I kicked off the busiest two weeks of my semester by wrecking my car. It's just funny how things work out sometimes, huh?
It was October 18 and I was taking Beth Gager home after lunch with some people after church. I rear-ended a truck in a right turn merge lane thing that I thought was merging but then stopped again. So I just have to say here that while I was the one rear-ending, and the one who walked away with a ticket for careless driving, it was not totally my fault.
The whole front of my car was basically indented. We were picking up pieces of my car from the road. The Gagers responded to the scene to help, and Mr. Gager informed me that I could not drive it. So then came the cops and the tow truck and there went my car.
But not forever. Just a long time. I won't get it back until November 19. That's a full month after the accident. So life has just been crazy to figure out without a car. People like the Gagers and Wysockis and my roommate Raychel have been great and let me use their cars, and that has been super helpful. I will make it.
And what's that statistic about most accidents occurring near your home? Yeah, I was 1 mile from mine.
I wish cars healed like bodies. And like if it's majorly broken, you rush it in to get fixed. Isn't it crazy how human bodies heal themselves? I love that. Good work God.
Speaking of cars, remember when I drove a red '91 Honda Prelude? Oh man. I loved that car. It looked like this, I think:
Boys in high school thought I was so cool for having that car. Thanks Gar-man, for one of many passed-on vehicles. The '86 Toyota Corolla (lovingly known as Cherry), the Prelude, and now my poor broken Passat, which I still like to refer to as the Gar-man mobile. I believe it received that name when he let me, Justin, Emjo and Katie Dennis drive it to DCC.
Well since this doesn't have any legit pics, here's one of Sophie all dressed up for homecoming, Angie dressed all stylish like she usually is, and me in my gym shorts. Typical.
I love my sisters.
So you know what's wierd? Trick or treating. This year was the first year that I gave out candy all by myself from my house, so it got me thinking about this whole idea. I mean when else is it acceptable to walk up to strangers' houses and ask them to give you candy? And then even weirder, everyone goes and buys candy to give out to strangers that come to your door.
I got a lot of trick-or-treaters while I was stuck at home writing my paper, and it was so fun. I loved giving candy to the cute little kids in Halloween costumes. NOT cute when they were like high schoolers though, I got a couple of those. I actually ran out of candy at 7:30 and had to turn off my porch light and stuff. But anyway, it was just weird to open the door to group after group, having no idea who they were, but handing them candy. And then all the parents thank you, which is cute and all, but I wanted to be like, by the way, who are you? I mean not to mention the even weirder part of all of this being that the kids are all in costume. Speaking of weird costumes...
Thanks for that throwback pic on the facebook Mel. Man we were cute. And here's the thing. We would walk up and down Rochdale, and we knew almost everyone we got candy from. Granted, my dad is one of the friendliest people in the United States, but still, I just think times have changed a little. I don't really know any of my neighbors, mostly because I'm scared to tell them all that we're a house of four girls, but also because I feel like people don't care as much anymore.
There's just no place like Rochdale.
I'm gonna leave it at that so that I can get back to the most productive Saturday night of '09. I've cleaned (and vacuumed!) my room, hung a picture on the wall, bought a wedding present, figured out my schedule for next year, and updated the tate-blog. Holler.
Five days until I get to be back in the great state of Kansas! Not to mention two weeks and I will be in HAWAII!!!! Ahhh!!!!
Blown out tire. Thank goodness for Joe Kingry.
I am still reveling in its glory. I don't even know if that sentence makes sense.
