And I Didn't Even Poop My Pants

I finally took the time to go get a haircut and an eyebrow waxing the other day. And God Almighty did I ever need it. The last time I went to a salon was all the way back in March. Lately my hair had become completely rebellious, and my eyebrows were planning a traitorous takeover of my entire face. Back when I lived at home with my mom, I always had my haircut every six weeks. It’s amazing how fast haircuts get dropped when you no longer have time or money. My latest and now former hair dresser kept going on and on about how many split ends I had, how my highlights were falling out, and those eyebrows are so thick. OK, I Get It. I'm Already Ashamed. TOTALLY NOTED.

But the big deal about me going to the salon is that I went by myself. A huge part of my anxiety is concentrated on driving. I'm really not a bad driver, and I was basically ok with driving when I lived in the South (but I did take out a few armadillos-nature’s speed bumps). But I did go out of my way to avoid particular things that bothered me about driving, and this made me worry that I was going to single handily deplete our planet's natural resources. Luckily I had my ever faithful, non-gas guzzling Homer the Honda Civic. But L.A. is not Alabama, and it is like nothing I've ever experienced before (driving wise).

I rarely drive places by myself anymore, and I have become the biggest turd of a passenger when Adam is driving (which is ALWAYS). I predict our imminent death, flinch, cover my eyes, and sometimes find myself tapping the invisible eject button beneath my feet. When we make it home in one piece, I get out of the car and immediately fall on my knees and kiss the ground beneath me (Am I exaggerating? You decide). I find myself thinking that if I were the one in the relationship with me, I would drop myself like a hot potato. But I think Adam is a prince that hopefully sees this as one of my many cute idiosyncrasies (ha).

Adam is not ready to play the part of the old man, sporting the comb over, wearing overalls, and pretending to be interested in what the old betties are gossiping about, so I went to the salon all alone. On the way home, I was face with a choice. I needed to turn left at an extremely busy intersection during rush hour. I understand the mechanics of getting out in the middle of the intersection, and turning left as the light changes to red. I do it all the time. But this was rush hour, and everyone was running red lights & ignoring traffic rules.

I knew I would get stuck in the middle of the intersection for a few extra seconds, momentarily pissing off about 15 lanes of traffic, and risking fatal harm. And to be honest I’ve always wanted to die with a bottle of whiskey in my right hand, and my middle finger extended on my left. So I decided just to wait a few extra seconds for the left hand turn signal instead. No one behind me would be able to turn any sooner even if I had chosen not to wait, I was holding up no one but me!

But the person behind me was not going to stand for this, and started to honk at me. Usually if someone honks at me, I totally poop my pants. But I knew that I had made the right choice, and I decided to not acknowledge this person. I would not look, I would not flinch, and I would make them think that I just had no clue that they were honking at me. In the 15 seconds it took for the green arrow to flash, the person had worked themselves into a frenzy, honking non stop. They couldn't stand the fact that I didn't know they were honking at me. I realized that they were honking at me because they believed me to be an idiot, but actually they were making themselves look like the biggest idiot of all

The entire time I was grinning ear to ear, because in this moment I had all the power. And it felt so very good.