late and there were barely any cars on the road (except for
A panicked phone call to Miss Janette and Scott got me out of that particular cluster-fuck, even if I was steadfastly convinced I did not go over any bridge other than the Verrazano (which I got to do the top level on my way home, which rocked).
I stopped at a rest area mid-way through my trip and bought two sugar-free Red Bulls, which I merrily guzzled down. That, however, led me to lie awake until five o'clock in the morning (I'd gotten home around three), blearily wondering what the hell was in my closet (note to self: close your goddamn closet door before going to bed next time).
Now I'm wide the fuck awake, after dozing on my living room floor for a little while after watching Wolf Creek with the Engineer and continually telling him that I was not sleeping.
Maybe if I read for a little while, I'll catch the sleeping bug.
