Spiders, Horror Movies, and College Towns.

Last week I literally drove all day from Small Town to College Town, which is several states away. It was less expensive than flying there, not to mention the airport nearest to College Town is hours away. It was my first time driving such a long distance by myself, and of course, I got lost.

I used the GPS on my phone, but took a wrong turn and ended up all the way out in Tiny Town (and at that point I'm still not sure what state I was in). The cell phone reception in that area was almost nonexistent, so I couldn't use my GPS. And like the genius that I am, I did not bring a road map either.

I had to stop at more than one gas station to ask for directions (I was all, "Stopping at a gas station for directions? What is this, the nineties?) before I finally made it back to an area with cell reception. I was very relieved, especially because getting lost in an unfamiliar place is exactly what happens in way too many horror movies, and the umbrella that I keep in my car would be no match against a chainsaw-wielding cannibal.

When I got to College Town, I got a room at a "hotel", and I use the term loosely because it was exactly the kind of hotel that you see in almost every horror movie, complete with screaming in the halls. Fortunately, the screaming wasn't from people being chased by serial killers or ghosts but was more along the lines of, "Dang it! Who drank the last beer?" and "I KNOW you were looking at her! Don't you lie to me!" and "Keep it DOWN! I don't want people calling the cops on us again!" Several of the guests hung out in the parking lot, drinking beer with their shirts off.

I went to College Town so that I could find an apartment. Here's what happened:

Me: Does the landlord pay for an exterminator if there are bugs in the apartment?

Leasing agent #1: Actually, the tenants are responsible for the cost of that if there are bugs. But don't worry, we don't have that problem around here.

Me: Okay, but there is a ginormous spider spinning a web behind you right now.

Me: Do a lot of college students live here? Most of my current neighbors in Small Town are students, and they are the reason that earplugs were invented.

Leasing agent #2: Oh no, this apartment complex is very quiet.

Me: (starts to answer but is distracted by the sound of someone playing the trumpet in the apartment above us.)

Leasing agent #3: And as you can see, we have a lot of nice amenities around here, like a swimming pool for the tenants.

Me: Oh, that's nice. (What I was really thinking: This is the Midwest. The tenants won't be able to use the pool for 80% of the year, and yet they'll have to pay for it 100% of the year.)

I finally did find an apartment that I liked. After I did things like get renter's insurance and set up my electricity in my new place, I drove to the campus of the school where I will be teaching. The last time I set foot on that campus was almost twenty years ago, when I was a seventeen year old high school student looking at colleges. Although I liked the school, I didn't go to that college; I chose another one that offered me a scholarship and a place in their honors program. It was so strange to go back to College Town as a thirty-six-year-old college teacher and see the place now that I was older, wiser, and much more heavily caffeinated.

I also drove around College Town, which is more than twice the size of Small Town. I noticed that the former has more restaurants and stores; it will be nice not to have to drive several hours just to go shopping at someplace other than Walmart.

Now I'm back in Small Town, researching moving companies, packing up my stuff, and getting rid of the stuff that I no longer need or use. I'm leaving for my new town and job in less than a month, and I feel nervous, excited, and a little scared. I hope that I'll like it there, and I hope that I can stay at that job longer than I did at the one I had here.

When I drive back to College Town, I'll be sure to bring a road map. And possibly a chainsaw.


What about you? Have you ever moved to a new place where you never lived before?

The Worst Day

I haven't blogged in a while because I've been dealing with a lot of problems, one of which included calling 911 for help.

One day I decided to get takeout after several days of my own cooking. It was raining hard when I went out, but I'd driven through thunderstorms before and thought it would be okay. I was wrong.

When I drove out onto the main road, it quickly became flooded, to the point that it was like driving through a river. I tried to pull into a parking lot, but all of a sudden my car stalled. Then my car started filling up with water. I tried to open a door, but even more water rushed in.

Meanwhile, the car kept weaving back and forth in the water. I was afraid that other cars might hit it. I kept thinking of those movies where the main character is trapped in some kind of container and the water keeps rising. I got so scared that I called 911 for help. A cop showed up a few minutes later, and she and another guy literally had to pull me out the window and help me across the street.

Once the water levels decreased, a tow truck driver brought my car to the dealership. I had to call my insurance company, who sent an adjuster out to look at the car. He said that the car was totaled and I would have to get a new one.

I spoke to my mother on the phone several times, and she kept berating me. She said that this was karma for the fact that I was a bad person.

My father was not as angry, but now he tries to micromanage my driving. For example, I have to drive out to their state (a nearly ten hour round trip) for the second time this summer to take care of their dogs while they travel. He keeps calling to tell me when and where I should drive, even though the last time I followed his instructions, the trip took two hours longer than it should have.

