Wrangler Worries

So for Christmas I only asked from one thing: a cherry red Jeep Wrangler. I've been asking for one for two whole years and every time I see a Wrangler drive by, I would basically drool over the steering wheel. But much to my dismay, Christmas morning came without a new vehicle in the driveway.

But I am hopeful for my birthday, which is in fifteen days. It's the big ONE EIGHT (18) so maybe my parents will make an effort. I told them that I would help pay for it with the work money I have earned so far, so it's not like they would buy it all by themselves. Also, I like the older Jeep models before 2007, where the body was narrower and they don't cost as much.

As I previously said, I have a 2006 Cherokee, so I'm used to the Jeep style and make. I work at the beach in the summer and I always drive with the windows down, so a Wrangler would be just perfection. Plus, the beach is populated with Wranglers, so it would be torture if I didn't get one and had to work in the summer again.

But what exactly is the protocol for buying a new car for your kid? Am I doing something wrong? Do I have to like make a contract or something with my parents? I mean, I've been wanting this Wrangler for two years, and it still hasn't happened, and I've shown my mom all the Wranglers within our price range, but my parents still haven't committed. I certainly have.

And the thing that really peeves me, is here at my school, there are so many big four door Wranglers that parents have just bought for the kids once they ask for them. I know, I have to be patient, but I've offered to pay for as much as I can and don't even want a new one like everyone else. So hopefully, by the end of the month, a Wrangler will be sittin in the driveway.

Winter: Not a Driver's Favorite Season

It's that time. Winter Time.

For us drivers, it might possibly mean waking up fifteen minutes early to heat up our cars in hopes of obliterating the inches of frost on the windshield and wind and getting the fannywarmers (as my mom would call them) nice and toasty for our cold butts to defrost upon.

 Or, for the rest of us, it means waking up normal time and freezing our butt off trying to see out of an opaque white windshield.

Either way, we're all cold and this. weather. needs. to. go.

Pulling in this morning I hit a tiny, tiny patch of black ice that made my front tire just jolt very slightly. But that black ice can be very deceiving. Last winter, I was innocently going around a curve and hit a patch of black ice only just to end up flying into some very firm bushes that left quite a large dent in the side of my Jeep. Right when I hit the ice, I knew I was doomed to hit those bushes. I feel that in those situations, one feels completely out of control, and is unable to prevent the wreck. Unfortunately, I had to pay for half of it.

Another aspect of this season: Holiday spirit. I have yet to recognize any friendly holiday cheer on the roads, except for the reindeer antlers stuck tucked into windows and bows on the front grill of cars. Vehicles look so festive on the road, and certainly makes the driving experience more pleasurable, if not distracting.

What is something I absolutely detest the most? It has to be the holiday parking and shopping centers. Stats say that more and more people are buying online this year, but according to the lack of  parking spots, I don't think so. I had to unfortunately park alongside some of the small curbs to my mall visits, risking possible dents due to stressed-out shoppers.

So everyone - drive safe and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

TRAFFIC.

Yeah, that's right, the big bad T word. We all hate it. It hates us. It's a mutual relationship.

This morning especially, traffic was the worst. I arrived to school fifteen minutes late along with about twenty other upperclassman, and I'm usually the one fifteen minutes early.

Here on the good ol' eastern shore, we have a little special something called The Bay Bridge. The bridge is about 4.5 miles long and extends over the Chesapeake Bay. This morning especially, traffic was backed up twenty minutes, when usually it takes four minutes to cross over the structure.

What could possibly be worst than sitting in traffic?  In the rain. In the fog. And fifteen minutes late to school. Now usually there are multiple culprits of backed up cars and red brake lights. One of the most frequent is car accidents. This particular morning, there was white Jeep Cherokee that ran into one of the guard rails and had hopped onto the median strip - one of my worst fears when driving. It always seems as those those guard rails are a bit to close to the shoulder - also waiting to be run into.  I said a silent prayer for the driver in the smashed Jeep, hoping that the driver was ok.

My personal favorite culprit of traffic is weather. Because we live so close to the watershed, there are lots and lots of bridges. As previously stated, the Bay Bridge influences greatly by weather. In addition, the Severn River Bridge also is victim to weather. Traffic can be backed up for millleeeessss on Route 50 just because the people slow down right before they go over the bridge. It can be simply be drizzling very slightly, and still people still almost come to a complete halt before they cross the bridge, which is just completely unnecessary. It's just a bridge guys. Get over yourselves and cross it.

So there, that's my rant on traffic. Hope you have a wonderful, traffic-free day!

