You know that feeling you get at the very top of a roller coaster…the one of dread, not to be confused with the one of excitement? Well, that is how I feel when I have to parallel park. So the simplified solution to my dilemma is to park where I can simply drive into a spot, and where the word “parallel” is not involved. Sadly the traffic surrounding my daughter’s school at one o’ clock makes it impossible to do this.
I usually see to it that I am there about forty minutes before the bell goes, thus ensuring stress free parking. I can pick out a nice spot, simply drive into it and leave enough room to comfortably drive out again. The days where I find myself unable to get to the school early, I perspire and almost brake out in hives when I drive up and see the smallest space, if any, available. I simply skip it and circle till there is a comfortable three car space for me to pull into.
The traffic is really heavy to the degree where people even double park, and no, they don’t leave their cars running…they switch them off and park! Last week I parked and this old guy parked right next to me, car switched off and all. I thought to myself that even though I’m parked in, at least I’m parked! The very next day, he did the exact same thing, I felt a bit annoyed having to wait, but oh well.
To my absolute astonishment another women double parked next to the guy that double parked next to me!! And this is in a normal two-way road. At first I thought she stopped for a car from the front, but apparently not. The cherry on top was when the old man wanted to go and he was parked in! Whahahaha, he got very agitated and started hooting.
Oh the joy! I still don’t venture into the dismal world of parallel parking and I reckon I need hours and hours of professional training and some sort of stress relief tablets 🙂 For the moment I’ll stick to the parking spots that call out to me…
Driving down the road the other day, I noticed the guy in front of me switch on his emergency lights. He drove just over 40km ph … and almost in the middle of the two lanes. I was contemplating passing him, but stuck behind him for a while, as his erratic driving made me a bit nervous… Eventually he stuck to his lane long enough so that I could pass. Upon passing I looked over to see what the problem was…thinking he might have car problems of some sort… But no…. Far more important than car problems, he was chatting away on his cell phone. I felt like a complete idiot…how could I have missed that memo?? And here I ignore important calls or put people on speaker phone, and what not… if only I knew that throwing on your emergency lights, driving in the middle of the road and staying at about 40 km per hour was all it takes for you to show people you’re on your cell.
Today I’m guilt ridden. I’m a world changer you know… well I try to believe that I am. Obviously I have to explain and defend the thought you might have that I’m talking a black municipal bin full of rubbish. Anyway… driving in my dinky I most definitely always stick to the speed limit. I do sometimes find the needle going just over… but the manufacturers could be one little line off, so for just in case that might be the fact, I don’t mind. BUT never over that! There was this one instance where dear accident prone hubby almost plained off his hand and I did go over the speed limit that day, but in the sheer face of blood filled emergency, I was left with absolutely NO other choice! Today however, I went home for a bit of lunch, and in my complete boredom on such a sun drenched day, I decided to nap for just a few winks. Bad idea…when I finally dragged my limp body back into my dinky to drive back, I was half asleep and the golden sun was just tooo golden and oh sooo bright. I had a haze floating around my head and on the way back – which I might add felt like an hour’s drive, but is more like a 5 min drive – my red veined sleepy eyes fell on the speedometer and I was over the speed limit. Just a bit…ok ok…a lot a bit. I slowed down with a feeling that I caused some irreparable damage to the structure of things. You see, if I drive the speed limit, I change something…I make a small difference, and a lot of small differences make a big difference – and a note to those of you who are most probably thinking “that women would annoy me on the road” ..tush to you
My girls both love music. We bought Jaime a keyboard last Christmas and she has been tutored by her uncle ever since. The in between practises are most painful. She is a quick learner and can play a few songs. In the moments where all the notes seem to shoot through every nerve ending, bouncing off you inner cavities, I have to remind myself that one day all will be beautiful. And the of course there is the endless singing…The girls love to sing. Meagan, the little one, belts it out no matter how false, with bum shaking, lip pouting attitude… she has the ‘knit one, slip one” approach, as most of the words elude her. I’m not so bad myself…having to endure endless superstar “concerts”and a never changing Camp rock CD in the car… naturally I too know all the words. I might just join some menopausal women’s band when I’m 40….wha ha ha. Sooo with Camp Rock imbedded in my head since this morning;”come as you are, you’re a superstar…world in your pocket and you know it” la la la la, la la
I have a ‘’ granny mobile’’. Not the the old wagon-type, more the scaling down, limited speed –for-granny-type. Secretly I am profoundly proud of it. My girls still fit in nicely in the back… mind you they are only 5 and 7, but still. My 7 year old can fit her suitcase in at her feet… ok I admit… i have to move the seat forward, but we fit… SNUGLY. Oh and I do have space for my very important junk for- every-occasion filled handbag. I can’t really give any 1600 a go, even to overtake, I meen, my poor dinky will most probably fall apart at the wheels. I am of the personal opinion that it has attitude. Ok yes, my secret thoughts on this wavers, but when I stop my little dinky at the petrol pump, and when one of the petrol jocks FINALLY spots us… I do get an indescribable, spine tingling sensation and purest satisfaction when it fills up and the final tally stays under R230. That’s when my aging cheeks feel rosier, my eyes sparkle and I gleam at the smug guy in the 2L BMW next to me with the thought that my R200 will most definitely get me further… ah yes, that is how we ordinary folk do it…