He said that I didn't have a right to be upset over driving there again. My father claimed that the fact that I have had to go to their state several times a year to take care of their dogs, give up my school breaks, take unpaid time off from my jobs (and lose a lot of money in the process) was nothing compared to the sacrifices that he and my mother made over the years.

A few days after I got a new car (the same kind, only a newer model), I was backing out of a parking space at the bank and accidentally hit a car that was driving out. (If I was in a cartoon, that would have been the moment I took out a sledgehammer and hit myself over the head with it.) The other driver was nice about it (but let's see how nice she is if and when she files an insurance claim), but she ended up with a small dent in her door and I got a small scratch on my bumper.

To make matters worse, someone apparently took pictures and a video of me being pulled out of my car window during the flood. They not only posted it on Facebook but it ended up in the local paper, so that random people in Small Town keep asking me, "Was that you?"

I have, however, learned several things from this. One is to always check the forecast and make sure there are no flash flood warnings. Two is to always be careful in parking lots and when driving in general. And three is to accept the fact that although they did help me with the down payment for my new car (which I appreciate, and which I will repay), I cannot rely on my parents for emotional support. They reacted the same way when I was hospitalized two years ago: they berated me, blamed me (my doctors said it wasn't my fault), and tried to micromanage my treatment (if I'd followed their advice and not my doctors', I would have needed brain surgery and possibly gone blind).

I am an adult and will not allow them to control me, though that doesn't stop them from trying. My mother keeps reminding me about how the Bible says that children should honor their parents. But I think that I deserve respect too, and I refuse to bow down to either of them.

What about you? Have you ever gotten in a car accident or had to call 911?

Road Rage

I hate driving.

In Chicago, I didn't have to drive. I could take the El or the bus, or I could walk to my destination. Many of the places we needed, like the bank, the grocery store, the dry cleaner, coffee shops, and restaurants, were within walking distance.

In this small town I've moved to, I hardly ever see anyone walking around, except for the students walking around the campus of the school where I teach. It's necessary to own a car here, which is why I will spend the next four or five years making car payments. I wanted to buy a cheaper, used car, but my parents insisted that I buy a new one. Since they were loaning me the money for a down payment, and since I got tired of arguing with them, I did. My mother demanded that I get the color and make that she wanted, even though technically it is my car.

One bonus is that since this is a small town, I can usually get through two weeks of driving on one tank of gas. I must admit that it is nice to only have to make one trip to the grocery store, rather than two or three trips like in Chicago, where I could only buy as much as I could carry in my reusable bags or small shopping cart.

I'm also saving up for a summer road trip to some place I haven't been to before, even though my parents say that they want to come along to "chaperone" (did I mention I'm thirty-four years old?). But there is NO way they're coming with me. I'm looking forward to a trip where it's just me, my car, and the open road in front of me.

But in this town, I often get stuck behind drivers who apparently drive by the following mottos: "I'm going to drive this ol' pickup truck as slowly as possible so that everyone can admire my fine, giant Confederate flag" or "If I cut off as many people as possible, I WIN!" or "I'm sure no one will mind if I delay traffic so that I can stop and spit out my window."

In my apartment complex, all the tenants are assigned parking spaces, though the assignments are completely disregarded by the majority of my neighbors, who apparently park by the following mottos: "Some people color outside of the lines. I park outside of the lines," and "Who cares if this space isn't mine? First come, first served, sucker!" It's easy for my loser neighbors to steal my spot, since most of them don't seem to work for a living and are home more often than I am.

I never let them get away with it, though. I've told them repeatedly to get their cars out of my parking space. I resist the urge to key the words "I HATE YOU" into the fancy cars that their parents bought for them.

Public transportation in Chicago is not cheap, but it's still a lot cheaper than owning a car. I have to make monthly car payments, as well as pay for gas, car maintenance, insurance, and cleaning. Due to all of those expenses, I haven't had a haircut in more than three months; my shoes have holes in them, and I'm down to one pair of jeans and two pairs of dress pants.

When I walked around Chicago, I burned more calories in one day than I do in a week's worth of walking around Small Town. When I was walking or riding the bus or train, I could usually take the time to observe the people around me, enjoy the music I was listening to on my iPod, and appreciate other sights, like the view of the Chicago River from one of the downtown bridges, the street performers, and the high-rise buildings that reflected the sunlight. When I'm driving, I'm usually focused on getting from Point A to Point B without getting into an accident.

I think the biggest reason I hate driving is because it reinforces the fact that my life is here now (at least for the next year or two), and that I might never live in Chicago again. I know this move was necessary, especially because I need this job. But sometimes, when I'm telling my loser neighbors for the eighth time to get their car out of my space or I'm trying not to flip off the driver who just cut me off, I wish that I was on a crowded El full of chattering tourists, rowdy Cubs fans, and random people shrieking about politics/religion/the upcoming alien invasion.

What about you? How do you feel about driving or commuting in general? Have you ever taken a road trip?