Let Them Feel Quakes

There I was, sitting at my desk, feeling the sharp glint of the computer screen piercing my eyes like a toothpick in fresh baked brownies and trying to ignore the dull ache in my hand veins that was perpetually growing- all in all, it was a pretty normal day. So normal. Too normal.

I was about to turn my head to see who was messing with the blinds next to me, when it suddenly got even louder. Before I even had the chance to comment, my computer screen began to shiver and my cubicle started vibrating.

I quickly glanced over to my coworkers and we all began exchanging looks and questions.

“Do you feel that?”

“What the hell…?”

“Is that an earthquake?”

As quickly as we had asked the questions, the rumbling stopped dead. It was then that I decided to spring to my feet and held a pose like Marcel Marceau holding an imaginary giant ball.

“Shouldn’t we head for a doorway?” I squeaked.

Though we had no idea for sure, we felt fairly certain we were in no immediate danger of the building collapsing. Still, everyone was still tense and nervous, waiting for a second round of shaking.

I looked out the window and noticed a small collection of people milling about outside the building. Even farther away I saw an even bigger crowd of people who had moved a considerable distance away from their offices.

My fellow fremps began frantically calling their loved ones. Ironically, of all days, my phone had slipped away from me and was being held by the kind Samaritan who had found it. As I discovered from my coworkers’ several attempts, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The cell service was immediately clogged so calls weren’t able to get through.

Instead I hit the Refresh button on my computer every 5 seconds trying to see if there was a report up about what happened. On about the 11th time we finally began getting some details.

An earthquake had hit the east coast, an incredible rarity, centered in Virginia and spread upwards towards New England and downwards well past the Mason Dixon line. It was pretty crazy. And certainly scary. But it was actually kinda cool in a messed up way, too. Here I was, thinking that I was going to have just another Tuesday, hoping the time would pass quickly, when something that may never happen again in my lifetime was suddenly foisted into my lap. Life is truly unexpected that way; and that’s pretty cool. I just hope the next time something like that happens I react in a way that is just as cool- rather than impersonating a dead French striped shirt-wearing mime from the 1940s.

The Shift Continues...

...So we made it to Joe's parents' house, and though we had a great weekend, my mind and stomach were in knots, fearing the moment we would have to, once again, get behind the wheel.

When Sunday finally rolled in we gathered up our things (or most of them for me anyway- I was so concerned with the drive I blindly packed and ended up leaving a decent chunk of my toiletries behind- sorry again about that Mr. and Mrs. G!) and headed for our first stop to visit Joe's grandmother.

The drive was fine for a little while, although trying to keep up with Joe was a chore since my car had so little acceleration it felt like I was towing a Boston Whaler behind me.

We arrived at Joe's grandmother's for a visit, and because they could sense my frustration, Dylan and Joe agreed that Dylan would take over driving my car so I could just relax in the passenger seat. I tried to, but even with Dylan's smooth confident handling, I still became a wreck.

We left Joe's grandma's just in time to hit a wall of torrential rain. After I had nearly nibbled my fingertips to the bone and we had gotten clear of the storm, we had a brief respite. I was actually beginning to enjoy the ride when all of a sudden the jerking and surging that we had experienced on the way up returned, and with a vengeance. It continued for the remainder of the drive, and while we wondered if it was safe to continue driving suddenly the “check engine” light lit up.

Once again my anxiety returned, waiting for the car to veer into a guardrail or start smoking. Dylan, being more reasonable, phoned his friend who works on cars to ask him about our situation.

“Yeah, dude, her car is doing this massive acceleration and up shifting-thing, and then it downshifts just as violently, especially when I take my foot off the gas. And the check engine light just went on. Should we be concerned?” he asked, calmly.

Essentially his friend explained that as long as the car was still running, and since we were getting close to home, we ought to just keep going.

With Dylan managing the steering wheel like an expert cowboy on a fussy mustang, and me fretting like an old Southern belle stereotype, we finally managed to roll into Maryland and, at last, right in front of our house.

Sure, I was still freaking out about what the cost would be to repair whatever the hell was wrong with my car (later on I was informed it had something to do with the throttle control and a bad part that was telling the car to accelerate and decelerate a lot faster than it was supposed to), but I was so grateful we had made it home safe I was thanking the car gods all night. And Dylan, too.

