Space Boy, I Miss You

For the last five years or so, I have been able to speak with my friend Shane almost any time I was online...pretty much at least once a day. For the next two and a half months, however, I will be deprived of this ability, as he and his wife, Erika, will be off touring Europe. It's truly sad to log on to instant messenger and not see Shane or Erika on there. But, they will be off doing what I sincerely believe every person ought to do at least once in his or her life. The summer I spent backpacking through Europe was one of the greatest summers of my life. I have ambitions of doing one more such trip on a bigger scale. Last time, I only visited Germany, Italy, Switzerland and France. I have visions of someday doing a grand voyage entitled "Portugal to Poland" wherein I will attempt to visit every country from Portugal to Poland. We'll see what happens.

Anyway, I won't be able to chat with Shane or Erika for nearly two months. So if anybody wants to serve as my internet buddy for the next two months, let me know.

Speaking of Shane and Erika, tomorrow I am going to be driving down to Vista for a combination graduation party for Shane/going away party for both of them. It's not a surprise party, although Shane likes to pretend that it was and that I ruined the surprise for him. But I specifically asked Erika's mom if it was a surprise party and she said no. So there.

This weekend in Las Vegas was a lot of fun. I left here at about 1:00 in the afternoon on Friday and, after making the obligatory stop at In N Out Burgers in Barstow, arrived at Rick and Jessica's house at approximately 6:00. Traffic on the I-15 was pretty bad. Particularly considering that they are currently in the middle of a freeway widening project. It will be a good thing once it is completed, as the two-lane freeway is pretty irritating. However, the immediate effect is that the drive is currently more inconvenient and unsafe than it ever has been before. Especially since most of the temporarily rerouted freeway is divided with those makeshift cement walls as opposed to an actual median. I saw quite a few accidents on the way up there...mostly just fender benders, as people seemed unused to the continual braking that is no doubt a result of the many unsafe bends and curves on the rerouted freeway.

But, I digress. Rick seemed fairly glad to see me. He had no idea that I was coming, and also had no clue about the surprise party that was held for him on Saturday at Red Rock Canyon. I didn't know too many people at the party. There were a few of his friends I had met before but, much to my chagrin, I think most of them remembered me better than I remembered them. But I guess it's easier for a group of people in Nevada to remember one person from California than it is for one person from California to remember a group of people from Nevada.

I left Las Vegas on Sunday at around noon, after attending a service at Rick and Jessica's church. The drive home was not as irritating as the drive up there, but I did spend the time pondering many of my driving pet peeves.

The thing that bothers me the most are eighteen wheelers. Now, I realize that these huge monstrosities are an essential component of interstate commerce. However...if it were up to me, they would be confined to the far right lane at all times. In fact, if I ever become Supreme Dictator of the Known Universe, that will be my first proclamation. I will forbid all eighteen wheelers from ever driving in any lane other than the slow lane. They will not be permitted to leave that lane for any reason. If there is a slower vehicle in front of them...oh well. They must learn to deal with it. I realize that this proclamation will not be popular among the Teamsters but labor unions will no longer have any influence once I become Supreme Dictator of the Known Universe.

The second most irritating thing relates to out of state drivers. Now, let me clarify that I am not referring to drivers from Nevada, Arizona or any other state that can be included in the Brotherhood of Western States. Seeing them on our glorious California freeways does not bother me in the least...since they routinely allow us to use theirs. However, when I see some inbred moron from North Dakota driving 55 miles per hour in the fast lane, it's enough to make me want to run them off the road.

At the very least, I would like to be able to pull them over and say, as politely as possible, "Sir (or madam, as the case may be), if you would be so kind as to notice that the signs on the side of the road say 70 miles per hour. Further, I would like to inform you that even 70 mph is far too slow for the fast lane. You must understand that most of us see that as more of a suggestion. Now, please...get the hell out of my state."