|Why can't we look the other way?
||[Feb. 9th, 2005|12:57 am]
|[||Your mom ain't listening to
|||||Blonde Redhead - Falling Man||]|
So tonight was the big Interpol show in Lawrence. I left work at about 4:20 to make sure I had plenty of time to get there. It took me two hours to get to KCK because no one downtown seems to know how to drive. It took me an hour and a half just to get west of Southwest Tfwy, then I cut through the neighborhoods to Rainbow so I could finally escape. By time I got to 78th and I-70, it was nearly 7. I decided it best to stop and make sure my tank was full, even though I had 3/4 of a tank of gas. As I was getting back onto the highway, I had to drive through a small snow drift from where the snow plows had shoved all the snow into the entrance ramp. My back tires must have picked up just enough snow to lose all traction because the next thing I knew, my backend was fishtailing and my car did a 180 into the middle lane. There I am, facing oncoming traffic, a semi in the left lane, a semi in the right lane. Both barrelled past me at 55 mph. As soon as they were past I jammed the wheel as far as I could to the left and punched the gas, spinning the car back around into the right direction and sliding myself into the breakdown lane. All the while Jen was sitting on the phone listening to me scream profanities from the comfort of my cell phone lying in my passenger seat. Good times. The rest of the trip to Low-Rents was uneventful, the show was good, and I made it home alive in one piece with no excitement of note.
You'd think that would've been a life affirming experience or something. I'm simply blaming too many hours of GTA3. Kind of sad, really. There's probably something to be read into all of this. I've already formulated my thoughts on the matter though.