Whiney Wednesday

Despite the fact that I had a fairly good day, I still feel like bitching a little bit. Not over anything big, but maybe you can relate to some of these little annoyances...

1.) My toenail keeps snagging the inside of my sock, even though I gave myself a pedicure less than a week ago! It's probably not even the nail, it's probably some dry skin. And speaking of gross...

2.) I have a scab on the inside of my nose that is so annoying and SO painful. Yet my nose keeps running, so I blow my nose, and then I see blood. How does my nose run AND be super dry at the same time!?!? It doesn't make sense. It's this weather...and speaking of weather.

3.) I know everyone says "March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb", but I always sorta thought that had something to do with it just being rainy and then sunny, not temptingly warm and blissful and then bitter cold. The high tomorrow is going to 38...38! In March!! Ugh, get warm already...my spring clothes are waiting.

4.) (Enough of the chain segues..) There is a woman who walks to work everyday and I always pass her when I'm driving. I used to do the polite head nod and smile but I have a weird history with this woman.

Back in the summer when we first moved in she had befriended me and often chatted about dog-related stuff. One day she mentioned how she thought her dogs and Georgia should have a play date (and if you heard this story already feel free to move on), and when I agreed I was immediately regretting my decision. Her one dog snapped at the other so bad it's ear began to bleed.

I was trying to suggest another time but she seemed determined and eventually just dropped both dogs into the yard. I was still tense but they played ok (if not a little rough and bullish). Anyway, they stayed for a while until finally she left and Joe and I agreed never to allow her over again.

Since then I still see her walking by but I am so terrified of another "play date" I thought it best just to cut that friendship off, so I try to find ways to avoid eye contact. Sometimes I just NEED to change the radio station at that exact moment, other times I need to reach for my phone for some reason, and still other times I just make a dazed or concerned face, pretending to ponder over life's mysteries or just trying to really really concentrate on driving.

Anyway, those are my current annoyances, but other than that, life's not too bad. How bout you? Leave a comment, won't we?

Steer Unclear

Merry Yuletide everyone. Hope everyone got a nice haul of gifts and the gifts they gave were big successes. That is probably the worst part of Christmas: the anxiety that your gifts will either 1.) not measure up to the gifts the recipient gives you 2.) will not be liked by the recipient. Thankfully as far as I know my gifts were well-received and relatively equivalent (whew! Another year down).

But after that anxiety wore off, I was faced with a kind I had not expected- the fear of trying to get home. Allow me to jump back...

Saturday night, Christmas night, my family was settling in for the night, allowing our full bellies to digest while discussing the days' events. When the novelty of that wore off we eventually came around to talking about when both Hill and I would depart for our other homes; Brooklyn and Baltimore, respectively. I mentioned how I was planning on leaving Monday, and my mother mentioned how a snow storm was heading our way on Sunday. I brushed it off as just a mother's worries and her attempt at trying to talk me into staying longer. I would soon be brushing off alot more than her worries.

Sunday came and the day looked a bit overcast, but nothing serious. I had plans to meet up with an old friend and just as I was getting ready, I noticed the skies had opened up and brought down thick fluffy snow. It had started small only briefly, but before I knew it, the ground was covered. Still I brushed off what was on my car and took off for the restaurant.

Now as I'm pretty sure I've established, I'm not the best with directions, even in places I've been too. I know the area my parents live in PRETTY well, so even if I got a little turned around I figured I'd be able to find my way. I am driving along Route 18, a fairly common and well-used highway and notice the snow is getting thicker and slicker. Cars in front of me are driving extra cautiously, barely going much over 35 mph. I glance over to the other side of the highway and spot several bright flashing lights indicating an accident. My stomach, for the first time (but certainly not the last) lurches into my feet, and I begin to doubt my decision to drive anywhere.

I decide to follow the traffic and get off at the first exit, which I am relieved to find leads me to the area I wanted to be in anyway. The roads are getting even more thickly coated with snow and as I pull up to make a right onto another busy highway, I lose control of my car and it begins to slide. I hold my breath but fortunately the traffic is approaching at a snail's speed, and everyone seems to be paying extra attention due to the conditions. I regain control but not my breath. I am genuinely freaked now, and just when I thought it couldn't get worse, my gas light goes off. Again, fortune is smiling because I am very close to a number of gas stations. I pull up to the nearest one, wait as my car shimmies again, and then gently pull up. There is a line of cars leading out to where I am in the highway, but I stay put and wait my turn.

