what the dictionary doesn’t tell you
SCARY: College students who pedal through town and campus on their bicycles while jabbering away on their cell phones.
See also: stupid, suicidal, oblivious, road hazard, hella annoying
Please supply further synonyms.

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say good-bye to the commute extraordinaire -
- til we meet again, september 30th (or something)
winter hills
summer hills
hit the road, jack
the road less taken

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I knew it was a red car.
Three boys and a girl were killed, and another girl critically injured, in that freeway accident last Monday. Local articles have referred to it as “grisly,” “high-impact,” “ugly,” and “tragic.”
It has been difficult to escape the aftermath of the accident over the course of the past week. You […]

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After four years, the sixty-mile drive to school has become second-nature. I scoff at people who complain about supposedly long drives, dismissively citing my own daily commute to school as “nothing.” It has come to the point where I don’t even have to concentrate on driving; I get from Point A to Point B – […]

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Some people like taking a break and “getting away” when the stress hits and life feels like too much to handle. I, on the other hand, can’t really complain about my life, so I randomly decide to “get away” whenever I want to, without regard for whether the days are good or bad. It’s fun, […]

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just say no to déjà vu
So guess what. They changed the curve again. AGAIN! Cal-Trans, you’re killing me here. Holy freakin’ smoley, have pity on this Commuter Child Extraordinaire.

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There is an edge of panic that one usually feels when familiar surroundings have changed, when safe boundary lines have shifted and blurred. It is akin to the feeling I used to have growing up when, waking up during the middle of the night in yet another new home, I’d attempt to blindly navigate my […]

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some conversation/no contemplation/hit the road
“My poor baby,” laughed Somayya last night, “you need sleep.”
This was after we had walked halfway across campus from the library at almost midnight and climbed four flights of stairs at the parking garage only to find the entire level empty, with nary a car in sight. I stared in alarm. […]

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i heart traffic school - day two
Patsy: So tell us, Damon, how many tickets have you received?
Damon: Total?
Patsy: Yes.
Damon: Oh, I’d say about…25 to 30. *shrugs nonchalantly*
Everyone: *collective gasp* OHHHHHH…!
Patsy: *shrieks* 25 to 30??!!
Damon: *defensively* Whaaat? In all my years of driving? That’s not bad at all.
Everyone: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Patsy: *pained expression*
Damon was sitting next to me, […]

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i heart traffic school - day one
Patsy: What’s your name, hon?Me: Yasmine.Patsy: *winces at pronunciation* So what can I call you?Me: *suppressing laughter* Yasmine.Patsy: You really are mean, aren’t you?
Patsy: Alright, someone give me the two-letter abbreviation for “senior.”Jason B.: Old.
Patsy: So, tell us, why are you here in traffic school tonight?Me: For speeding on […]

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[I just felt the need for some sarcasm, that’s all]
driving-related annoyances
- Driving with your foot propped up on the dashboard, or your leg out the window – Why do you feel the need to do this? I don’t understand.
- People with handicapped stickers/placards on sports cars so tiny I bet even I could barely fit […]

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February 2001: During my freshman year of college, driving home late one night, I got pulled over on a dark, empty stretch of freeway for going 85 miles per hour. “In a rush to get somewhere?” asked the highway patrolman, face set in implacable lines. I was so rattled and nervous that I blurted out, […]

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Once in a while, I feel like doing something random. As the family’s resident Rebel Child Extraordinaire, I do have an image to uphold, ya know. So today, because I had somehow managed to leave home earlier than usual, I decided to kill time by exiting the freeway about fifteen miles into my drive. I […]

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I lean back into my seat in the university library’s 24-hour room, wince at the unrelenting hardness of my wooden chair, and ruefully wonder what possessed me to study here. I think longingly of the small, private, third-floor room where I usually study: broad tables with polished black surfaces, muted voices, chairs with cushioned seats. […]

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