I went to a client's today to drop off a key fob. I've been trying not to drive very much as of late, given the price of gas and, well, the seriously NOT fuel efficient nature of my vehicle. Eight cylinders will do that to you, I think. (But, oh, boy, is that car fun to drive!)

On my way to the client's, I stopped by to pick up lunch. Two birds, one stone, that sort of thing. On my way down El Camino, however, I was nearly in an accident, as another driver wasn't paying attention and nearly sideswiped my car. I noticed, after my heart stopped thumping loudly in my chest, that I had accelerated out of danger.

That's very much my way of avoiding danger in my car: I accelerate away from it. Kris is very much the opposite: he brakes hard to avoid an accident. I think the difference comes from either learning to drive (essentially, for the most part, and certainly during the formative years) in Los Angeles, and my motorcycle riding training. The instructor in the CC Riders Foundation class explicitly told us, as motorcycle riders, braking hard was going to put us more in harms way than accelerating away, so accelerate away from the danger.

He also told us that you can't always enforce your right of way on a bike. John Schmidt explained it as, "In a car, when you drive, you're in danger of killing everyone else. On a motorcycle, with everyone else in a car, you're in danger of killing yourself."

Yet, this right of way is something I'm particularly likely to enforce if it's mine. If it's my turn to go at a four-way stop, I go. If I'm in a lane that's merging, your lane goes, my lane goes, your lane goes, my lane goes: it's called zippering and we alternate who goes next. If you don't alternate, I won't let you in. If the light has turned green, I'll start driving forward into the intersection, even if you think it's okay to run that red stoplight and blast through that intersection. Yes, it's my responsibility to avoid an accident, and I certainly will do everything I can, but I will enforce my right of way.

This also means giving right-of-way when it's not mine. If you have your turn signal on and it's gone more than two blinks, and you're trying to get into my lane, I'm going to let you. This assumes, of course, that you haven't been an asshole and deliberately PASSED me, instead of merging behind me in the half mile of OPEN LANE behind me. Then, I won't, because you're a dick and you DON'T have right of way at that point. Asshole.

So, I was pondering this whole driving thing on the drive back from the clients, wondering why giving up right-of-way, when it's not yours, is so difficult.

As I was pondering this, I merged onto the 101 heading north. As I began my merge, I looked to see what cars were approaching. One car was in the lane I was going to merge into, but far enough back, going slowly enough, that a normal acceleration was fine. I didn't have to gun the engine to merge safely. Great. I accelerated like a normal person.

As the dotted line on the freeway ended, and my lane started to angle over into the slow lane on the freeway, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye to the left.

Turns out, the driver in the car I had seen back in the lane didn't like the idea of my merging in front of him, even though I was going 65 by the time I began the merge. No, he didn't like that idea one bit, and decided that accelerating hard to be in front of me was the best choice.

Now, how in the hell he thought this was a good idea, I have no clue. He could have continued his previous speed, and I would have merged in front of him, and moved over one lane, as the slow lane because an exit-only lane a half mile up. He could have continued unabated, without wasting gas on the idiotic acceleration he had just done.

Instead, all he had managed to do was 1. catch up to the car in the second lane, 2. catch up to me in the merge lane, 3. not pass either of us, and 4. put all of us in danger with his decision.

I dropped two gears, jammed on the gas, and accelerated away from the accident-waiting-to-happen.

But not without a lot of heart-thumping. And a lot of annoyance.

I probably lost 2-3 miles of gas accelerating away from the moron who wanted the right-of-way, when it wasn't his to have.

AND I was even trying to drive calmly that day.

See what I get for my trouble?

Hot damn!

I've been invited to post in a group blog! I've never been invited to post in a group blog before. No, wait, that's not quite true. Mom and I have tried the blogging thing in 2002. That one didn't work out so well.

We tried again this year, but we pretty much suck at that one, too. I think we'll pick that one up again once I have rereuse.com up and going and have the "post about this" functionality working. Maybe.

Still, with two failed attempts at group blogging (but one seriously good success at solo blogging), I'm optimistic with the new group blog. Especially since the other people blogging are also posting regulars on their own blogs.

Yes, I'm very excited about this venture: Mischief's team blog, More Fist Pumping!

I miss Kris.

Is it really possible to miss someone you live with, are married to, this much?

I mean, I wake up next to him in the morning. I kiss him good morning in the morning. I kiss him good bye as he leaves for work. I kiss him hello when he returns from work. And! I kiss him good night before the first of us goes to bed in the morning.

Yet, that seems to be the limit of our interaction as of late.

He doesn't do his half (1/3?) of the chores any longer. He doesn't walk the dogs any longer. He doesn't put away the dishes or fold the laundry, or even put away his clothes that I've folded.

He plays World of Warcraft. And that's it.

Oh, no, wait, he goes to work (where I don't see him). He goes to Velocity with me (when I go).

God, I cannot explain how much I miss him. It's like his body is here, somewhere, but I'm alone.

I haven't been this alone in over ten years.

I hate that game.

Heather and Andy (Fisher) stayed over at our house last night. Andy mentioned he had woken up at 3:00 AM to drive up from Santa Barbara for the tournament, so he was happy to go to bed early last night. Heather played hard and had also been up early, though not as early as Andy, so was also willing to go to bed early.

We arrived home later than desired after the great food and fun at Lyndsay's house, so both Heather and Andy were motivated to change the sheets on the guest room beds and go to sleep. As I pulled the trundle bed out from under the main bed, I noticed a book on the floor. Realizing it was pink, I reached down and pulled it out. A Barbie book! I recognized it as Gaby's from her February visit.

I chuckled, and looked again under the bed.

Oooof, lots of dog hair. Not good for a dog-free room.

Oh, wait, another book. I pulled that one out. It was another one of Gaby's. Boy, that kid must be sad, I thought.

I looked under again, and saw that something was off under the bed. I couldn't quite place what was wrong, but something was. I kept looking in the back corner under the bed, and realized that either something was under the bed, or the delivery guys didn't take all the packing materials with them. I left the room for a moment and came back with a broom.

Using the handle, I fished out what was in the back corner, under the bed.

A baby bottle.

Full of rotten, moldy, spoiled, fermented, chunky milk.

Now, I'm not 100% sure here, but I don't think Gaby was still drinking from a baby bottle. However, the other alternative was that it was Jake's bottle.

From last July.

I'm not sure which frightens me more.

Yeah, so, that tightrope of nylon webbing/straps... some of Mischief were more brave than others. In particular, Doyle and Mark.

And maybe Andy.

I know Shirley tried, too, but I don't have any pictures of her attempts. Being the lightest of those who attempted to walk the tightrope, Shirley appeared the most graceful of the bunch.

I'm just glad that no one fell off and hit the 2' rock that was only a meter from the rope/webbing/strap.