I awkwardly text my friend that I will be unable to make it, and suggest she either get on the road immediately or else wait till tomorrow. When that is said and done, and I have my gas, I decide to simply go home. I begin to follow the traffic once again, but the roads are getting worse and worse, not to mention the complete white-out in front of me. I find the way I need to go has not been touched by plow or tires and so I choose instead to follow the roads more travelled. I soon find myself hopelessly lost in an area I am unfamiliar with. Every turn I make leads to either a detour or a completely snow-covered road. Bridges are closed. Highways are blocked. I lose control of my car one more time (on a bridge) and for a single brief moment I contemplate abandoning my car and hope someone in my family can pick me up. Instead I take few breaths and carefully follow whatever rear lights I can and purposely keep my car at a steady 15-20 miles per hour. At long last, my patience and care pay off as through the thick white curtain of snow I finally recognize my parents' neighborhood and bring my slippery car home.

It will forever be one of the scariest drives of my life.

Have a similar story? Experience some hellish driving conditions? Feel free to post them here for everyone's reading pleasure.

Cold Feet...and Hands

Boy, do I feel in a mood. I really shouldn't be: I have a nice little place to live, a semi-well-behaved dog, a good paying job, dear friends, and a great guy.

The thing is- I always get depressed more easily in the cold months. Shocker, I know everyone kinda does. But I have always categorized myself as a summer baby and in the winter I tend to emotionally and physically go into hibernation.

I also tend to get more annoyed, and this year is no exception. Every little thing tends to piss me off or frustrate me: I don't know what to do with my life, I never have enough money, I hope people like me, etc. Of these things I like to think I have little control so instead I focus on the single most-annoying/frustrating thing about this time of year- keeping my hands and feet warm.

There is nothing as aggravating as trying to keep your appendages warm, and for me, it's a constant battle. In fact, when I used to watch television shows or movies and people go running around outside with no shoes on or gloves, I used to think, "I don't care how happy and playful they are, that could never happen. My hands hurt just LOOKING at this." Sometimes my mother would look at my hands and say, "Your fingernails are blue!" My corpse hands, I'd call them.

And this is my main argument against people who LIKE the cold: when you have a chill that reaches down to your bones, there isn't a shower or mug of cocoa that can relieve you. At work, there is no exception.

My office is pretty much cold all year long, which sucks for me, because I can get cold with a hair dryer blowing down my neck in. So, over the past few months I've found methods to deal with it...

1.) Legs or feet under: I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before, but I've had to tuck my hands under my legs so many times, I swear I'm about to get a backwards Levi's logo embedded into them. When I can barely type it's a pretty quick problem solver, except that the effect wears of quickly and I'm left with cold legs and stiff fingers.

2.) Sneaking for the sink: I will spend the extra minute or two washing out a coffee mug or being extra sanitary scrubbing my hands if it means longer time to scald my hands in the hot water. The problem here is that a.) the sinks in the bathroom rarely have the necessary heat to blast through my frigid hands and b.) usually someone is waiting for the sink in the kitchen so I have to cut my thaw short.

3.) Hot coffee: I am starting to think the main reason I began drinking coffee consistently was due to the wonderful feeling of heat between my hands. Also nice: the feeling of feeling returning to my digits. The problem: it's usually too hot to handle right away anyway so you have to wait before you can comfortably grip the thing and when it does cool down enough it's a race against time before it turns to sludge. Bad also: you can only warm one side at a time. Drag.

If anyone out there has any other tips to beat the cold at work, send em as comments here or on facebook. Gonna hit the bed for now, see yall tomorrow.

Hear U.S.

What a miserably rainy day. I hate when it rains, especially when I have to drive. Walking to my car I try to keep my head down so that no pesky raindrops fall on my glasses, so I don't have to sit in the car and scrub them until they are somewhat clear. But taking them off doesn't help either, since then I have to be careful how I grab them out of my pocket and not end up with greasy finger smudges that take even LONGER to scrub off.

