President's Day

So I survived my first solo road trip. I loved it! I had a wonderful time, caught up with some great friends, and did a boat-load of laughing. What fun.

I didn't get lost going down there and I only had to make one U-turn on the search for my friend's apartment. Score for me.

Here are some funny things I saw while driving down to Tampa:

• The inevitable "Daytona or Bust" sign on a Camaro
• A guy in a tricked out car being pulled over by the cops ... and it wasn't much more than two miles before that when he passed me going approximately Mach 12. Karma is so fun.
• A huge, totally fancy RV (like the ones they show on the Travel Channel) towing a helicopter. Yes, a helicopter. A huge, totally fancy RV towing a small, totally fancy helicopter. Goodness.

And it's President's Day, which means today is the 14th or 15th anniversary of me spending the day in the emergency room because I fell off a subdivision sign while pretending to be a ballerina (I know, I know ...).

And it's the 14th or 15th anniversary of me getting sick all over the CAT-scan machine (and myself) while the doctors tried to see if I had ruptured my spleen. (I told the technician that I didn't feel well. But did he believe me? Obviously not.)

And it's the 14th or 15th anniversary of me realizing that a blown-up surgical glove looks really funny - like a guy with a mohawk. Not funny enough to make my non-ruptured spleen feel better, but still pretty funny.

Ahh, memories.