Keep Your Hands and Arms Inside the Car At All Times

Airbags kick ass. One kicked mine earlier today, anyway.

As much as it sucks to get blasted in the face and chest with a horribly stinky, smoky bag of dust at about 200mph (see cars.com article)... well, it beats snapping your neck or cracking your skull on the dashboard, I suppose. And the bruises will make me look tough, especially if I wear anything short of a turtleneck for new year's eve.

I was on my way home from the gym and grocery shopping when I rear-ended someone stopped in the left lane. I had gone around a huge truck, parked in the right lane of traffic, that was blocking my view. Apparently, I was going too fast. It was my first real accident, and it scared the living crap out of me.

Suddenly, this Honda was directly in front of me, completely stopped, and even though I was only going the speed limit, it seemed as if I was barreling along at the speed of sound... until I hit my brakes about 10' before I rammed myself up the Honda's ass.

Then, Mike Tyson punched me in the jaw, my chest caved in, and my car was on fire and filling with rancid smoke. I don't remember unlatching my seatbelt, but I do remember frantically searching for the door handle as I inhaled putrid airbag dust. I was sure I'd suffocate right then and there. When I finally found the handle and opened the door, I stumbled out into the middle of one of the busiest intersections in San Francisco, dazed, shaking, and looking around for the elephant that had evidently sat on my car.

Some nice people were suddenly there. This blond woman was calling from the bus stop... "Are you okay?" I looked at her. What was she saying? "Are you okay?" she repeated? What the hell was she saying? Do I know her? I waved at her and tried to smile. She came over and asked if she should call for help. I nodded dumbly. Where was my phone? (I found it when I got home... under the passenger seat, in a pool of unidentified liquid.) Luckily, she meant to use her own.

I stood there, leaning on my car. Then, walking in little circles, aware only that the left side of my face was numb. I rubbed it. Yep. Totally numb. Oh... I think I'm blocking traffic... should I wait for police or move? Then, there was another woman... blond with a pink streak in her hair. She was trying to lead me out of traffic to sit on the sidewalk, but I wanted to lean on my car some more. I felt it needed me for moral support.

Support. Support. That's a funny word. I wish my hand wasn't so shaky... makes it hard to rub my face.

The second woman was Holly, I think. She was very nice. She asked if it scared me when the airbag went off. I nodded emphatically and asked her, "Did it scare you, too?!" She smiled, perhaps not yet aware that I had no idea what the hell was going on.

It came time to move my car, thanks to the polite urgings of other onlookers, "You have to get that damn car out of the intersection before the train comes!" Ever so sweet. Happy holidays to you, too, my fellow city-dweller. I squashed the smelly airbag down a bit and drove my car to the side of the road just passed the intersection. Holly brought one of my parking lights and handed it to me with an apologetic smile. I hope I said thank you. And I hope I wasn't drooling because my face was still numb.

Police, exchanged information, and niceties... Then, I was on my way. I squashed the airbag down a bit again, and started my car back up. Surprisingly, it looks okay. One smashed headlight, two deployed airbags, three serious windshield cracks. Oh, and several missing parking lights, one of which is now on the floor in the backseat... right next to the rearview mirror, which I'm pretty sure hit me in the head during its dismount.

Luckily, I had regained enough consciousness to remember that I had frozen burritos somewhere among the hodge-podge of spilled groceries that littered my backseat. I dug one out and held it against my jaw as I drove home. I'm sure it was quite a sight... Crumpled car, missing pieces, deployed airbags smoking all over the place, and a smallish woman holding a plastic-wrapped burrito on her face.

Urgent care says I'm not broken, just bruised... and they also threw in that I'm going to really feel like crap tomorrow. Oh, and that I'll likely continue to feel like crap for 7-10 days. Excellent.

Tomorrow, I'm going to take the bus to see if I can find a purple dress for new year's, to accentuate my bruises. I hear that's really hot.

Wal-Mart

I admit it. I went to Wal-Mart with my family today. I was looking for cookie cutters for the kids I counsel. I have so much Play-Doh and nothing fun for them to use to poke holes in it. Target had nothing. Williams Sonoma had 10 cookie cutters for $20. *heavy sigh* So, off to Wal-Mart we went... and on the day after Christmas.

