Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


Gridlock

Remember that REM video where the people get caught in traffic and they're all stuck in their own problems and miserable and then they just get out of their cars on the freeway and leave, breaking free from their personal trials and uniting around the larger, communal problem of poor urban planning? (Or something like that.) Yeah, I had a similar experience today. Except for the part where we left our cars on the freeway. (Like that would ever actually happen.) I had a business meeting about an hour and 15 minutes away. I left two hours before the meeting -- enough time to grab a sandwich at a Subway about halfway to where my meeting was and park in a parking garage and walk a block to the meeting and still be on time. I eventually arrived at the meeting an hour and a half after it started, thankfully through no fault of my own. There was a wreck, one of those terrible wrecks that backs up the entire Interstate for hours. I must've only been a few minutes behind it, because I got caught between two Interstate exits, which put me in the awkward position of having to just wait out the traffic jam and hope I didn't miss anything important at my meeting. For a brief moment I contemplated jumping the median and making a U-turn to go the other way on the Interstate. The median sloped into a ditch about four or five feet deep and my SUV would've taken it like a champion. Unfortunately the compact company car I was driving was neither meant to jump medians or owned by me. (Also, I am pretty sure I signed something that said I generally wouldn't drive irresponsibly and specifically jump any medians in a company car.) So I stayed put and munched on about a million pieces of Orbit Whitening gum (the only food I had with me), drank all of my granita and two bottles of water. (Not the smoothest of moves, seeing as I was confined to a bathroomless car.) This left me hyper from all of the coffee (it was a large) and ready to explode because of all of the water. I didn't even have anything to read. I had literally packed my laptop and a blank notepad in my new big purse. I had printed a newspaper article (a short one, natch) and Mapquest directions on my way out, but neither of them really held my interest. I contemplated booting up my laptop and attempting to do some sort of work, but I didn't know how long the battery would last. So I sat. I changed the station. I cursed the CD player that wouldn't play my burned CDs. I watched people get out of their cars and walk around and grew a jealous of the people who exited their cars to have a cigarette. (I'm attempting to quit smoking altogether, even when I'm stressed out or drunk. This was quite a test. Fortunately I didn't have any cigarettes with me.) I watched men disappear into the woods lining the street and duck behind bushes to relieve themselves. After about 45 minutes, I wondered if anyone would notice if I did the same, but decided that urination on the side of the highway was definitely not something I was into. The wreck finally cleared and the traffic sped up and I eventually made it to my meeting long enough to hear the last two hours or so and head home. (I'm going back tomorrow.) I don't even know why I'm writing this, except to just write something. I didn't come into any big realizations whilst stuck in unbearable traffic. I didn't find any symbolism in the cars and the rednecks peeing on the side of the road or the annoying people who insisted on driving down the right-side median, only to be blocked from moving on by the police officers at the scene of the accident. Come to think of it, I didn't really stress that much once I realized that there wasn't a whole hell of a lot for me to do about it. I had my own little mini American Idol, singing along to every cheesy song that came onto the radio. (Windows down, of course.) It was, in a really odd sort of way, kind of relaxing.



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Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."




Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke



Associated Content Interview with Charming
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