Also, I hate the sound my windshield wipers make. Hearing that screeeeching sound with every swipe sets my teeth on edge. Plus I am always afraid my car is going to hit a wet patch and send me careening into someone's house. And it must not just be me who gets frustrated driving in the rain, because there are literally thousands of Marylanders trying to maneuver every time; usually around OTHER Marylanders who are just plain petrified of any kind of accumulation on the roads, that they drive like Miss Daisy. Oh wait, she didn't drive. Well, if she DID drive, I bet she'd drive like that. But anyway.

Speaking of teeth (remember a few seconds ago?), I was brushing my teeth the other day with what said "Crest" on the tube, but I have a feeling it was mislabeled. I applied the paste to my teeth, immediately getting my old familiar pangs of sensitivity pain, and wondered if someone had replaced it with pure cane sugar. I actually had to suck on my toothbrush for a second.

I looked at the packaging. It's supposed to be that special enamel kind, a good two or three bucks MORE than I would normally spend on toothpaste. I bought it because it said it was supposed to help rebuild enamel AND help sensitivity, along with a whole bunch of other benefits. But if this was supposed to be made to help sensitivity, I'd do better to just brush with chocolate syrup.

It started to get me annoyed. Why is it so much to ask these asshole CEOs to put out a product that actually does what it says- without all the b.s. I wouldn't care about spending the extra money if it actually worked. I then got a great brainstorm for another great television show...

See, it would be like a forum where the head executives responsible for the most used home and health products sat around and are asked actual question by a big studio audience consisting of common folk. Then they'd have to listen to what we have to say, and even better, explain to us why this product works or doesn't. Hell, if two execs actually represent competing products we could pit one against the other, egging on the loser to improve his/her item. That way these people can't hide behind their lobbyists or p.r. people. They would actually have to take their own defective medicine, so to speak. I even thought of some possible titles for the show: "Hear U.S. (like "hear us") or maybe "The Consume/Hear Report". Something with the word "hear" would be good, makes it sound more positive than just "Angry Americans Bitch Out to Overpaid Businesspeople About Their Crappy Products."

Maybe I should pitch it to CNN...oh well, just a thought. And here's another one: I'm tired. And the smell of our over-ripe garbage is making me woozy so think I'll head up to bed. Night, campers.

A Fool in the Rain

Just thought I'd share my morning today and leave you with a sad pathetic image.

So as I've been mentioning, we've been having frequent accidents with Georgia. Often it is because of our own faults; the door to the backyard was shut or I made the mistake of running upstairs for a brief moment when I knew she had to go (only to come back and find a nice big Tootsie Roll on the hardwood floor). Since then Joe and I have been trying to be like hawks whenever she's alone with us and she starts sniffing.

Luckily, we're starting to get her morning routine down. She wakes us up around 6:30, Joe attempts to get her to go downstairs with him but the damn dog only wants ME to do it (when all I want is to sleep until my g.d. alarm goes off at 7:10), I escort her to the door, she trots out and pees, comes back for the food I put in her bowl, and not more than 10 mins. later she goes #2. This morning was to be no exception.

The crack of lightning this morning woke us all up. Joe, once again tried to encourage her out but that little brown thing kept hopping up near our bed to see me. Terrified she was going to piss all over the floor I finally hopped out of bed in my summer pjs (consisting of a small tank top and short shorts) and hurried her to the door. It took a little coaxing but she finally got the urge and went outside to pee. Meanwhile, I'm standing by the door in my skimpy pjs trying to avoid the gaze of my neighbors.

She jumps back inside and eats. I wait until she is done and then, again, gesture her out the door. She sits and stares at me. I keep waving my arm out the door, even tossing a treat out to get her to go, but still that butt stays on the kitchen floor.

I should mention too, at this point it is starting to drizzle, but I don't care. I keep standing there trying to get her to go out.

When she still doesn't get it, I tell Joe to watch her so I can put on actual shorts and walk her around the backyard.

As soon as my flip-flops hit the grass, the skies open up. Georgia finally follows me, and thinking its playtime, starts giddily dashing to and fro around the yard.

There I was, getting pissed on by big gobs of rain, wearing a little tank top and shorts, thunder and lightning drama occurring right over my head, and a dog leaping and bounding away without a care in the world.

I stood alone in my yard, arms crossed over me, waiting for my damn dog to crap so I could get the hell back inside.

