I drove to Maine today. It was the longest drive of the trip so far. It should have taken 5.5 hours and it took almost 8. My average speed for the first two hours was about 7 miles per hour. The traffic was insane in NYC. And the drivers are crazy. They switch lanes without warning, whether there’s space or not. At one point an inpatient car was driving on the left-hand shoulder of the highway. Then there were the motorcyclists going about 85 when everyone else was sitting still. It was very nerve wracking.
Of course things didn’t get any better once I got out of NYC. The drivers outside the city favored slower speeds despite the fact the speed limit was 65 miles per hour. I passed a ton of cars going around 55, and breaking every so often. I often think the slower drivers are more dangerous than the fast ones. At least the speeders are moving. Today I was driving along and the person in front of me would break for no reason. It was also nerve wracking.
And then there was Connecticut. As someone who has driven across the country many, many times. Hands down Conncecticut is the worst state to drive in. First the exits are not illuminated in anyway. They are just dark voids in the abyss. Second, they conveniently don’t have the signs saying McDonald’s, Wendy’s, and Burger King at this exit. They have little symbols indicating this exit has gas, food and lodging. What they don’t tell you is that when you get off the highway you’ll have to drive ten miles to find it. At one exit I drove along trying to follow the signs and got dumped back on I-95 going south. At another exit I got off only to discover there was not an entrance back on going north. It took 4 attempts to find an exit with gas. Of course the gas cost a million dollars a gallon and only served Diet Pepsi. So I got gas and thought I would go to the McDonald’s next door for Diet Coke. But guess what they were out of Diet Coke. Fuck!
This meant that I had to venture off the highway again for a drink. Before you tell me I’m silly. One of the nice things about traveling by yourself is that you can stop when you want, where you want, why you want. And I MUST have Diet Coke from a fountain in the car while I drive. Luckily for me, I crossed the state line into Rhode Island and I was saved.
The rest of the trip was without incident and I finally arrived around midnight. I’ll be here until Wednesday. Oh, and if you guys are wondering why I haven’t posted any pictures of my trip it’s because my relatively new digital camera has bitten the dust. The screen is a mixture of nonsense images of different colors. I’m hoping to get to Best Buy tomorrow to get a new one. If I do, I’ll post some pictures of Maine.
Have a great week.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before on my blog but I hate being late. It causes me great stress to know that I am running late for anything. The importance and relevance of the event doesn’t matter. It could be a doctor’s appointment, a movie, a date, school, work. It doesn’t matter. I’m almost always on time. In fact, I’m almost always early. It’s a very rare occasion when I arrive at the scheduled time. It can be kind of embarrassing when it’s a party and I’m there 15 minutes before the start time. More often than not, I sit in the parking lot and way till an appropriate time to “arrive.”
Over the years I’ve come to realize that everyone else is not this way. And with gay men it’s even worse. I’ve had way too many friends to count that couldn’t be on time if there life depended on it. That being said it annoys me when I’m kept waiting. I’m also annoyed when others don’t appreciate that my time is just as valid as theirs.
For example tonight. I was scheduled to have dinner with my friend Sean and his boyfriend. This had been scheduled all week but I received a phone call from Sean this morning letting me know that he was very ill and letting me know that dinner might have to be postponed. No problem, I completely understood. The message told me to call him at four when he was off work and he would let me know then if dinner was still on. I left a message for him at four and he called back about 10 minutes later. He was feeling much better, so we could still get together around 7:00.
This was great since I had not seen him since I got back to NYC. However, at 6:30 he calls me to let me know that the time would have to be pushed back to 7:30. He doesn’t give an excuse and I don’t ask for one. It was really no big deal. Which would be fine except that at 7:15 just as I’m putting on my coat to leave (the restaurant is just up the street) his boyfriend calls to say it’s going to be 8:00 now. Once again no excuse. Just changing the time.
This completely annoyed me. Luckily I hadn’t left my apartment yet, but still. We agreed on a set time and I planned my schedule accordingly. I know it’s not that big of a deal. But at the time I was completely put out. I agreed to a scheduled time and it’s not that hard to stick with it. Of course I didn’t say anything to them but I was in a bad mood till at least half way through dinner. It finally lifted but I hated that it was issue to begin with.
I’m usually pretty good about just letting it go, but tonight for some reason it just stuck with me. I’m over it now, I’m just sharing with you guys what was going on tonight. I won’t hold it against them, although it’s not the first time they’ve done this. They are nowhere close to being as bad as my friend Arthur in San Diego who is late for everything. One of the last times we went to theatre he showed up at 8:15. The curtain was at 8:00. He had the tickets so I didn’t get to see the show. I had actually already gone when he arrived. I was so angry at the time that it was months before I agreed to do anything with him again. Even now, I schedule our activities with a 30 minute grace period. If he needs to be at dinner at 6:00 I tell him 5:30. I don’t know if he’s caught on, but it’s making it bearable to socialize with him again.
I guess I just need to learn to breathe and let things go. AHHHHHHH!