The Guessing Game

The lax mom. The treehugger. The democrat. The republican. The war veteran. The student. The grandpa. Let's face it: we all play that game where we guess who is driving in front of us. Well, at least I do. It's fun, and not to toot my own horn, but most of the time I'm spot on.

What determines the final conclusion in my book? Car color, style, brand, stickers, magnets, license plate, and overall driving skill (just to name a few). So based upon these characteristics, I can somewhat accurately pinpoint the driver.

So, let's practice.

I'll start with my vehicle of choice: Goldish Jeep Cherokee, Ocean City sticker, Virginia Tech sticker, Roxy sticker, swimming and runner magnets for my school, and a 13.1 magnet.

Let's dissect the data. I drive an SUV-like vehicle, so I'm probably not very small or short. The OC sticker represents that I probably go to the beach a lot, and might have a job or place there. VT means that I might go there, or I have a relative there. Roxy means I'm definitely a girl, and is probably has a direct correlation to spending time at the beach. My high school magnets mean that I'm obviously still in high-school and am on the swim and cross country teams. Last but not least, the 13.1. Now, a lot of newbs might not how the significance of such a number. For those who don't, it is the milage of a half-marathon. Usually, a runner wouldn't put something on their vehicle that they've done only once, so it could be assumed that I've run a half-marathon more than once.

See, look at all that info. Just from the back of a car.Oh, and yeah, I drive kinda fast so I'm probably a kid.

Your turn. Yellow Subaru. Co-exist sticker. I love my cockerspaniel. License plate from Vermont. Skiing sticker. Bike rack on the roof. Obama 2012 sticker. Make love, not war.

Might I add that this Subaru is out there in the real world. And I had the pleasure of driving behind it's slow sunshine bumper the whole way home the other day. I'm not going to say my assumption of this driver, because it might be a bit offensive. I was peeved, what can I say.

Enjoy your driving and keep on guessing.

REALLY?!?

Ok, so the caraziest (ha) thing happened to me yesterday. I'm still peeved.

So here I am, driving home from swim practice, still wet and cold from the pool. I really just want to get home and get some coffee and relax. I'm in no mood for shananigans of any kind. You know that mood when sometimes you feel like you just want a teleportation device to take you straight home and not to any driving of any kind? Yeah, that's how I felt. Just add in a heap of homework and hours of exhaustion.

Here I am, just starting my drive on an old single lane backroad that is rarely traveled. It's late, so I figure I'll have a pretty breezy ride home with less traffic. However, only minutes into my drive, it already goes downhill -  a blue SUV Volvo pulls right on out in front of me from a driveway. Sure, Volvo, it make SO much more sense to merge in front  of a high speed vehicle than behind it, where you can take all the time in the world to accelerate.

So she pulls out in front of me and I have to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting her silly little bumper. (I will proceed to use female pronouns throughout my blogging when the gender of the vehecile-offender is unknown, because, lets face it, women really are worse drivers - and yes, I am female myself). She seems to disregard my presence and proceeds to accelerate at the pace of a snail. After about five minutes of torture, she finally reaches the ridiculously high speed of...wait for it.... TWENTY-FIVE MILES PER HOUR. No joke. As you can imagine, at this point, I'm a bit peeved. Scratch that. ALOT peeved. I'm wet, my heat has yet to warm up, and I'm in need of some caffeine. So naturally, I proceed to ride her bumper relentlessly so my message is clearly sent.

It is.

At the end of this two lane road, it curves off at stop sign that meets a larger road with multiple lanes. Here's my chance to make up for lost time. After the Volvo turns on to the road, I'll just zoom in the other lane and proceed home. But instead of turning on to the larger road, the Volvo stops at the stop sign (naturally) and the driver side door opens (unnaturally).

So here I am thinking, "O God, what's happening? What does she want? Is something wrong with her car? But nope, none of those things are true. Instead, I look up to see a middle-aged man, very dad-like, striding over to my jeep. He signals me to roll my window down. I reluctantly do so, just an inch.

"EXCUSE ME, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE SPEED LIMIT IS?? I just want to let you know that children play along this road all the time and you need to know that you need to be more careful. And the speed limit is TWENTY FIVE."

"Ok, thank you sir".

And that was that. Just got terrorized by a middle-aged dad driving a Volvo. Felt pretty bad with a combination of mad, I must say. It was the perfect way to start of drive home.

So the next morning on my way to school, I drove along that same road, paying special attential to the speed limit. I saw that rectangular black and white sign read not 25 mph, but a whole FIFTEEN MILES PER HOUR above that. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the speed limit was FORTY, not 25, as the Volvo dad had previously mentioned. And might I add that I have never seen children frolic along that road in my four years of driving along it.

