There Was Definitely Screaming

I DROVE ON THE EXPRESSWAY!!!!!

I'm telling you, I wasn't kidding when I said I was determined to get over this fear of mine! Thankfully my friends were all in when I told them about project "Helping Eden Get Over Her Absolutely Ridiculous Fears" and so off we went, to tackle my fears and create nightmares.

A few weeks ago my Platonic Husband drove me to the city to see a musical at one of the theatres. In case you didn't know this, not only do I not drive on expressway, but aside from doctor appointments where I am dropped off and picked up at the doors of my destination, I also don't do the city. By not "doing the city" I basically mean that all those wonderful miles of happiness and joy can just go fuck themselves because that's where all the scary shit lives and I don't want to be anywhere near it.

To say that I was nervous about venturing where the scary shit lives into the city would be the understatement of the century. I spent weeks talking myself off the ledge of insanity and eventually I became ok with the idea that in my delusional mind we were simply going to park inside the theatre, see the show, pull out, and teleport ourselves home.

Needless to say that did not happen.

What really happened was that we parked and walked 176 miles to the theatre. Well maybe not quite that much, but it seemed like it was about that far. I could see the sign for the theatre all the way from the parking garage, but it was doing one of those "oasis in the desert" things where I kept thinking we were getting closer and the sign just kept moving further away.

Well fuck that shit!

At one point as we were waiting for the stoplight to change so that we could cross the street, someone handed $10 to a homeless man in a wheelchair who was holding a sign that said "hungry and paralyzed." That may have actually given me the slightest hope that maybe, just maybe, the city wasn't entirely and exclusively filled with psychos and serial killers, except for the fact that as soon as the good-doer walked away the paralyzed man stood up, handcuffed his wheelchair to a bike rack, and then walked into a restaurant without even trying to fake a limp.

OH NO YOU DIDN'T!

Eventually we made it to the theatre where I proceeded to tell my Platonic Husband all of the things that could go wrong while we were in there and she attempted to shut me up by stuffing my face with copious amounts of rasionettes.

"Seriously Eden," she said. "You cannot possibly expect that all of those things will happen today."

OH YES I CAN.

When we left I was ready to run to the car (because everyone knows that after dark is when the city murderers come out), but she was content with walking around first. As I stood outside next to a woman who was sitting in a lawn chair, holding a cat that was wearing a sweater (I mean it was 13 degrees outside so I guess that makes the tiniest bit of sense), before she somehow talked me into going into a shoe store.

Once inside I snapped this little picture of the rubber prison shower shoes that were featured in "Things That Make You Ask Why Part 9." This was a new thing for me, rubber prison shower shoes being sold in a big box shoe store, but I guess that's what city folk need; detox shoes.

We have no need for things like that in my rural town, we just pack flats and hope the walk of shame home isn't too far. I guess in the city a night out on the town includes packing your prison gear.

I then rubbed elbows with a woman who was shopping in slippers, a bathrobe, and a hair net... and thus decided that this had been quite enough city for me.

We high tailed it to the parking garage where we paid $40 and almost got out.

I say almost because the parking garage gate arm thing only went up about two feet and then fell back down, therefore trapping us inside. 

I'm not even kidding.

Even Ms. Calm, cool, and collected "I love the city!!!" Platonic Husband was screaming at the gate.

This is why I do not like the city. Crazy shit happens there and I AM NOT OK WITH IT.

In fact, the last time I was there for enjoyment purposes I must have been about 18 and I was with my brother. Not only did a homeless man ask me for money and then try to rip my purse right off of my shoulder (which started a shoving match between him and my brother), but we took the train which is an experience I have completely blocked out of my mind, before we got on a bus.

I remember the bus.

While on the bus — sitting in the first seat mind you — the entire door fell off.

THE ENTIRE DOOR FELL OFF OF THE BUS.

It landed in the street (and thankfully missed any other vehicles). The bus driver stopped, recruited a couple passengers, and together they hauled the door onto the bus and laid it in the aisle. So there I was, feet resting on the door, driving down the city streets while the bus driver was making sharp turns that defied gravity, and all the while I'm sitting next to a gaping hole in the side of a moving vehicle.

NO THANK YOU.

So apparently I don't do trains, buses, or parking garages. I'm kind of running out of options here people....

Thankfully by the grace of God we made it home and I'm pretty sure that I've had enough city for the next...oh...maybe forever actually.

So anyways, back to today.

Today I drove on the expressway. My dear Platonic Husband and I had plans to go to Ikea and she seized the opportunity to say "and how about you drive on the expressway?"

Bitch.

But because I'm trying to be a grown up here, I said "sure bitch."

I pull up to her house and this is what got in my car.

Now she can make fun of my driving all she wants, but let me just point out that at least I know how to put a bicycle helmet on. She is all "why are the straps covering my eyes?" and I'm all "because you have it on backwards bitch my dear."

So basically we are exactly the kind of people you want zipping down the expressway. One in the midst of a panic attack and the other who can't see the oncoming semi truck because a backwards bicycle helmet is blocking her view.

Lovely.

I probably should have clarified in my last post that when I say I have gotten to the point of being able to drive on the highway with other people, what I actually meant was "I have gotten to the point where I can ride on the highway with other people driving." 

Not drive, ride.

So there I am, suddenly driving down the expressway for the first time ever, and really, I didn't see what all the hype was about. This wonderful and magical pathway did not seem to be saving me any more time than when I take the back roads, so what is the point?

I questioned my friend about this and her reply was "because this is the expressway. It's made to express (she then did a little hand motion of a car zipping down the road). We are going 30mph. Speed up or we are going to get run over."

Psh. Details.

So I sped up a little and eventually.... WE MADE IT!!!!

I made it to Ikea ON THE EXPRESSWAY!!

I then turned to my Platonic Husband and said "I did it!! I did great!! Wait...was there screaming? I have a vague memory of screaming" to which she replied "there was definitely screaming."

DON'T JUDGE ME. Merging is scary.

We then had a wonderful time at Ikea! My Platonic Husband did the worm dance inside of a children's play tunnel....

...while I watched her from the comfort of a children's rocking chair. 

She was worried that I wouldn't be able to get my ass out of it, BUT I DID (let the record state). She on the other hand had to be physically pulled from a chair that was in a shape I literally cannot even describe. After that I pushed her on a palate cart up to the register while she pretended to kayak with a curtain rod until we almost got run over by a refrigerator on a dolly.

Basically it was a fairly normal day for us.

All of that though is completely irrelevant because the big news here is that I DROVE ON THE EXPRESSWAY!!

Can I get a round of applause here?

We then decided that we'd already had enough excitement for one day and took the back roads home.

But who cares, because I did it!!