Holidailies/World AIDS Day 2008

So I signed up for Holidailies again, and this year they are starting late -- Friday, to be exact. I'm hoping I can get a few entries in between now and then so I can get into the swing of things.

Today is World Aids Day, and I still feel the same way as I did last year. Things are still bleak in Africa, despite strides to help, and the problem isn't so much that we don't want to or don't have the money; it's that the help has no way to get to the people who need it most. Here at home, gay men are still the most at-risk population for new infection, and yet, we refuse to give them the right to commit to healthy, monogamous relationships in the eyes of the state.

I feel slightly more hopeful because we have a new President who will be inaugurated a few short weeks after I give birth, and with that change comes hope.

I still plan to give this year, I wore my red ribbon and a red shirt today in solidarity. I hope one day that it's in celebration of the defeat of the disease.

Remember. Fight. Love.

Grateful

I give grateful thanks for the following things:

A healthy babe.




A beautiful Girl.



The most fantastic Boy on the planet.



Family, forever and always.









Friends new and old.







The gift of education.



And the countless blessings which I enjoy on a daily basis. Make no mistake, I am a richly blessed woman. Happy Thanksgiving to all, and may you all have as much to give thanks for as I.

"Lord, for the erring thought
Not into evil wrought:
Lord, for the wicked will
Betrayed and baffled still;
For the heart from itself kept,
Our thanksgiving accept."

-- William Dean Howells

Too Much Spongebob, or How I Spent John Mayer's 31st Birthday

The Girl has a four-day weekend starting today, and I have no school this weekend! Full of win.

I had a doctor's appointment today. Officially, I'm 28 weeks, and in my third trimester. This pregnancy has flown -- on one hand I feel like I've been pregnant forever, but on the other hand, the past 28 weeks or so have been some of the best of my life. I'm in such a good place right now... school is (mostly) under control, the Girl is thriving in Kindergarten, I'm healthy, and I've dealt with so much crap in the last year that I think it's time to take some time for myself and sit back and enjoy.

Yes, this time of year is rough on me. I have had so many bad things happen during the cycle of Libra, which is really strange considering it is normally a time of balance. Perhaps I'm supposed to get my bad out now, in order to balance the good and Awesome that happened this summer? Karma can be a bitch, if you believe in her I guess.

Anyway, I plan to do some school work this weekend, but I also plan to camp out with the girl, watch too much damned Spongebob, bake some banana bread and catch up on laundry, and generally chill.

Today, we did just that. Except the part where we went to the OB's office. The Girl was thrilled -- she's beyond excited for this new baby and she loved the idea that she could go and hear the baby's heartbeat. I also had to take my glucose challenge test, which should frankly be against the law for its grossness and disgust. (Come in early after fasting 3+ hours, drink 5 oz of nasty flat cola soda without bubbles, go see the OB, come back, get blood drawn and pee in a cup, await result.)

The idea is to see if you have either developed or have the possibility to develop gestational diabetes, which can be bad bad bad if undiagnosed. Ironically enough, I purposely scheduled this appointment on the 16th, because I knew I wouldn't forget it if it was on JM's birthday. Such is the life of a fangirl.

In case anyone's interested, the appointment by the numbers:

Fetal HR: 150 (rock steady at this rate since we first caught it. This kid is nothing if not consistent).
Fundal Height: 32cm (appx 3-4 weeks ahead, again consistent)
BP: 130/65 (top number high most likely because the lab monkeys had their heads up their asses, and it got me riled up)
Weight: +3 since last appt, +10 total pregnancy.


In other news, looks like JM is back with his last girlfriend. I actually think they are pretty good together...they just have to work out a timeline that's good for both of them. I really hope if they decide to have kids together they decide to move someplace quiet -- this latest brouhaha with the police escort in front of his house is just too much to put a kid through. I also hope her ego is strong enough to handle living somewhere like NYC or another place where nobody cares who they are. I do wonder if her ego is feeding some of the crap, but I don't know her personally. He seems to have no problems slipping back and forth between the public and the private, and it's nice to go a few weeks without seeing a picture of him at dinner. I love it when he gets a week of positive publicity for spending time teaching class and mentoring music students at Berklee. If I had a birthday wish for JM this year, it would be to be happy and be in love, but make it all about the music.

