The other day as I drove down the freeway, a car suddenly left the fast lane and cut across 2 other lanes to reach the upcoming exit. A bold and reckless move. I caught myself saying out loud, “Whoa, that was crazy. I would NEVER do that.” (Although I admit I’ve come close.) And thus an idea was born for my blog. So here’s what I’ll never do…
As you learned from my Boogeyman posting, I’m a fan of murder documentaries. So I know what can happen when someone, especially a lone woman, sticks out her thumb while standing alongside a road, asking a complete stranger to take her somewhere. Seriously? Have these people never heard of the Texas Killing Fields? You might as well be saying, “Hey psychopathic ax-murdering rapist-kidnapper, where ya goin’? Can I come along?”
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying all those who pick up hitchhikers are any of the above. But am I willing to take that chance? I think not. Let it be known I’m not a lucky gambler, the sole reason I avoid casinos. It’s one thing to lose a bundle of cash. But by hitchhiking, I’d inevitably be playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded chamber.
Speaking of death wishes, I’ve tried a lot of things that could be considered adventurous, maybe even dangerous. Or stupid. I’ve jumped from a plane; went gliding; rafted down a class IV river; biked around Lake Tahoe before I was a biker; kayaked alongside Orca whales off British Columbia; camped on a safari in Africa where a hyena slept against our tent; sat mere feet from a towering bull elephant; took up snowboarding at age 58 (not my brightest move); enjoyed hot air ballooning; tried parasailing, and more. But bungee jump? Nuh-uh. Never wanted to. Never will. That’s just crazy.
Since we’re having a sudden rash of thievery in my cute little, normally safe, Leave it to Beaver neighborhood, I thought I’d reprint this posting from 2015.
I’ve been violated.
Let me rephrase that. I feelviolated. And a little stupid, if you want to know the truth. I’m assuming you do since thisisa non-fiction blog. So here’s the scoop:
My vehicle was broken into a couple nights ago. Technically, it was entered without my permission because it was unlocked. That’s the stupid part. Both my cars were unlocked in my driveway.
Scene of the crime
I live in a safe neighborhood, or thought I did, so I got complacent concerning diligence toward thwarting thieves who count on my complacency. But if you’ve ever had someone steal your property, you know how creepy it feels. That’s the violated part.
I don’t know, maybe I watch too many of those true crime programs that feature crazies committing horrendous murders. Or worse, seemingly sane individuals who murder. Not even the gal next door is safe. And that gal could be me. For instance, one night not long ago, I was in my office on my computer around 1:00 a.m. when I heard a car pull up.
As you know, when we’re in a lighted room looking out into the night, we can’t see anyone. But they can see us. Spooky, huh? That night I saw only head and tail lights as the car idled in place for seemingly several minutes. That’s when I imagined the occupant of said car was likely plotting my demise.
Pretending not to notice, I kept typing when I heard the car door slam shut, meaning someone exited the vehicle. Trying to discern what was going on without telegraphing panic, I caught a glimpse of a figure, illuminated by the moonlight, walking up the edge of my lawn toward my house. My heart raced and for a moment I wondered why it is I don’t own a gun. Just then, my home security alarm went off…meaning my 4 dogs went ballistic.
A couple months ago I received a jury duty summons and immediately panic set in. Now don’t get me wrong; I don’t advocate shirking our civic duty. I actually think I’d be a good juror, open-minded and fair. Except, that is, if you’re charged with abusing an animal. In that case, my friend, I’d be the last one you’d want on your jury.
In my 64 1/2 years, I’ve only been summoned 4 times. I have no idea why and hopefully I didn’t just jinx my run of luck. Hey, life is busy and finding time to sit on a 2-week jury would be difficult. There are ferals to be trapped and sterilized, others to be re-homed. But I’m guessing that wouldn’t exactly sway the judge.
You might think this particular post is similar to my “Pet Peeve” posts. But my peeves are totally different than what I find to be ridiculous. Peeves annoy me; ridiculous things baffle and sometimes amuse me. So here are 10 things I can only describe as being simply…