and I don't wanna miss a thing

I remember my last trip to Disney World. It was a high school concert choir trip; and my fellow chorus nerds and I waited to get on the Rock N’ Roller Aerosmith coaster at MGM for about an hour. If you’ve ever been to Disney, you know that this type of endeavor involves considerable sweat, intermittent downpours, and a seemingly unending maze of stanchions.


I endured these indignities, envying the nonchalant nature of my adrenaline junkie travel companions while secretly plotting an escape to the Tiki Room. Alas, I made it to the front of the line, chest puffed in exaggerated bravado…just to be escorted to the emergency exit by coaster attendants who witnessed my hyperventilation and struggle to withhold from anxiety-puking all over the cars. I waited outside the building for my friends, my resolve to avoid roller coasters (...and also oral surgeons, celery, and that Kingman, AZ gas station bathroom on the way to Vegas...) stronger than ever.

Fast forward over ten years later to this morning, and I’m in my car waiting over 40 minutes to travel only 8 miles. I am reminded of that Disney trip, hoping and praying that unlike the panic-induced trauma of that day there is at least something interesting at the end of this wait.

But no. Traffic was backed-up and I was late because people were checking out road workers busy looking busy. Seriously?! No fender-bender, no high-speed police chase, no freakin’ rock n roller coaster…just men trying to pull off the orange and yellow-striped look?

The letdown was worse for me than not being able to muster the strength to get on the coaster.

It’s not that I want for there to be ambulances or body bags or anything morbid like that…but if I’m going to be sitting in my car for 40 minutes I want it to be worth something. That’s all I’m sayin’. Is that so wrong? Or could I at least get a chipper Disney intern to escort me personally off the parkway through a secret passageway to funnel cake, fresh-squeezed lemonade, and corn dogs?


8/12/2010 UPDATE: This morning's 15 minute backup was rewarded with a brake-worthy car-b-q in the southbound lanes. No one was hurt. The car was trashed. Someone "up there" is really listenin!

garden state girl scout

When you work so far away from where you live, prepping to leave the house in the morning requires effort far beyond the average thermos-filling and PB & J packing. You must be prepared for just about any scenario that could happen in the 8 work hours plus 4 driving hours that you’ll be away from the house.

First and foremost, the cell phone must be charged.

You must assemble a small arsenal of pharmacy essentials: Advil, Tampax (not just for personal emergencies, but also for use in bartering future favors from desperate colleagues), Chapstick, backup Chapstick (cuz those suckers disappear faster than socks in a dryer), contact rewetting solution, and my favorite little vice – cherry flavored Halls.

Then, of course, there’s the buffet of snacks and beverages that someone maintaining a metabolism like mine requires on a bi-hourly basis. (It’s been suggested that I eat more before noon than Super Yummy Boyfriend eats all day.)


And then there is the sweater for ridiculously cold air conditioning. The flip-flops to wear between the parking lot and the office. The umbrella in case the weather is different “up north”. It’s not like I can just run home during lunch to grab something I’ve forgotten.

Clearly, considerable foresight is essential…or else my normal workday could turn into one of those first day of school nightmares. You know the kind? Where a lucid dream leads you through half a morning without a bookbag and pants, and none of your dream buddies alert you until lunchtime? AWKWARD. And I know, because I’ve actually been there.

For some people work is just work. For me...it's a serious excursion. Gotta be prepared.

pee-pees and peas please

After a long day of driving and working and driving again, there are really only three things that I think about on my way home: (1) how I knew I should’ve peed before I left the office, because it’s so much more efficient than having to pull off at a rest area; (2) how no reasonable commute should ever pass multiple rest areas; and (3) how I am so hungry that I could be lured into a Whopper I know I’ll regret.

Oh, and how much I can’t wait to get home to see Super Yummy Boyfriend! (And how much I hope he already cooked dinner.)

While the nagging urge to pee starts pretty much as I pull out of the lot, the hunger is less immediate – from initial rumblings to a dull roar to desperate irrational thoughts like “I may even need to eat before I pee.” **

So…I thought I’d get personal with you on this Thursday afternoon and share the three things that I crave THE MOST during my evening commute:

FIRST: peas.


I love them. I even used to eat them as an after school snack when I was a latchkey kid with full reign over the pantry. I’ll eat them frozen straight out of the bag or heat them in the microwave with a scoop of Cheez-Whiz and some salsa. Butter and parmesan works too.

SECOND: sour cream.


So not on its own, but maybe on top of peas? Or chili? Or chips? Or quesadillas? Or baked potatoes? Or French fries? It doesn’t really matter. I love sour cream.

THIRD: tomato soup with scrambled eggs.

THIS is my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE comfort food. Whip up some eggs, plop ‘em in the bottom of a bowl and pour cream of tomato on top. Okay, quit it with the gagging noise; I can hear you through my computer.

Anyways, so now that we’ve bonded on this intimate gastronomic level, the next time you see me headed south on the parkway, please do me the favor of staying out of my way: I’m starving, I gotta pee, and I’m taking no prisoners (leaves more peas for me!).

Now you know.



**NOTE: For those of you with genuine concerns for my health - I am neither diabetic nor pregnant, nor do I have a UTI. I just drink a lot of coffee and like food. But thanks for checking! Love ya!

doughy inside with a crisp outer crust

Perhaps it’s because it is Friday, or perhaps it’s because I had an incredible apple cinnamon bagel with my coffee this morning, but I’m in a good mood. I even managed to maintain my good mood for the entirety of my 94 mile morning commute. I know that you must be incredibly disappointed that my pH is so balanced, but have no fear – I’m sure that next week’s entries will be acidic enough for a Pepcid.

In the meantime, I thought I’d update you on the status of my tolling: I haven’t yet procured that EZpass. Besides my tendency to procrastinate on all things that require research, I actually enjoy the sound of the clink, clink, clink of exact change hitting the basin. It’s strangely gratifying, not unlike those fabulous Wheel of Fortune quarter slot machines. SPIN! “BIG MONEY, BIG MONEY, BIG MONEY!” I know I’m spending money. I know I’m not really gonna get anything back for it in the long run (though the parkway feigns improvements). But it’s something to occupy my time; and just like gambling, queuing up to pay a toll can be just entertaining enough to throw a few quarters at it.

This morning, for example, as I sympathetically decelerated by those waiting in the “I-don’t-have-EZpass-or-exact-change-and-I-am-basically-completely-unprepared-to-be-commuting” Cash lane, I witnessed a driver neglecting to maintain the customary toll lane distance of 1 foot from the car in front of him as he dug up his bills. Meanwhile, no less than FIVE cars pulled in to the lane in front of him. Now, had he been the last car in the lane, I wouldn’t have found this as entertaining; however, this guy:


was behind him, waving his New York turning signal with pride. I feel for you, buddy, I do. Have a bagel.