Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


Driving is scary

So, the world almost lost a very Charming Single Girl tonight. I spent the evening having drinks with pals. I was very careful to drink very little, as I am housesitting quite a ways out of the city and knew I'd have a bit of a drive ahead of me. I leave the bar, grab a meatless chalupa from Taco Bell ('cause, you know nothing tastes like Taco Bell at 2:30 a.m.) and hop on the Interstate and head to the house. I'm trucking along, singing backing vocals for Ms. Joss Stone when I see headlights coming toward me. I am understandably confused. I'm not driving on some piddly two-lane highway in the backwoods. I'm on the freaking four-lane Interstate, which not surprisingly has a WALL that keeps the four lanes of eastbound traffic away from the four lanes of westbound traffic. Or so I thought. It takes about 30 seconds for me to realize that someone is coming straight at me, driving the wrong way down the Interstate. After the initial shock wore off, I dug in my brain to remember back to driver's ed. This subject was DEFINITELY not covered. So, it's 2:30 in the morning, and all of the cars around me are going at least 75 miles per hour and I don't have time to think now, because I wasted all of it trying to comprehend that a car was, in fact, flying toward me intending to collide with me in a situation that was sure to end in someone's death. I wasn't in any mood to find out whose. I jerked my wheel and my car glided to the right, missing the car by maybe a few feet and thankfully not swiping a neighboring car. My first reaction was to stop my car, rest my head on the steering wheel and cry from the sheer horror of it all, but I quickly remembered that I was driving 75 miles per hour on the Interstate and was probably all of out of driving miracles for the day. I arrived to the house without further incident, choked down part of a calupa (cause I'm a bit shaken up now) and I'm heading to bed. I'm thinking I probably should have called the police, but it was all I could do to keep driving. I'd had enough near-death experiences for one night. Sigh. It was a fun night otherwise. (Also, I smoked a cigarette. Rather, I smoked three cigarettes, all before the near-fatal almost car crash. But you can't be mad at me, because I almost DIED tonight. And I threw away the pack and my matches and I'm sure I'm going to feel like hell in the morning. Isn't that punishment enough?)



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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



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