Cruising

Growing up in Wisconsin, particularly just across the border from Illinois, I was raised to scorn Illinois drivers.  It's similar to the way most children in the area hate the Vikings or the Bears, it's just something you know.  I used to listen 95.7 with Michael and CV in the mornings and they would often talk about the horrors of Illinois drivers.  They also had and acronym for them--FIBs.  I can't write what it stands for on here.  Just use your imagination.

I remember the first time I saw a bad Illinois driver in action.  It was a woman in a red car driving between the lanes of traffic.  Her car was exactly over the yellow lines in the road.  I mean, really?

Eventually, I kind of assumed that it was like my dislike of Da Bears.  Could they really be that bad?  Probably not, I was just raised to be prejudiced.  Besides, that lady was old and shouldn't have been driving in any state.

Well, friends, as a new Chicagoland resident I am here to tell you that Illinois drivers are the worst.

The. Worst.

They have the quaintest ideas about left hand turn lanes here.  Like, you can be in them, but turning left is optional.  I was waiting to turn left into a Barnes & Noble last week and so waiting (mostly) patiently.  The intersection was clear save for the person in the left turn lane kitty corner across from me on the other side of the intersection (so we would turn left past each other) as the light turned yellow.  I proceeded.  The man across from me decided that he was going to go straight through the intersection as I began to turn left.  He then looked confused, figured out why my car was heading straight for his, blew me a kiss, and sped away.

I was on my way to work a few days ago and was in a left hand turn lane that gets a green arrow.  I was the second in line.  The green arrow popped up and the car in front of me didn't roll an inch.  Now, I hate it when someone honks at me if I don't put my lead foot down the moment the light turns green, so I just waited.  For a while.  I politely tapped my horn once.  The car remained stationary.  The arrow turned yellow.  The arrow turned red.  The regular light turned green and the car slammed on the gas and beat the other two lanes of traffic through the intersection.

I had a woman honk at me today for no reason that I could figure out.  She was holding her phone with one hand and a paper with the other.  That's right folks, she was driving with her wrist.  I sure deserved that honk.

Soon I will have an Illinois license.  I'm going through the stages of grieving.

Back in the New York Groove

How does one gracefully reenter the blogging world?  Hey, world, I know you are all dying to hear what I'm doing these days, that you are all longing for my witty and poignant blog posts, so I'm back.  You're welcome!

See, weird, right?  Totally conceited, right?  And yet, here I am, assuming that someone out there cares about what I'm seeing or growing or thinking.  Welcome, friends to the era of the internet.

When I came back from Italy, I was a little weary of writing.  I did a lot of journaling and did some blogging because I wanted to remember every moment of Italian sunshine, every taste of gelato, every one of those annoying seagull cries outside of my window.  Then I came back and it felt like nothing was happening.  I got engaged, but I knew it was coming.  I started school like I have every year since I was 5.  The thing is, though, I would occasionally find myself writing blogposts in my head.  miss writing creatively.

So, feel free to join me as I complain about the weirdness of people, attempt some DIYs, and live it up in the suburbs of Chicago.