I know I know.  I haven't been there for you.  I've been absent.  All i can say for myself is that everything must come in moderation, even blogging.  And I think the vacation has given me renewed vigor . . . and certainly some good material.

Last Saturday was my uncle's 60th birthday, and my whole family (mom, dad, bro, his fiance, cousins) got together in ny state and had a wonderful little celebration.  As the dinner was coming to a close, my bro's fiance asked if I wouldn't mind driving their car home for them as they were still tired from their trip up from nyc.

What I should have said was that I had been driving since landing in boston from england and that I was still a bit jet lagged and that I might not be the best option.  What i DID say was, "Sure, no problem."  (my bad).

Somehow I knew we were destined to have an eventful trip home when I started by driving on the left side of the street.  I think the combination of driving their Jeep (which is what I drive in St. John [on the left side]) and justing having been in England + a dash of jet-laggedness = Matt started driving on the left side down the backwood streets near my uncle's house.  "Um . . .  your on the wrong side of the road," say my brother."  What could I say but, "Oops."

Later in our journey home, after the part where we go screeching to a stop at STOP sign that snuck up on me (I swear I'm a good driver), we got to a little one road town that is notorious as a speed trap.  With the speed limit 35, I passed the officer while going 33.  I thanked my brother for reminding me about the trap and we continued on.  A few minutes later, as I am trying to clear my windshield, I see a car pass the car behind me.  I'm still well under the speed limit, but the lights from the truck behind me are not helping my visibility.  Then the truck's lights go on.  State trooper.  I have no idea what I have done.  I am well under the speed limit, and seeing as I'm having trouble seeing out the windshield, I know I was driving carefully.

I used to freak out when I got pulled over.  It's the natural reaction.  The adrenaline hits the back of your neck and you feel totally alert (and upset).  I no longer freak out.  I've been pulled over so many times (without so much as a ticket--almost always because i wasn't doing anything wrong) in the past 4 years that I'm calm and collected.  I mean, I've been pulled over for pulling over for a police officer!

But something's wrong.  It's been a few minutes and the officer still hasn't approached my car.  And during this wait, little did I know that the universe was actually providing me with a last moment of purity, before I would hit an all-time low.  The nest thing that happened was  . . .  my parents pulled over in front of me.  (i believe the website goes = FML).

Getting pulled over and then having your parents pull to the side of the road with you is the very definition of a non-ideal situation.  The trooper then comes to my window, and says, "That your dad is the car in front of you?" (I never thought I'd long to hear the words "license and registration").  "I'm afraid so," I reply.  I get a small smile.  "Well, I need you to do me a favor and tell him NEVER (and he emphasized it) to pull up behind a state trooper.  It turns out, my elongated wait was the result of the trooper not getting out of his vehicle until the car behind him pulled away (a good policy--i get it).  He was waiving my dad along as my dad rolled down his window and screamed up to the cop, "THAT'S MY SON!."   (can you believe this happened!)

The cop said I had hit the center line and he wanted to make sure I wasn't drunk (um . . . no, that's just the state trooper behind me blinding me with his lights).  In debriefing at home, my dad (who I had mercilessly been teasing about his terrifying "drifting" habit while driving) was quick to defend my driving saying that the cop had pulled behind them and was tracking me the whole time--while I hadn't sped or driven crazy at all.  Dad did not fail to mention the irony of me getting pulled over for swerving.  I will say that I had not expected him to fail in this regard.

The best part of the whole thing, the silver lining if you will, was that when the cop said I had hit the center line, I told him I was having trouble clearing the windshield, as they had been fogging and the windshield wipers were horrible.  In order to demonstrate the points I was making, I went and squirted washer fluid on the windshield to illustrate the wipers' shitiness.  In doing so, I inadvertently totally squirted the cop. (if you're giggling, you're a sicko--but i like you)  Pretty good actually.  He totally didn't see it coming--my sneak attack.  To his credit, he deadpanned it to perfection: "Aaaand now you just squirted me."  For a brief second I was terrified, imagining my life falling into ruin after assaulting a cop with washer fluid.  Really, it seemed that after my dad had terrified him by rolling up behind his cruiser, this guy just wanted to be done with the whole family.  That's what you get when you mess with mi familia, enough crazy to send you packing. Karma-wise, I feel that it's what he gets for pulling over someone going under the 35 mph speed limit.

And thus endth another completely pointless instance of me getting pulled over for no apparent reason.