Yesterday I drove

from Rio Piedras to Winston Churchill Ave. 4, almost 5 mile. Took the highway. Scary! Scary!

My husband kept telling me to go faster. "We're gonna get hit! Go faster! Ahhh!"

And I was struggling to remain in the correct lane, what with the potholes and the places where the lanes are not even marked. Also, I suspect I am losing my sight and we were doing this at 4am.

The important thing is we survived.

I told the gals at work: "If you found the traffic heavier than usual, it might have been caused by the trail of chaos, mayhem and destruction I left on my wake as I DROVE TO WORK TODAY!"

They cheered for my achievement a bit, predicted I would be a regular Road Warrior Queen in no time, and were quite insistent in that it was about time.

Then, one of the bosses got on my case about my use of negatives in speech. Metaphysics and such, Connie Melendez, Silverio Perez and the seven dwarves. She said that negative thinking poisons the mind, even in jest.

Well, shoot me! That puts a handicap in my communication skills.

I suppose at the second round I'll be leaving behind me a trail of rainbows, cherubs and purring kitties in my wake.

Under Construction

Not the blog. Me.

I am an unfinished project, a building still in the planning phase.

Never bothered me before. I have always had someone to depend on, first my father, then my husband, who would help me out. They would always be there to help me out, always ready to defend me. I was comfortable in the knowledge that they would place themselves in danger, if it came to that, to spare me.

I am lucky. I know, and this is in no way meant to belittle that commitment in them.

Then I started reading cop blogs and survivalist blogs. And I realized, not only their commitment is not returned (Duh! 'Cause I'm a girl, and girls don't have to come to the rescue.) but my attitude itself might put me in dangerous situations. Being protected is no reason for me to neglect my education.

I can't drive. I can't shoot a gun. Don't like to cook and the green thumb eludes me in potted plants. I do alright with plants on the ground, but I am living in an apartment and I don't even have a balcony. Suddenly I realized if there was a crisis or crime I was a sitting duck. Yikes!
I need to get prepared fast.

Carlos found this change in me a bit bewildering, I think. But he is a very laid back man and he allows me my crazy times, so as long as I don't buy myself a milk goat to keep in the kitchen, he is cool with all of this.

Anyways, I devised a plan to make myself into a more self-sufficient person.
First I need to drive. Working on it.
This will free more options for me later on.

I am searching for a house with land to homestead. Not too much land, I plan on urban-homesteading. Right now I live in a metropolitan area, near the bus routes, at the very axis, almost. If I don't drive, I remain constrained to this area, where I will pay premium prices for a small ugly house in a bad neighborhood. Once I have my own method of transportation, I will be able to choose almost any part of the island, so I will be able to get more land for less money.

I plan on getting a gun and learning how to use it. My husband is not comfortable at all with this part, but I think it's important. I will wait until I have my driver's license, though, because it is a matter of escalation. I don't want the gun if I can't handle myself with a stupid car.

Then comes the homesteading thing, and this is not as time and work intensive in Puerto Rico as in the United States. Here things grow all on their own. Spit a seed and you will have a giant beanstalk in a matter of days.

And classes. I want to take first aid classes and learn how to take care of things. But this is a while down the road, I know. Carlos does not have the time to take me to all these places and do all of these things, so everything depends on the driver's license.

For the moment I am working on my cooking. Storing food and water, just in case, because we just entered the hurricane season. There will be no takeout then, so I am trying to master a few recipes before then. My husband happily wolfs down whatever I put on his plate, so we make a good working pair.

First steps first, no?

Step one - cooking delicious food.

Step two - getting my wheels.

Am I going blind?

I first noticed something wrong on January 2008, when I got my apprentice driver's licence. When they show you the E's facing different directions. I aced that test, got my 20/20's but I had to strain for it.

I never had to strain before.

Now, since at least this January I have been sort of suspecting I am not seeing clearly. I do not pay much attention to my surroundings anyways, and the loss was mostly on far things, so I was not overly worried. Then the fuzzyness crept nearer and I got the hibbi-jibies.

Now I can deduce what traffic signs say, because of the shape of the words, but the letters themselves are too unfocused to be deciphered. I have trouble seeing things that my bespectacled co-workers say: "Daaamn, woman! And you say you can't see that?"

I can't imagine anything worse than losing my sight. I am a reader. I would die!
And yes, I am aware there is a certain thing called Braille, but I would have to learn to read all over again, and meanwhile I would not be able to read.

Also, I have not yet seen an ophthalmologist. I have an appointment for July, it was the soonest I could get.

I am probably drowning in a glass of water. I have no blindness in my family, on either side. Still, I am anxious.

Maybe this is my body telling me not to drive.....

JUST KIDDING!!!!

Learning to drive

At this age of mine,(turning 30 in two weeks, if you must know) I am learning to drive.

