Everyday I make the same commute to work. I make the same left-hand turn, stop at the same stop sign, weave through the same lanes. I’ve done it so many times that I don’t really think about the details of the route. I don’t have to look for the street names, I just know where to turn.
When I first started driving to the studio, I had to pay attention to every little thing my GPS said. I barely noticed the trees or what the houses looked like. I took a few wrong turns and had to drive a lot slower than my usual pace. But as I started driving there more and more it became more automatic and less confusing. Continue reading
My car has seen better days.
She’s missing a hubcap. Her newly replaced bumper from her accident has been quickly marred by my neighbors’ repeated failed parallel parking attempts. I’m pretty sure her doors are used by people in parking lots to bounce their own doors (and carriages) off of for fun judging by the amount of dings and paint transfers. Her sideview mirror is glued on courtesy of the snowstorms of two winters ago. I haven’t washed her exterior in…ever. I can’t see out her side windows due to dog nose smudges.
She’s been around the block a few (billion) times. Continue reading
There is this road by my house called the Jamaicaway or J-way as the locals call it. It’s a narrow, four-lane, undivided parkway that most people drive on as if it was the track at the Indy 500. It is hilly with a ton of twists and turns and I’ve known more that a few people that have lost rearview mirrors or hubcaps in the fray of everyone trying to get from point A to point B asquicklyaspossible. It’s part of my daily commute to work. Good times.
There is a particular light on the J-way that you can make a left turn at UNLESS it is between the hours of 7am-9am or 4pm-6pm. Now the sign that tells you this information is on the far right side of the 2 lanes and quite weathered. Basically you need to have learned about it through folklore and legend passed down through many generations of your family. Continue reading
Forgive me for the void between posts. My writing about life came to a bit of a snag because of…life. Ah, life. How you are full of so many twists and turns. And potholes.
Speaking of potholes, while I was driving the other day in a particularly bad area of Boston construction on a particularly bad day on my way to do a particularly difficult task, a tiny thought managed to make its way into the tightly clenched fist my brain had become.
Your grip is too tight. Let it go. Continue reading