Happy Birthday, John.

A Moment of Beauty

This made me cry this morning, during a study break.

No Language Required

We are waiting for the notoriously slow elevators at St. Vincent’s after one of my checkups. Standing next to us is a nurse, a new baby, the new mom, and a couple of her friends. The new mom doesn’t speak English, so her friends translate what the nurse is saying. It is an exciting day; they are taking the new baby home.

When the elevator finally arrives, we all step inside, and I cannot stop looking at the little baby, fast asleep in the carseat, tiny and pink and perfect.

The mom notices me noticing her baby, so I give her a smile. Congratulations.

Her eyes flick to my belly and she smiles back. Good luck.

Eastsidegirl is due any day now. I love her writing, and so should you. Best of luck to her.

Faith and Sex and God (and Banana Bread)

That's what we talked about this afternoon. I also baked two loaves of banana bread and the house smells heavenly right now. And the boy is happy to know that they are for US and not for Other People. (Apropos of nothing, the grocery store had lovely purpley pink roses on sale, and they are sitting next to me on the dining room table, also smelling heavenly.)

Adam stayed over last night and he's staying again tonight to save gas and get a bit of studying done before heading back north to hearth and wife. We finished class last night and had a lovely bit of conversation, and this morning, after I took the girl to school, we talked most of the morning on a number of subjects ranging from potty training to labor to the "boxers or briefs" question. I don't think I've had quite as much good conversation in a long time - but Adam is not only intelligent, he is well spoken and as such, knows how to argue constructively.

(He's also an ace houseguest, not only because he pitched in and Swiffered my kitchen floor but also because he bought me lunch at the Chinese buffet while we waited for his car to have four new tires installed.)

One of the things we discussed at length was faith and religion. Adam is a fairly confirmed atheist, whilst I, a fallen Catholic of the highest order, maintain a Christian faith. The thing I loved about our discussion was that it was not passionate - it was quite logical and philosophical, bordering on intellectual. We weren't trying to convince each other of our individual veracity - merely that we had divergent views and that those views could coexist. I told him that I thought he was a better Christian than most Christians I know, due to his sensitivity and caring - he is the sweetest guy on the face of the Earth and I can't imagine a more giving and gracious person.

I told him I thought that faith needed to be coupled with good works and a well-examined life. Living your parents' faith isn't living, unless you've determined that it is your faith as well and you can defend it. And even then, a constant questioning must arise - when you become complacent in your faith is when you have no faith at all.

Our discussion also reminded me of an old song by XTC. Here's a Youtube link, and the lyrics:

Dear God,
I hope you got the letter, and I pray you can make it better down here.
I don't mean a big reduction in the price of beer, but all the people that you made in your image, see them starving on their feet 'cause they don't get enough to eat from God
I can't believe in you

Dear God,
Sorry to disturb you, but I feel that I should be heard loud and clear.
We all need a big reduction in amount of tears and all the people that you made in your image, see them fighting in the street 'cause they can't make opinions meet about God
I can't believe in you

Did you make disease, and the diamond blue? Did you make mankind after we made you? And the devil too!

Dear God,
Don't know if you noticed, but your name is on a lot of quotes in this book, and us crazy humans wrote it, you should take a look, and all the people that you made in your image still believing that junk is true. Well I know it ain't, and so do you, dear God, I can't believe in...

I don't believe in...I won't believe in heaven and hell.
No saints, no sinners, no devil as well.
No pearly gates, no thorny crown.
You're always letting us humans down.
The wars you bring, the babes you drown.
Those lost at sea and never found, and it's the same the whole world 'round.
The hurt I see helps to compound that Father, Son and Holy Ghost is just somebody's unholy hoax, and if you're up there you'd perceive that my heart's here upon my sleeve.

If there's one thing I don't believe in it's you....dear God.

Since Last We Spoke...

...I survived my finals. Nowhere near a knock-out-of-the-ballpark, but I feel somewhat better about them than I did last semester. And now begins the waiting game - horrible to feel that uneasy queasiness in your feeling, for a good month.