Carlos takes me for a spin in a parking lot we know that is totally vacant on Caturdays. At first he stayed on the car giving me directions, but now he gets off and tells me to drive around a few times and return for him. It gives me more confidence. No more sharp indrawn breath when I make something stupid.

I am still having trouble judging distances, and it's not like I'm learning inside a ginormous-monstertruck- SUV. I am driving in a sedan. Small, compact, automatic transmission.

Still, everytime I turn right I misjudge the distance and either invade the other lane or jump the curve.

I am aware that I sound pathetic. I should have learned sooo long ago that it would be second nature to me. Hindsight is 20/20.

the guys at work tell me that I should get me a professional teacher. Learning with family and friends is harder because they love you and will not force you to go farther than you want to go at that moment, so you learn slooooowly. Or they get nervous easily and rattle your nerves too!

They tell me a real teacher would place me behind the wheel on day one, and we would go on a long-ish trip. Two hours or so. After three days of this, they say, anyone is ready for the test.
And that is scary as hell to me.

I will do it, but after I have passed a slightly smaller test Carlos devised for me.

You see, Carlos goes to work at 4:45 am and takes me to my job. At the time there is very little traffic.

There is some traffic, so I am not in my confort zone, but since I fear I might be a risk to others on the road, this is the best way to test me and give me confidence for the professional teacher.

I will be driving to work on Monday morning. After a week of this, I will be ready for a trip to Ponce and will be blogging about it!

Chickenshit

Let me say it out loud, in a public forum... I CANNOT DRIVE!!!!

Shameful on my part. Very embarrasing, like a Social Disease. Ugh.

At first it was lazyness. All my brothers and sisters are one to one-year-and-a-half apart in age. So there was always someone going through that stage of JUST GOT MY LICENSE when all mom had to do was mumble something about there being no milk and the newly licenced would volunteer to heroically make it all right again. So touching...

So I never HAD to learn to drive. There was, from my point of view, no incentive.

Then I got into college. My dorm was across the street from campus, and Paseo de Diego, a pedestrian-only street full of stores was a few minutes away. Again, there was no need to drive.

I met my Beloved Tormentor in college. He was the night security guard on my dorm. So whenever I could not sleep, I could just go down to the first floor and talk a while. No driving necessary. When things got serious and we were formally a couple, part of the mating dance was driving me places and showing me stuff. No need to drive, again.

A few years ago, my neighbor, a single mom I knew from college calls me. She is having and asthma attack. I tell her I cannot take her to the hospital since I do not drive. She tells me she does not need a driver, she needs a friend and someone to care for Baby. I agree, we get on the SUV and get rolling to the nearest ER. Auxilio Mutuo. She goes into the round driveway, stops the car, tosses the keys at me and wheezes "park the car" before leaving.

I am blocking the ER entrance, there are people watching and THERE IS A BABY IN THE BACK SEAT! Of course I drove the car. It jumped the curve, would not go straight and I got it to stop right when I was about to hit the water fountain. There I mustered whatever dignity I still had and asked for help from an ambulance driver. A real gentleman, he saw the entire thing and did not laugh at me.

The baby did not even wake up.

Anyways, I started to consider this driving thing might be useful someday... Then I promptly forgot about it.

Married now. We have different work schedules. He has to be there at 4:45 am. I start at 8am.

At first I took the bus. But my bus stop is located right in front of one of the refuges where they help drugaddicts. While I waited for my bus to arrive, I was surrounded by a group of men waiting for their bus to take them to ASEM to get their methadone treatment. No big deal, right? They were trying to do the right thing... Yep, I idiotically put myself in a dangerous situation.

The monday after Thanksgiving, as I was waiting for my bus, one of the guys was having a fit. It seems he had missed a few appointments on his therapy and they might cut him out of the program. He was telling his friend how the hospital staff HAD to give him the STUFF, and out he takes a knife.

HOLY-S***!

It was not a Rambo machete-knife. It was one of those plastic thingies they use to open boxes, with etching on the blade so you can break pieces of it off... Can screw you up just as bad.

The guy is doing a desperate little dance, waiving that knife around and telling his buddies how bad he was going to srew someone up at the hospital if anyone gave him grief. And I am watching the knife, watching the knife, 'cause if that dude gives one step in my direction I am gonna go WHOOSH!

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Anyways, my bus came, I got in, the driver tells me never to wait there again (cause in Puerto Rico we like to give unsolicited advise) but I don't mind the meddling 'cause , Man, he was right.

When my husband came to pick me up after work I told him of the incident, trying to make light of it, no big deal...

Now he takes me and picks me up from work. At 5 am he leaves me at a deli near my job and goes to work. As a result, he is getting in late everyday. Has been reprimanded a few times. And all because I had no incentive to drive.

Do I feel guilty?

You have no idea.