I've always prided myself on having a good sense of direction.
Like the birds in winter, I never have any trouble telling which way south is.
North, east and west are easy enough to figure out, too. You know, based on where south is, of course.
One might think that this means I can drive to new locations with ease, never worrying about getting lost.
One would be, horribly, terribly wrong about that, by the way.
I get lost ALL. THE. TIME.
It may have something to do with my aversion to making left turns. But whatever. I go my own way.
So the other night I was invited to a party. Not like a PAR-TAY, no. This was one of those parties that middle-aged ladies all go to so they can buy stuff from each other. It's ok. The food was delicious.
Anyway, I got there just fine thankyouverymuch since it was in a neighborhood I was vaguely familiar with (and by "vaguely familiar with" I mean Zachary's former babysitter lived one street over which means I have been in this neighborhood approximately 2,000 times in my life) but when I left it was dark.
Dark. And raining.
It was a dark and stormy night...
So I pull out of the driveway and I was IMMEDIATELY lost.
Oops.
I drove in circles and passed my friend's house twice before realizing I was back on the same street.
Finally I managed to make my way off the street and I found another cross street that I THOUGHT I recognized.
So I turned right. As you do.
Now remember. It's dark. It's raining.
And I was completely and utterly lost, less than four miles from my house.
Cue circus music.
So I continue to drive, seeing things that may or may not be vaguely familiar and seeing street names that look for all the world like street names that I recognize from my decade of living here.
But somehow I manage to get further and further away from home.
I finally realized that I was totally, utterly and completely lost when I started seeing signs that said "Welcome to Ft. Knox."
Well hell.
That was NOT where I wanted to go.
For those of you who are not familiar, when you enter a military base there are large gates, guards posted, confusing rules that no one understands, occasional car searches and the possibility of being detained. You know, if you might be a terrorist.
I dug around in my purse and pulled my driver's license out to hand to the soldier at the gate. I waved it around frantically at him and said "Oh my goodness, officer, I'm so lost! Oh, wait, you're not an officer, are you? What should I call you? Soldier? Sir? Hottie in a uniform? Oh it doesn't really matter what I call you, now does it? See, I mean you no harm HAHAHAHAHA! I'm totally innocent. I'm just lost. I was at a party - ON NOT THAT KIND OF PARTY - an old ladies' party HAHA! - and it's raining - oh, I guess you know it's raining since you're standing out here in it, don't you? - but I got all mixed up and I did not want to come here but I didn't see a way to turn around and maybe that should be a THING, don't you think? A way to turn around once you get started up in here? Wouldn't that make your life so much easier? I'm guessing this kind of thing happens all the time, doesn't it? HAHAHA!" I may occasionally laugh inappropriately when I'm nervous. Or lost. Officer Solider Whatshisname looked at my driver's license, then back at me, then back at my license, then back at me and answered, "No ma'am, you're my first."
Oh. Well then.
He then quite kindly (like you would for your grandma, or any other crazy old person who was out in questionable circumstances) LED my car (while on foot) to the exit gate and gave me slow, deliberate, clear instructions about how to get home. Well, home-ish.
I felt slightly mollified, since there was clearly a procedure in place for when semi-hysterical middle aged women show up on the Army base on a rainy night in need of assistance.
I might have been HIS first, but I'm guessing I'm not THE first, ya know?
I'm proud to report that I made it home relatively quickly from there. Officer Soldier Whatshisname provided excellent directions, and I was able remember most of them.
And I never left my house again.
The end.
One might think that this means I can drive to new locations with ease, never worrying about getting lost.
One would be, horribly, terribly wrong about that, by the way.
I get lost ALL. THE. TIME.
It may have something to do with my aversion to making left turns. But whatever. I go my own way.
So the other night I was invited to a party. Not like a PAR-TAY, no. This was one of those parties that middle-aged ladies all go to so they can buy stuff from each other. It's ok. The food was delicious.
Anyway, I got there just fine thankyouverymuch since it was in a neighborhood I was vaguely familiar with (and by "vaguely familiar with" I mean Zachary's former babysitter lived one street over which means I have been in this neighborhood approximately 2,000 times in my life) but when I left it was dark.
Dark. And raining.
It was a dark and stormy night...
So I pull out of the driveway and I was IMMEDIATELY lost.
Oops.
I drove in circles and passed my friend's house twice before realizing I was back on the same street.
Finally I managed to make my way off the street and I found another cross street that I THOUGHT I recognized.
So I turned right. As you do.
Now remember. It's dark. It's raining.
And I was completely and utterly lost, less than four miles from my house.
Cue circus music.
So I continue to drive, seeing things that may or may not be vaguely familiar and seeing street names that look for all the world like street names that I recognize from my decade of living here.
But somehow I manage to get further and further away from home.
I finally realized that I was totally, utterly and completely lost when I started seeing signs that said "Welcome to Ft. Knox."
Well hell.
That was NOT where I wanted to go.
For those of you who are not familiar, when you enter a military base there are large gates, guards posted, confusing rules that no one understands, occasional car searches and the possibility of being detained. You know, if you might be a terrorist.
I dug around in my purse and pulled my driver's license out to hand to the soldier at the gate. I waved it around frantically at him and said "Oh my goodness, officer, I'm so lost! Oh, wait, you're not an officer, are you? What should I call you? Soldier? Sir? Hottie in a uniform? Oh it doesn't really matter what I call you, now does it? See, I mean you no harm HAHAHAHAHA! I'm totally innocent. I'm just lost. I was at a party - ON NOT THAT KIND OF PARTY - an old ladies' party HAHA! - and it's raining - oh, I guess you know it's raining since you're standing out here in it, don't you? - but I got all mixed up and I did not want to come here but I didn't see a way to turn around and maybe that should be a THING, don't you think? A way to turn around once you get started up in here? Wouldn't that make your life so much easier? I'm guessing this kind of thing happens all the time, doesn't it? HAHAHA!" I may occasionally laugh inappropriately when I'm nervous. Or lost. Officer Solider Whatshisname looked at my driver's license, then back at me, then back at my license, then back at me and answered, "No ma'am, you're my first."
Oh. Well then.
He then quite kindly (like you would for your grandma, or any other crazy old person who was out in questionable circumstances) LED my car (while on foot) to the exit gate and gave me slow, deliberate, clear instructions about how to get home. Well, home-ish.
I felt slightly mollified, since there was clearly a procedure in place for when semi-hysterical middle aged women show up on the Army base on a rainy night in need of assistance.
I might have been HIS first, but I'm guessing I'm not THE first, ya know?
I'm proud to report that I made it home relatively quickly from there. Officer Soldier Whatshisname provided excellent directions, and I was able remember most of them.
And I never left my house again.
The end.
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