...I am officially a rising 2L. That feels SO good. There is no station lowlier in life (beyond that of "freshman" in any circumstance) than that of a 1L. We hear all the time how life gets easier second year, and yet, we also hear how we will yearn for the easy days of Contracts and Torts. I don't think I will ever yearn for Contracts - sorry, Professor B.

...I turned 31. I had a fantastic birthday, courtesy of the boy and my law school besties. My SIL got me two tabloids with JM on the cover and a book. Yay for printed reading material!! We celebrated with a bowling party - something I've always wanted to do but never had the opportunity. Jon (and the lovely and talented Julia), Sooz, Kate, Derek, SIL, the boy and the girl all came out and rolled like The Big Lebowski. Good thing it wasn't Shabbos. Derek even ordered a White Russian in honor of the evening's theme.



...I celebrated Mother's Day. The girl was wonderful enough to wish me a very happy one, and the boy was kind enough to wrangle her so I could have a (relatively) peaceful morning before heading off to school for our last study session and final. It was a lovely spring Minnesota morning - just a touch of chill in the early morning air, but the sun was high and warm, and I had a smile on my face. Not much better than that.



After my final, most of the kids went on the party bus that had been rented for our after-1L debauchery. However, Kate and I chose to stay behind and head back to Casa Thompson for some pizza, R&R and Rock Band. It was all good.

...The girl had her preschool spring program. She was the narrator for her class, and she stood, dressed in one of her finest spring frocks, at the lecturn in the church, spoke clearly and slowly into the microphone and read The Very Hungry Caterpillar whilst her classmates acted out the book's actions. It was terribly cute and I was so amazingly proud of her - she's had her daddy's shy streak for ages and this was the first inclination I've had that she's got a touch of the outgoing. She basically memorized the book but she did it without any prompting from her teacher.

...JM got himself a new girlfriend. This one probably has the highest profile of all of them - and this is new territory because he is 9 years younger than she. He's always dated younger women, and by appearances, always seemed to be the more dominant personality in the relationship. Not that the women he's dated are wet noodles by any means - but this one is older, more experienced, and seems to know exactly what she wants. I think this might be what he needs - he's young and coltish, but he's been very public about his desire for a wife and family, and given his background, it's no surprise. I think if he falls hard enough, she might be the one to kick his ass and get him to settle down. I also think that if it's going to happen, it'll happen pretty quickly since she doesn't have kids and when you're 39, I'm told you can feel your ovaries shriveling.

...The Summer of Awesome has officially kicked off. As I write this, I am sitting at my mother's house in the hometown, the girl has had breakfast and I'm headed up to take a shower, and then go shopping. We arrived last night and I got to see Jordana for a bit, and I'm just relaxing. I think I'm going to head down to the lake today for some rejuvenation, and then the girl and I are going to just do some serious goofing off. We'll head home after the weekend - I have a feeling I will miss the boy too much if I stay any longer.

Next up? Phoenix, then Theories of Conflict for four days. In the meantime, spring cleaning the house - I'm going to try and reclaim another couple areas of the house. I'm also going to go through all the girl's clothes and thin the herd. (And trust me, it's a herd worth thinning. The child has more clothes than the law allows, and has since before she was born.)

Something Private

Not really apropos to post something private on a public blog on the Internet, I suppose...but I have a private thought in my head, and a private feeling in my gut that I want to remember, so I'm leaving myself this reminder.

Time: 12:44PM
Date: Monday, March 31, 2008
Weather: Snowy and slippery. The roads are bad right now.
Clothing: white stretchy v-neck long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, barefoot
Hair: ponytail
Song in my head: "Still" - Matt Nathanson

Sometimes snowy days bring unexpected warmth and happiness. Sometimes you just have to take 20 minutes out of your day to experience it. It makes going back out into the cold that much better.

He Is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!