So there middle-aged-Volvo-driving-dad. Us youngings are sometimes better drivers than you give us credit for.

animals galore

Nomnomnom this grass is taystee. I love it when the grass is dewey and soft in the morning. Those wild berries last night really didn't agree with my tummy, but this velvety grass makes me feel a bit better. Oh wow those lights coming from over there look really cool. Hmm I think I'll wander on over there and see what's all the party's about. A road? Ooo this looks like a lot of fu--

BAM.



And that was probably the deer's last thoughts before it got plummeted by your new Camry. Poor deer. It seems more animals are being attacked my our motoring vehicles rather than enjoying their morning munches, especially on the windy country roads like the ones on my route to school. I leave the house bright and early and nothing sets the mood quite right than seeing a slaughtered doe lying on the double yellow line. I, like most drivers, force myself to look away as I pass the poor soul, weaving to the shoulder to make sure I wouldn't do any more damage.


...my apologies if that hits you deep... she went to deer heaven, I promise.


On a brighter note, the animals inside the car really seem to enjoy the road. I'm talking about all the pets that accompany their owners for the drive. Now I have nothing against driving with animals - my golden retriever, Libby loves a fresh spring day with the window rolled down. I'm calling out all those who think it's the cutest little thing to have their precious pet in between them and the steering wheel, front and center. I mean, really? For all I know, Princess could be the one with her paws on the wheel while you readjust your hair. (That could sure explain the swerving). But this is just plain silly, people. Princess the Poodle could end up Princess the Pancake if  all the attention that's supposed to be on the road is devoted to her fluffy tail. You'd probably end up a little to close for comfort with the car in front of you.

Not only is it a distraction for you, but it's even more of a distraction for me. As a dog-lover, I pet every dog that walks by, and if I see a dog in the driver seat, I'm, by golly, going to look. I'm going to not only look at the MOST ADORABLE DOG ever, but also look the CRAZY PERSON who would ever put a dog in their lap as they fly down the freeway.


So people, let's be smart. I know this is partially me ranting, but there is like, an entire back seat I'm sure Princess would love to lounge on. So, next time you decide to take your luvvie for a drive, think less about your desire to showcase Princess to the driving nation and more about the comfort and safety of her little fluffy self.

greetings fellow drivers.

C'mon Honda. COME. ON. You knew you were turning, just make ME know you were turning - I nearly killed myself slowing down for your eco-friendly little bumper. For heaven's sake that turn signal's there for a reason.

I, like many Americans who have these same sentiments toward our fellow drivers feel that a casual stroll down the road can turn into a stressful experience that only leaves us wanting to run that Prius off the side of the road . The turn signals, the stop signs, the speeding, the slowing, the finger.... oh and much, much more - creates agony and stress that is quite unnecessary (especially for Monday mornings).

Did I mention I'm a high school teenager? Yes, that's right. Woah there - don't leave just yet - just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm stupid and reckless when it comes to driving. Sure, I haven't a lot of years under my belt, but I sure do make up for it in driving time. Let's just say I haul some serious *ss on my trip to school every day - a total of two hours to and fro. And it's not just one road. O no no. There's roads complete with country rednecks, mall traffic, five-lane route 50 traffic.....all sorts of problems. And the best part? I have no idea which driving disaster is going to happen in the morning. Could be the fallen tree, the accident, the slow driver, the dead animal....the list goes on and on.

To add to my driving resume, I've also had the pleasure of driving in almost every time of vehicle. For starters, I learned to how to really drive in my mom's big chevy suburban, or as I like to call it -The Tank. The Tank is virtually indestructible and when driven, must also have bright flashing sign to proclaim that it has the opportunity at any time to crush any car that is in its way. I heart the Tank. Next, is my dad's truck. Just your typical chevy truck, this blue and white bad boy is great for learning how to park because it takes up so much space. Once I learned to park in this, I could park in anything. Last but not least is a little BMW. Yup, that's right folks, I've had the luxury of driving one of those nice sporty cars down the highway. Granted, it was only two times and I was terrified I was going to hurt it in some way, but it was still a luminous drive. And finally my very own ride - a Jeep Grand Cherokee (2005). It's one of those vehicles that's right in the middle - not to big, not to small. I love it dearly and can't wait until the day I can finally upgrade to a Jeep Wrangler, my dream of dreams.

SO, I've ingeniously created this blog to share, and mostly vent about, all of my driving experiences and the crazy rules of the road and the crazy people that accompany it. So sit back, enjoy, and anticipate a mouthful of honest road rants.