RIP, Frankenshoe

It's 3 am (and I must be LONElyyyyyyyy), and I can't sleep. I got into the most BONEHEADED car accident earlier this evening, which was totally, 100 percent NOT my fault, and I keep reliving it and tomorrow's inevitable Day of Insurance Inconvenience in my head to the point where I had to give up on sleeping. (Yes, I know, it's 3 am, so tomorrow is actually today, but you know what I mean.) Tell me, how, when I've been going straight for the equivalent of a city block, on a flat road with no trees or other obstacles, with a car directly in front of and behind me, does someone coming out of a large, open parking lot on the right NOT SEE ME and run RIGHT THE CRUNK INTO ME?!?! Isn't the whole look both ways thing the most rudimentary basic of driving? Don't people do this anymore?

I saw her coming, had time to lean on my horn and swerve onto the curb on the other side of the road, and if Ms. Dumber-than-a-bag-of-hair had had the TINIEST of avoidance reactions, we would have missed each other. But no, she had to be wholly and utterly committed to the Stupidest Left Turn EVER, and as a result my poor, brand-new Scion XB(which I called the "Frankenshoe" because it looks like Frankenstein's shoe. I know, I'm weird.) is now sitting at a tow truck place waiting for me to wade through tons of insurance red tape to get it to a repair shop that will most likely pronounce it totaled. (Dent in the front fender, bigass dent in the passenger side front door, dent in the passenger side back door, possible slight frame damage, and my right front wheel is so tilted inward, my car is almost sitting on the hubcap.)

But the worst of it is that my two-year-old and four-month-old were THIS CLOSE to having been in the car with me. Thank goodness they weren't. The car wasn't crunched enough that they would have been hit by a caved in door or flying parts, but I can't think that that kind of jolt would have been good for their tiny bodies. Had they been in the car, I probably would have actually given in to my immediate impulse of kicking the driver in the head a few times. I've never been a flexible sort of person, but for her, in that situation, I just might have managed it, despite the fact that I generally believe in nonviolence.

My fair city is locally notorious for its bad drivers, and I have to say, though I've driven in Boston, Los Angeles, and Seoul (where the buses and taxis play chicken all day with drivers and NEVER GIVE IN), this place is the worst. The drivers here are not aggressive, fast, or agressive AND fast like the three aforementioned cities--they're idiots. Until I gave up on reading the "Law & Disorder" section of our local paper as a sanity preserving measure, I noticed that just about every day, there was at least one blip about someone randomly driving into a barrier or light post--generally on the highway, though often on city streets, and often not even in inclement weather. It made me wonder whether there was some alien ship hovering over my city sending subliminal messages to the weakminded to "Drive into the curb. Hit that light post at 60 mph. Wrench the wheel--it'll be fun! Everyone's doing it!" Or, perhaps it's all a Vast, Right-wing Conspiracy....

And then there are the vindictive drivers here. There's a doctor (A doctor! The do-no-harm kind of doctor!) who will be on trial soon for pulling a road rage maneuver that resulted in a mother of very young children getting into a fatal accident in her car. Basically, she did something to tick him off, so he pulled in front of her and slammed on the brakes, causing her to lose control of her car. I had this happen to me in a rainstorm when I changed lanes (to the right) in front of a car that was speeding, and therefore caught up to me a lot sooner than he should have. Again, the kids weren't in the car, but these and other events and the stories I've heard (I have more, but I'll spare you) about local driving have actually made me terrified to drive them anywhere. I do, because you can't let fear control your life, but every time I'm in the car with them, the fact that some dummy could run into us is always on my mind. I just hope that won't happen and that in a year and a half when Jose is through with his job here, I can get him to quickly agree to go elsewhere. Anywhere elsewhere. I'd suffer through a lifetime of Midwestern winters and zero access to a beach and bad hairdressers to leave here.

So now Jose is suggesting that I get an SUV, despite the fact that I would rather rollerskate everywhere than drive something that gets terrible gas mileage and can only parallel park into a spot the size of a cruise ship berth. He thinks they are safer, even though I've been sending him info about studies that say they are not. When we started having this argument, the Scion was already a done deal, but now, if it's totaled? Oh, I'll win this argument, because it's my car and my car loan, but the thought of going through this again gives me a headache. (Oh, wait, I already had one. THANKS, Ms. Dumber-than-a-bag-of-hair.)

And, just because I'm feeling random, here's another thing that annoys me: No way in hell did Kellie Pickler not know what "ballsy" meant. Now she's just messing with us. And I don't like it.

"Seven Days to a Less Scatterbrained Me" Update: The last thing I need is to fall in the shower or jam a toothbrush through my cheek. Day 1 will have to wait until later.