Now upon the first day of the week very early in the morning, they came unto the sepulcher, bringing the spices which they had prepared; and certain others were with them. And they found the stone rolled away from the sepulcher. And they entered in and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments. And as they were afraid and bowed down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, "Why seek ye the living among the dead! He is not here, but is risen! Remember how He spoke unto you when He was yet in Galilee saying, `The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and the third day rise again.' And they remembered His words, and returned from the sepulcher and told all these things unto the eleven and to all the rest.

It was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James, and other women who were with them, who told these things unto the apostles. And their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not. Then arose Peter and ran unto the sepulcher; and stooping down, he beheld the linen cloths laid by themselves. And he departed, wondering to himself at that which had come to pass.

Luke 24:1-12

Good Friday: Luke 23: 28-46 (NKJV)

But Jesus, turning unto them, said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are coming in which they shall say, `Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore and the breasts which never gave suck.' Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, `Fall on us!' and to the hills, `Cover us!' For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?"

And there were also two others, malefactors, led with Him to be put to death. And when they had come to the place which is called Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand and the other on the left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." And they parted His raiment and cast lots.


And the people stood beholding. And the rulers who were also with them derided Him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he be Christ, the chosen of God." And the soldiers also mocked Him, coming to Him and offering Him vinegar and saying, "If thou art the king of the Jews, save thyself." And a superscription also was written over Him in letters of Greek and Latin and Hebrew: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.

And one of the malefactors who was hanged railed against Him, saying, "If thou be Christ, save thyself and us!" But the other answering rebuked him, saying, "Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds. But this Man hath done nothing amiss."

And he said unto Jesus, "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom." And Jesus said unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, today shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." And it was about the sixth hour, and there was a darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst. And when Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, He said, "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." And having said thus, He gave up the ghost.

Feminism, Or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Club Music

Feminist political activists have been concerned with issues such as a woman's right of contract and property, a woman's right to bodily integrity and autonomy (especially on matters such as reproductive rights, including the right to abortion, access to contraception and quality prenatal care); for protection from domestic violence; against sexual harassment and rape; for workplace rights, including maternity leave and equal pay; and against other forms of discrimination.

-Wikipedia

I was looking over there at my list. You know the one - up in the top corner. Starts off "woman, wife, mother..." These are the labels I apply to my life. A few of them I was born with or was given without option. Others I chose to apply to myself. Some of them are as much a part of me as my name; others are more fluid, likely to change.

One label that I've put upon myself is that of "feminist." It's up there - right between "liberal" and "Democrat."

The word "feminist" conjures different images for different people. My mother might tell me a feminist was a woman who read W Magazine, worshipped Gloria Steinem and burned her bra. I think "feminist," for me, simply means supporting women's rights, responsibilities and endeavours. I think it's entirely too politicized; just because I call myself a feminist doesn't mean I burn Phyllis Schlafly in effigy (though it's tempting...) and please, don't get me started on Ann Coulter. (Revoke women's right to vote? Are you nuts??)

However, the reason I'm writing about this particular label, or issue, is because I fell in love with a song. It was innocent enough; I was flipping channels and I heard a snippet on VH1 of a video by Flo Rida and T-Pain. The song is called "Low."

Confession time: I'm a dancer. Not really...I love to go to a club and dance my ass off. Give me a few appletinis and some diggety grooves, and you have Fun Kate. Toss a pair of boot cut jeans on my hips, a cute top that accentuates the twins, and a pair of fun shoes (high heel boots in the winter, party heels or sparkly flip flops in the summer) and you have Club Girl Kate. CGKate only comes out to play every now and again; Real World Kate has a kid and a husband, and so she only lets CGKate loose on rare occasions. About once a year, usually.

Now - it's been a long long LONG time since I last went out on the town (it was actually last summer for Jordana's bachelorette party - and maaaaaaan was that a fun night...) So...this particular song, paired with the pix from the Mayercraft Carrier of JM buying Patron shots for a couple dozen lucky fans at the ship disco... makes me wanna go out!

So what do these things have to do with each other?

Rap and hip-hop music have often spoken of women in negative images; they are very often unnecessarily vulgar and misogynistic. I am a sucker for a catchy beat though, and can put up with a certain limit without feeling like I'm betraying my grrrls. I think rappers are generally concerned with putting out product people will buy. From what I've been told, the hip-hop crowd is fickle, and today's #1 is tomorrow's has-been. You make your money and move on.