When it finally looked like it wasn't going to happen, I said "eff it" and I stomped back inside. Thankfully Joe took her for a walk (bundled up in a hooded sweatshirt) and she finally did her business.

But as I was standing out there I noticed a guy jog right by our house. I kept thinking, who the hell else would be out here in the rain at god damn 6:45 in the morning? It made me think about a woman Ashley and I met once at a Starbucks who, upon hearing us talk about our fears of losing our bodies when we got older, said, "My trick is to go to the gym everyday before work. And don't give yourself the option to skip."

She walked out and we noticed she did have a great figure for a woman who had four kids, but still. I give alot of credit to people who have that kind of discipline to force themselves up at the crack of dawn to work out, but I think it's not terribly practical for most working people. But who knows? That guy could just be the really smart one and have it so ingrained in his schedule that he doesn't mind it. He's getting the health benefits and good body that goes along with such rigid discipline.

Meanwhile, I'm just the half-naked chick standing in her yard, looking like she's waiting for the mother ship to land. Who's really got it right here?

Writers on the Storm

Jeez, I think I just about jumped out of my skin just now. I had just gotten in the shower when I noticed some flashes of light outside my bathroom window. I had heard a storm was coming but had no idea when. Of course it figures it would come on just as I'm stepping into the shower. Plus, bonus fun- Joe left for rehearsal so I'd be there alone scrambling to keep the dog (and myself) calm while fumbling for the fuse box in a towel if the power went out. Thankfully, I managed to get in and out before such a thing happened.

Then I came downstairs to see if Georgia needed to run out really quick, since the storm didn't seem too threatening just yet. All of a sudden, we both see a bright snap of light followed immediately by the loudest crack of thunder. Both me and the dog took a giant jump back, looking at each other. Georgia barked back at the thunder and I tried to keep the towel on my head from slipping while calming her down.

Truthfully, I do love storms, yet I am also somewhat afraid. I remember as a kid whenever one would come on I would always listen but as soon as it got a few decibels too high for me, I'd run right into my parents room. I realize even now as an adult I tend towards the same behaviors. Back at our old apartment we had a balcony that usually had a pretty good view of any storms that were approaching. One day as I was driving home I looked up and noticed the dark clouds making their way overhead. It had been an oddly warm day for a week of mostly chilly days, so I knew it was going to be a doozie. I decided to drop my stuff inside and grabbed one of our lawn chairs that we used as outdoor furniture and settled in for a good show. It was pretty uneventful at first, just a flash here and rumble there. Suddenly, with little warning, the flashes got brighter and the cracks got louder. Before I knew it I was surrounded by the drama of Mother Nature. I tried to keep my fears down, telling myself it was a bit unlikely I'd be struck or anything bad would happen to me sitting out there. But eventually, as the wind picked up and the rain began whipping around me, I figured I'd see all the show I was going to. Up close and personal, anyway.

I'm the same way with the ocean. I love going to the beach, even occasionally dipping my toes in. But I very very rarely actually go in. Probably because I've been tumbled and toppled by the ocean enough times to know it can be scary and intimidating. You so easily lose what little control you already have. I recall another time playing in the ocean with my siblings and cousins. They began riding the waves with their bodies into the beach. Wanting to be included, and not wanting to appear like a wuss, I joined them. It was going fine until I paused to catch my foot beneath a wave and then BAM! A wave came from no where and swallowed me up for a good 2 seconds. I remember that burning feeling as salt water rushed into my mouth and scalded my nose and throat, leaving me to wheeze and cough for the next 20 mins. To this day, I will only venture into the water if it's flat as a lake and with a gentle current. And since that rarely is the case on the Jersey Shore, I'm usually content for the sporadic ocean spray or dipped toes.

Like I said, I think it's the absolute loss of control that is both fascinating and terrifying about nature. You can only do so much to prepare but in the end the only certainty is the uncertainty...maybe that's why the meteorologists call them "predictions" as opposed to "facts". Many of them dodge the bullet when people get pissed off at their incorrect reports. They must think, "I know I said that we would have sun, but we got rain instead. What do you want from me, it's not like the weather and I are in cahoots."

Oh well, anyway, judging by Georgia's sleeping on the couch, I'm guessing the storm is passing. Good thing too. I got some ice cream waiting for me. Goodnight for now beloved readers!