Invisibility

   Last weekend while driving home from my kayaking adventure at Smithville lake with Joni, a woman who was texting almost broadsided my Rav-4. And keep in mind, it was broad daylight, sunny, and I had a 10' neon orange kayak on my car. I was a large, orange-glowing object. If she had use of her faculties, there's no way she could have missed me.
   Two days ago, I was on the highway on my way to work in the morning, and a man coming up behind me in the adjacent lane suddenly surged into my lane, nearly broadsiding me again. He came from BEHIND me—again, if he were alert, there's no way he could have missed seeing me as he approached. I laid on my horn for about ten full seconds, but he CONTINUED into my lane rather than correct himself. His face never reacted. He was a zombie.
   Then last night, I was almost home from the Squeaks & Beeps celebration, and was forced to stop before the intersection of Farley & 87th, as a cyclist had just been struck down by a car. Paramedics were just arriving, and swarmed the lifeless body in the middle of the street, working frantically. Cars couldn't get through, so there was nothing we could do but sit there and watch in horror as firemen, police, and EMTs tried to get control of the scene. The car involved was crumpled up like a tin can. I can't imagine how someone's body could have caused that kind of damage to a car—perhaps the car struck another object too? I'll never know how the accident happened. But what I know is that all these scenes left me sickened with the thought of what could have been, and my heart raced each time.
   I think about the three times I have been hit by other drivers in the past two years: their fault each time. Rear-ended twice, and backed into once. I was invisible to all. And I feel like I might have targets painted all over my Rav that are visible to everyone but me!
   I am not going to lie and say that I haven't texted while driving; and even if I'm not responding, it is always tempting to check email. We are all so BUSY. I am as addicted to my stupid phone as we all seem to be. It is a true addiction, and a horrible temptation.
   I've noticed while sitting at home watching TV, that if I'm simultaneously checking texts, emails, or Facebook on my phone, I have to keep rewinding the TV show because minutes will pass—and I'll suddenly realize that I have absolutely no idea what's going on.
   We all think we're good multi-taskers, and the bottom line is, we're all wrong. And given the three things that I've witnessed in just the past few days, I am going to make a concerted effort to focus, especially when I'm driving my car. Because I know how freaked out I was when I realized I was invisible to those other drivers, and contemplated the price we'd all have paid if I hadn't been alert. And I cannot even imagine the weight I'd feel if I had hurt someone else in my own invisible fog.
   I'd like to challenge anyone reading this to join me. I understand the temptation, but the fact is, nothing on our phones is worth the risk. For those who are fortunate enough not to be tempted, thank you for helping others to adopt your behavior.

Where's Sherlock Holmes when you need him?

Q: What's this?

A: Not a scene you want to come home to.

   Very curious about how my short little Taylor managed to get all the way up on my countertop and pull down a full plate of mint-chocolate-chocolate chip cookies & a piece of Mary Ann's Texas sheet cake that was way back against the wall. (But I guess I shouldn't be too surprised since I myself scaled a 10-12' wall in the Ruckus.) This boy's back legs are like coiled springs.
   Hitting this height is a new low for him... And this is the THIRD dish he has broken recently in his gluttonous pursuits. This was my favorite sushi-serving platter, so I put the dogs right outside & am leaving them out (yes, in the pouring rain!) to prevent me from breaking THEM into little pieces...
   This little incident has unequivocally proven that chocolate is both a stimulant and an aphrodisiac for dogs. Because Taylor has been a total spaz all night, howling, whining, pouncing, throwing toys, and then following Aki around, humping her until she gets pissed off and roars & snaps at him, then once she settles... coming back for another round. It was a LONG night! And Taylor woke me up periodically, getting into things and chewing them up.

   I swear to Dog that IF I ever have children, they will NOT be eating any sugar, because my nerves can't handle any more than a hopped-up Shiba Inu. He is a TERROR!!!

Is This Show a Comedy or a Tragedy?

ACT I: Birds of a feather

   Just a few minutes after I arrived at my seat prior to Jay-Z and Kanye West's Watch the Throne show at Sprint Center, a woman and her son sat down next to me. They were friendly and asked if I came with friends, and I answered no, that while I did have friends who were here (somewhere), I bought  a single ticket. So we proceeded to make good friends. Claudine was around the age of my Mom, and Kip was her adult son. Both were huge fans of the performers (!) and had driven down from Omaha, Nebraska just to see this show, so of course I respected them immediately. Claudine had recently retired from being a high school art teacher for over 30 years. She herself had studied with a famous Japanese potter (whose name I have regrettably forgotten). They were both intelligent and animated, and the more we talked, the more we had in common. They were huge foodies, and we traded notes on the best restaurants in our respective cities (I recommended Justus Drugstore; she recommended Grey Plume). Judging from our rave reviews, I think each restaurants should be paying us handsomely for the advertising! Speaking of which, here are a pair of recent raves:  KC Star  /  Time Magazine

   As we carried on, it struck me that I was having a conversation with a 60-something me, and I was enjoying myself. In fact, I'd be quite happy to grow into Claudine: still attractive and fashionable, young for her age, animated and easy to know, funny, and with interesting tastes and passions that run deep. Hoping this really was a crystal ball into my future.