So. "Low." The beat hooked me - the song's got a serious club groove. The other thing I love about it is there's no swear words. Plenty of urban-speak, but that's expected. However, I looked up the lyrics, then went to the Urban Dictionary and started looking up some of the terms...and decided some analysis was in order.

In the song, Flo and T talk about a "shawty," or woman, who is wearing Apple Bottom jeans and fur-trimmed boots, doing a booty-slapping dance and getting "low." In rap-speak, "gettin' low" means one of two things: getting low to the ground, as in a serious bump-n-grind, or having sex with multiple partners. From the rest of the lyrics, it sounds like she's holding herself out as a stripper/prostitute, and Flo pays for her services, and is satisfied.

So...is it anti-feminist of me to get my groove on to a song that celebrates prostitution? I don't know - I don't think so. Ultimately, if a woman isn't a sex slave, or actively chooses to engage in the behavior described in the song, the song isn't necessarily misogynistic. I've certainly gotten down on the dance floor, and while I have no personal experience or interest in prostitution, I know that when I'm dancing in a club, under the dark lights and a bass beat ripping through my chest, slightly hazy on alcohol and a hundred sweaty bodies moving every which way around me, I feel sexy. And there's nothing more feminist than a sexy and empowered woman.

Despite some of the lyrics, I'm going to chalk it up to a good club/workout song, and visualize myself on the Mayercraft next year in a pair of size 14 Apple Bottoms, shooting Patron and dancing my ass off til sunrise.

Check it out, and choose for yourself.

Shawty had them Apple Bottom Jeans, Boots with the fur
The whole club was lookin at her
She hit the flo, Next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low
Them baggy sweat pants and the Reeboks with the straps
She turned around and gave that big booty a smack
She hit the flo, Next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low

I ain't never seen nuthin' that'll make me go this crazy all night spendin my dough
Had a million dollar vibe and a bottle to go
Dem birthday cakes, they stole the show
So sexual, she was flexible, professional, drinkin X and O
Hold up wait a minute, do i see what I think I whoa
Did I think I seen shorty get low
Ain't the same when it's up that close
Make it rain, I'm makin it snow
Work the pole, I got the bank roll
Imma say that I prefer them no clothes
I'm into that, I love women exposed
She threw it back at me, I gave her more
Cash ain't a problem, I know where it goes

Hey, Shawty what I gotta do to get you home
My jeans full of gwap and they ready for Shones
Cadillacs Maybachs for the sexy groan
Patron on the rocks that'll make you moan
One stack (come on), two stacks (come on)
Three stacks (come on, now that's three grand)
What you think I'm playin baby girl
I'm the man, I'll bend the rubber bands
That's what I told her, her legs on my shoulder
I knew it was ova, that Henny and Cola got me like a soldier
She ready for Rover, I couldn't control her
So lucky me, I was just like a clover, Shorty was hot like a toaster
Sorry but I had to fold her, like a pornography poster she showed her

Whoa shawty, yea she was worth the money
Lil mama took my cash, and I ain't want it back
The way she bit that rag, got her them paper stacks
Tattoo of bubba cray, I had to handle that
I was on it, sexy woman, let me showin
They be want it two in the mornin
I'm zonin in them rose' bottles foamin
She wouldn't stop, made it drop Shawty did that pop and lock,
Had to break her off that gwap, it was fly just like my glock

Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the fur
The whole club was lookin at her
She hit the flo, next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low
Them baggy sweat pants and the Reeboks with the straps
She turned around and gave that big booty a smack
She hit the flo, next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low

C'mon

Honesty, Defined

Go read this article.

Then go find your spouse, significant other, boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, lover and/or companion, and hold tight.

Then go to your local bookseller and buy the book on February 18.

Le iPod Est Mort, Vive Le iPod

So...about that karmic payback.

After a couple days of dethaw, an intense charging and a lot of prayer, my iPod is now able to turn on and play songs. The screen is beyond fubared, so I can't tell what's playing or how much charge I have...but it plays!

