GHOST DRIVER!

When autobahn phenomena go global...

Enter a shitty corolla, driven by Erin Horak. The scene is a divided highway, four lanes in all. I head south, the weight of the metaphor of that heavily upon me. The urge to mock someone else’s stage directions here is strong. Perhaps I drove sardonically.

I was innocently passing (sardonically), la di da, and I see headlights lights coming towards me. It's a divided highway, so for a second I don't think anything of it. Then I realize those lights are REALLY close. In fact, not coming from the divided section of my divided highway. I glance rearview, there's about a six foot space to get into in the other lane. I break hard so the people in the right lane will see my lights, slow, and allow me more room. They do. I slide through the gap between the two right lane cars onto the gravel on the right side of the road, thus avoiding getting hit. The girls from said car behind, in their incredibly predictable Iowa t-shirts, also stop to freak out with me. We go on.

I mention this in a call to my mom, "Are you sure you weren't on the wrong side of the road?" Okay, I know my driving is bad, but a little faith here. A mile down the road a car is medianed, dented, and there's a group of people around a figure on the ground. I pull over and hop across the highway in hopes of telling the police, in case they don't already know, that Das Ghost Driver is still in action further on. Police aren't on the scene yet, so I talk to a woman with neck nurse tags- I always like nurses, they're so relentlessly practical and dependable in weird situations. She says she just said the same as I was about to to the people gathered around the still, presumably injured, person on the ground. Thrown from the not terribly damaged looking car or sideswiped while walking? Both seem unlikely, but then physics is a mystery to me which only Quarks and Quasars can help me unfold. I wonder whether the injured person is alive. People don't seem to have tried to move him or her off the ground. Bad sign/ Smallish figure. Girl, or person my build, younger guy? Bad sign. I think of other car accidents and get a pitch woozy. There are a good fifteen bystanders bystanding, Nurse-atron among them, and I don't see what more use I can be. I go on.


I have to stop to get some chocolate o' rehabilitation at Bill's All Night Truckstop Eatery in Eubella, MO. I realize I'm wearing a Chinese silk dress with slits to the high thighs. Oh well. Have to saunter directly to the counter past truckers and co all staring at me to demand the bathroom. Get lip from counter guy. Smile and ignore. In for a penny in for a pound, leave parking lot blasting MIA. Am so totally out of place back home at times. They look at me like an alien, appropriate accent and all. Moral of story: NEVER attempt to go home.

AIM for a while and then get off, totally intending to crash. Fail to be able to do so, eventually give up and then just spend 'till now playing with Rasputin the Wonder Cat, finding The One Yentl Femslash In EVER, catching up on Wodehouse fic and then just disintegrating into Truly Atrocious, Hilarious H/D Veela Slash Crap.

Have to get Molly a birthday present today.

Jason Robert Brown’s Songs for A New World is an AMAZING album. Natalie Merchant’s Tigerlilly is rather disappointing- I seem to remember it being, um, better than this.

GHOST DRIVER!

When autobahn phenomena go global...

Enter a shitty corolla, driven by Erin Horak. The scene is a divided highway, four lanes in all. I head south, the weight of the metaphor of that heavily upon me. The urge to mock someone else’s stage directions here is strong. Perhaps I drove sardonically.

I was innocently passing (sardonically), la di da, and I see headlights lights coming towards me. It's a divided highway, so for a second I don't think anything of it. Then I realize those lights are REALLY close. In fact, not coming from the divided section of my divided highway. I glance rearview, there's about a six foot space to get into in the other lane. I break hard so the people in the right lane will see my lights, slow, and allow me more room. They do. I slide through the gap between the two right lane cars onto the gravel on the right side of the road, thus avoiding getting hit. The girls from said car behind, in their incredibly predictable Iowa t-shirts, also stop to freak out with me. We go on.

I mention this in a call to my mom, "Are you sure you weren't on the wrong side of the road?" Okay, I know my driving is bad, but a little faith here. A mile down the road a car is medianed, dented, and there's a group of people around a figure on the ground. I pull over and hop across the highway in hopes of telling the police, in case they don't already know, that Das Ghost Driver is still in action further on. Police aren't on the scene yet, so I talk to a woman with neck nurse tags- I always like nurses, they're so relentlessly practical and dependable in weird situations. She says she just said the same as I was about to to the people gathered around the still, presumably injured, person on the ground. Thrown from the not terribly damaged looking car or sideswiped while walking? Both seem unlikely, but then physics is a mystery to me which only Quarks and Quasars can help me unfold. I wonder whether the injured person is alive. People don't seem to have tried to move him or her off the ground. Bad sign/ Smallish figure. Girl, or person my build, younger guy? Bad sign. I think of other car accidents and get a pitch woozy. There are a good fifteen bystanders bystanding, Nurse-atron among them, and I don't see what more use I can be. I go on.


I have to stop to get some chocolate o' rehabilitation at Bill's All Night Truckstop Eatery in Eubella, MO. I realize I'm wearing a Chinese silk dress with slits to the high thighs. Oh well. Have to saunter directly to the counter past truckers and co all staring at me to demand the bathroom. Get lip from counter guy. Smile and ignore. In for a penny in for a pound, leave parking lot blasting MIA. Am so totally out of place back home at times. They look at me like an alien, appropriate accent and all. Moral of story: NEVER attempt to go home.

AIM for a while and then get off, totally intending to crash. Fail to be able to do so, eventually give up and then just spend 'till now playing with Rasputin the Wonder Cat, finding The One Yentl Femslash In EVER, catching up on Wodehouse fic and then just disintegrating into Truly Atrocious, Hilarious H/D Veela Slash Crap.

Have to get Molly a birthday present today.

Jason Robert Brown’s Songs for A New World is an AMAZING album. Natalie Merchant’s Tigerlilly is rather disappointing- I seem to remember it being, um, better than this.