   ACT II: Kanye vs. Jay-Z

   Read my synopsis of this spectacular show here! Admittedly, I was feeling guilty for spending $100 on a ticket and then not being thrilled with the new album, but was thrilled to be proven wrong—Money well-spent!

ACT III: Rav-4 vs. Semi

   This is where the tragedy starts. After a euphoric 2.5+ hour performance, I exited the arena and headed back to my car in the Wall Street Tower parking garage. It took over 20 minutes to get out... and about 16 minutes of that was waiting to back out of the spot. People were not feeling generous. I finally exited and rounded the block, headed back toward I-35 to go home. A semi truck was ahead of me for a few blocks. We stopped at a red light, where I needed to make my turn. He also had his right turn signal on. Alright, going my way. I waited patiently. This is where the trouble began.

   Without warning, the semi which was stopped directly in front of me back up. And after 1:00 am, I guess my lightning-quick reflexes aren't sufficient, because I laid on the horn and threw it into reverse as fast as I could: and the semi crunched the front of my car anyway. The driver got out, clearly hopped up on adrenaline, and first got upset and asked what I was doing behind him, and claimed that he never saw me. Once I explained that we were both turning the same direction and I was just waiting for him to go through the light so I could get to the freeway, he softened, and admitted that he *didn't* intent to turn right. He was parking. And he had overshot his parking spot on the curb... and backed into me.

   A security guard called the police for us, and we waited over 40 minutes, but all the police were tied up with traffic control. So we took photos of the damage, exchanged information, and went our separate ways. With me hoping that he didn't change his story later—since we had no witnesses to prove that he backed into me, and that I didn't rear-end him. This made me nervous!

ACT IV: Update, December 9

   I enjoyed my week in Lake Tahoe, dropped the car off at Toyota on Monday for repair, picked up my rental car, and my car was done, as promised, by Friday. It looked good as new, though it was after 5, and getting dark, when I picked it up.

ACT V: Can I please be done already??? December 28

   I took the car in yet again because on Christmas morning, 3 light inexplicably illuminated on the dash: Check engine, VSC, and 4WD. I assumed it was an anomaly from the accident. Toyota said it wasn't: I had a rare occurrence for a low-mileage car in which a gas valve went bad. They said they could probably cover the $1600+ repair cost for me. And while I was talking with them, I asked them about the oddly-curved panel in the lower front of the car which I thought should have been straight after the collision repair. And the scratches on the hood, which was supposed to be brand new. Apparently they missed those minor details. Guess who has to take the car back for repairs during the New Year?

Spoke Too Soon

   Today started out mega-awesome, but started to turn sour when I left work. I had planned to stop by the e-vet to pick up Atom's remains. I allowed almost a month to pass, thinking I was past the raw emotion from grief. I was wrong. The recpetionist was so quiet and kind; she went in the back to retrieve my box, and lovingly placed it in my hands, saying, "I am sincerely sorry for your loss." It was so sweet, but I wasn't ready. I had to put my sunglasses on as I left the building, to conceal the steady stream of tears rolling down my cheeks once again.
    I composed myself in the car and headed home. On Shawnee Mission Parkway, ironically RIGHT in front of the Toyota collision department building, a guy in the pickup in front of me slammed on his brakes and came to an *extremely* abrupt stop. I followed suit, but my brakes didn't get me there fast enough, & I rear-ended him.
    We both got out of our cars, and he greeted me in an understated but very friendly way. I asked him how bad the damage was, bracing for his answer. "My truck is fine," he said. "I've got a hitch on it. Unfortunately your car didn't fare so well."

    Yep, I had a hitch embedded in my front bumper. Groan. We exchanged cars and he told me that he didn't intend to report the accident to the police or the insurance company. " I have no damage to report," he said. Fortunately, me damage was minor—a dimple on the bumper. Although I don't think there was any way I could have avoided this (other than not being there right then!), the rear-ended is always at fault, right?
    He told me he hoped I'd have a better weekend and we left. As I drove home, I thought about how lucky I was for his hitch: although it damaged my car worse than it may have otherwise, at least it protected his car from harm.

   I came home and noticed a slip of paper tucked under the lid of Atom's box. It was a copy of "The Rainbow Bridge." Hello, uncontrollable tears of sadness. I stood in my kitchen bawling again, with my three pets wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
    Well, looking at the bright side, my weekend can only get better, right? :I

If you live in KC, stay home tonight!

I got home a little while ago, and snow was coming down but the roads were just wet—not slick. Watching tonight's news, though, I realize how lucky I am: check out this 40+ car crash on the West side!

What a way to start the year!

Tonight I was headed home from Target & got rear-ended at a red light. Turns out I'M the target! My neck is sore & getting steadily moreso but I'm fine otherwise. (Please Aleve, kick in soon!) My beloved Rav-4 is a little mashed. The street was littered with pieces of the bumper and tire cover. This is the 2nd time I've been rear-ended in 6 months, in case anyone is counting. Probably don't want to ride in the back if you're traveling with me. Good news is: at least the shibas weren't with me! I'm seriously going to paint a big target on the back of that tire cover.