So...the verdict is that I will be getting a new iPod, and will keep this one for working out and toting places that I might need some tunes but might otherwise hesitate to bring my "good" iPod. Now...what to get??

I'm thinking I'm going to go for the 2nd generation, 8GB version of the Nano. I'm used to the 1st gen and I'm not sure if I want to go for the new 3d gen, because I'd have to get a new holder and stuff...and that's just too damn much work.

Maybe next time around.

Karmic Sacrifice

Writing from the hometown, foolishly brought my civ pro with me thinking I might actually study. Hardy har har!

We arrived yesterday afternoon, and I immediately dropped the boy at his friend's house for the Saturday game. The girl and I proceeded to Mom's for the afternoon, wherein we returned a couple of Christmas gifts to the mall I hung out at as a teenager and then ate at Red Robin (yummm) for dinner.

After dinner, I got a call from Jordana and she and her husband asked me to go swimming at my old gym. Never one to pass up an opportunity to get a good swim in, I jumped at the chance, packing up my gym bag and iPod and heading out for a chlorine-filled evening of fun and sweat.

Upon returning home, I went to pull my iPod out and discovered that it had disappeared. Ransacking, rifling and two frantic phone calls later, still it was nowhere to be found. This morning, I called the gym to ask if it had been turned in, and was met with a negative response. I thought through last night's events, and determined that a quick trip out to the gym was in order.

Sure enough, there my nano lay, having spent the night on the cold, hard, icy-wet ground of the parking lot. Face down. Though encased in neoprene (my arm wrap), the screen appeared to have some strafing and it will occasionally power on, but I can't get it to play or show any data, so I fear that it is a corpse at this point. Fortunately, I have iTunes, and have everything backed up with the exception of a couple of David Ryan Harris live shows, some JM Hotel Cafe live tracks (and I fear for never getting those back) and my beloved Roster McCabe, however that is mostly easily replaced. All the rest of my JM live shows are on my laptop.

So, eBay here I come...on the lookout for a new nano, and maybe I'll upgrade the memory. The old iPod was 2 years old this Valentine's Day, and was, in fact, a V-day present from the boy. It pains me to lose it, mostly because it's a PITA to get everything rebuilt, but at the same time, I'm feeling that this is karmic payback for getting out of the ditch unscathed. Also, I've got a long drive back with no iPod...and my private writing somewhat depends on my music- it's what I'm inspired by and while it can be easily replaced, it's still a royal boo-hoo to have the writing bug bite...and not have the correct mood music with which to propel the word forward.

Things always happen in threes, and I'm waiting for the last shoe to drop...I hope it happens when we get back home and that the sacrifice of the iPod is what it takes for the universe to get me and the fam home safely.

Ditched on Christmas

NB: If you are here from Holidailies, please leave me a comment...I don't have a site tracker and love feedback.

So there I was, minding my own business, behind the wheel of my car. It was Christmas night, around 6:30 or so. The Cranberries were on the radio. I had completed about two hours of driving and was about 45 minutes away from home. We’d gone to the farm to visit the boy’s aunt and uncle, and I had to work the next day, so I drove back alone rather than staying overnight with the rest of the family.

I'd been admonished by no less than four family members to be careful driving, leaving early in order to drive in daylight and avoid driving the rural Minnesota highways in the dark. In fact, I’d gotten in a tiff with the boy over my winter driving skills on the drive out to the farm; he’d insisted that my notorious leadfoot was going to get me in trouble on snow-infested roads. I brushed him off, getting angry and insisting that I’d learned how to drive in the stuff, and having driven in snow for the last 15 years, I knew what I was doing, thankyouverymuch, and if he was going to critique my driving, he might volunteer to do the driving next time.

You know where this is headed, right?

I’d made it back to the outskirts of civilization, noting that I had just passed the turnoff for Ric’s town. (Remember Ric? Filmmaker? Right. Him. Nice guy.) As I came around a curve, I was in my own head, gliding across the road, well below the posted speed limit. Dolores O’Riordan and I were having a grand old time of it, not letting it linger, when I felt the car start to fishtail- the tires had run afoul of something on the road-likely a patch of fresh snow-and before I knew what was going on, I was careening out of control, heading for the opposite lane of traffic. I remember thinking to myself, “Just don’t hit another car, we can’t afford a new one or the insurance hit…”
I think I overcorrected my steering, but whatever happened, I slipped out of control and did a sliding 180 degree turn. I managed to keep the car on the correct side of the road, but ended up facing the wrong way, up to my driver door in a soft bank of snow. In the ditch.

Once I stopped, I performed a quick inventory:
Engine: still running.
Lights: still on.
Seatbelt: engaged.
Driver door: blocked.
Self: okay.

Almost immediately, there were people stopped up on the road, pulling over and approaching the car to ensure my well-being. My phone had been tossed somewhere in the car, and I couldn’t find it, so one of my Good Samaritans called the authorities and a tow wrecker. Another one, whose name was Tom, volunteered to stay with me until the tow truck got there. We chatted for a good twenty minutes, and I found out that he owned four horses and was a former corrections officer. I don’t know why I trusted him; but in my circumstances (woman alone, in a car, in the ditch, at night, bad weather), I had very little choice.

By this time I’d found my cell phone, and I called Ric. I was making contingency plans for rescue; if the car was broken, I would need someone to pick me up, and the family would take a few hours to get to me. I wouldn’t have wanted them to come out anyway, so I planned to stay at Ric’s until they could arrive, likely the next morning given the conditions. I found his number in my phone and hit the green call button.

“Hello?”

“Ric…hey, it’s Kate. Merry Christmas.”

“Hey…you too. What’s going on?”

“Oh, well…I’m in a ditch.”

“You’re what??”

“I put my car in a ditch…kinda close to where you live, I think.” (I described my location and Ric confirmed that his house was nearby.) “So…are you home?”

“Yeah, yeah- I’m home. Looking at adopting another ferret right now.”

“Ah…okay. Well, the wrecker is going to be here in a bit, but if we get the car out and it’s busted, would you be able to come get me?”

“Yeah, of course. Just let me know…I’ll keep my phone close by. Just let me know what you need, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Ric…sorry to bug you on Christmas.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Just hope everything turns out for you.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back once I know what’s going on. Thanks again, Ric.”

Once the wrecker showed up to haul me out, Tom left, and I shook his hand through the open passenger window. I wish I had his full name or address or anything, so I could send him a proper thank you. I’m about as resilient as most Midwestern girls, but I know the difference between bravado and safety, and Tom helped me stay calm and keep a good attitude throughout the whole ordeal.

Once I was hooked up, the wrecker dude coached me on how to turn my wheels, when to put it in drive and cued me to goose it up the hill as he pulled with the tow cable and then drove forward. He was assisted by two police cars, which were kind enough to block traffic so that the wrecker could do his job. I found out the wrecker dude’s name was Shane, and since he was kind enough to spend his Christmas hauling me and other motorists out of our vehicular mishaps, I tipped him an extra 10% above the tow bill. I'm also going to send a note to the tow company, complimenting Shane on a job well done. I hope his boss buys him a beer or something; he looked like the kind of guy who should have a beer bought for him every once in awhile.

The car seemed to drive fine, so I continued on my way home, calling Ric back to let him know that his (most appreciated) services would not be needed that evening. We chatted for awhile about school and Christmas doings, and what we planned to do for the rest of our break. By this time I was on the interstate headed toward home, and I knew I’d make it home without further incident.

I made the decision not to tell the boy or the family about putting the car in the ditch until tonight at dinner. I didn’t want them to worry and since things had turned out in the best possible manner given the situation (seriously- spinout, into the ditch, no injuries to person, vehicle or object? Damn good.) The family was obviously slightly fermisched that I waited to tell them, but as there was nothing to be done and all was well, the boy agreed that I’d exercised good judgment where that decision was concerned.

I also decided that the next time I see a car in the ditch, I will be one of the kind souls to stop and check the driver, call the cops and stay until the wrecker got there. A ten percent tip to the tow wrecker guy only goes so far in your karmic payback, no?