As long as we were there, I checked the toy aisles for small, ethnically diverse dolls for the kids to use in the dollhouse. Kids play out a lot of drama in a dollhouse, and it can shed a lot of light on what they're feeling... but not if the dolls don't look like anyone they know. Therefore, it's been a quest of mine to find dolls of different colors.

Now, I have to admit, I wasn't very surprised that the Wal-Mart in Minnesota was dominated by rather Arian-looking dolls. What had surprised me was my lack of success at finding ethnically diverse dolls in San Francisco. Anyway, there I was in the St. Paul Wal-Mart, looking for dolls of color with my parents.

I found nothing and, discouraged yet again, I looked around at the shoppers and clerks. Somali, Chinese, African American, Native American, Japanese, Mexican, Hmong... I could count on one hand the people I saw in the store who had skin the same color as mine. There was a huge variety of colors, cultures, and styles of dress. I looked back at the doll shelf. Blond hair with blue eyes. Blond hair with green eyes. Red hair with green eyes. Dark hair with blue eyes. Wedding gown, ball gown, holiday gown. Not to mention they were all female. Every single one. There was even a grandma doll. Gray hair with blue eyes. Grandma gown and plastic cat included.

It's disturbing that so many people in our society are so grossly under-represented in the media, in toys, and in our collective consciousness. It makes me want to start a toy company... insidiously place other peoples, other viewpoints, and other ways of seeing the world into the consciousness of children.

UNICEF

United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF) is one of my favorite charities. Being a student, I don't have much extra money laying around to donate to charities, but I do buy their cards and gifts to give to people for the holidays. $.75 for every $1 spent goes directly to the cause.

Click on this link to learn more about what UNICEF does for children all around the world. Also, if anyone out there wants to donate to UNICEF, you can click on this link for their donation page. Happy holidays!

Ocean Beach

The air is so crisp this time of year. It was a sunny day today in San Francisco, and late this afternoon, it struck me that the sunset would likely be quite lovely with the fog rolling in over the ocean. So, instead of going to the gym, I thought I'd take a long walk on Ocean Beach. I go down there often. I could walk there if I thought about the sunset enough in advance. Generally, the urge strikes me at the last minute, and I hop in car and speed down Lincoln Avenue, the eucalyptus green smell of Golden Gate Park blows through my car (the windows are always open when I'm on my way to the sunset). Sometimes, there's a skunky smell or a wood burning smell in there also, but it blows though, and I'm back to the green.

Then, I reach the ocean, park my dented little car, roll up the windows, and step out into the salt mist that is Ocean Beach. By the time I reached the beach today, the air was already glowing pinkish, and the people were small, gray silhouettes against the shiny sand out near the waves. The last surfers carried their boards up the beach and changed into dry clothes behind their hatchbacks. Dogs ran along the water, chasing their people who were chasing their children. Sometimes, there are kite people at Ocean Beach, and I watch their kites duck and bob against the orange sky. There were no kites today, but there were birds floating in the air and perched on the concrete wall... looking at me.

Then there are the car-sitters... people who drive up to the ocean-facing side of the parking lot and watch from their small, little world. I would say that I didn't understand these people who don't want to smell the ocean or listen to the waves... but I have been a car-sitter in the past... on days when I just can't be around people. On days when life is a bit too sad or the music on my radio is a world in itself... and the sunset is the ambiance, not the event.

Today the fog was rolling in. Even the people sitting in their cars... pensive and perhaps longing... smiled a little at the beauty of the sun dipping behind the bank of fog. As the dense cloud moved slowly in toward the shore, the sky all around us turned orange and pink. Several wisps of fog stretched out over the parking lot and changed colors like one of those ambient light fixtures at Sharper Image.

Then, I generally get back in my car, find a good song to represent the mood which I am in, open all the windows again, and cruise home in my little bertmobile, once again, smelling the green.

Sometimes I think this is the best place on earth.

Cold Weather Makes Us Crazy

Earlier today, I had this unbelievable urge to go the mall. Frankly, that's a pretty rare occurrence. It happened when I was driving from my all day workshop back to my house. The sun was out, the air was crisp, and the neighborhood just north of Golden Gate Park smelled like woodsmoke. Aaaahhh. Autumn. I mean, technically, it's winter, but this time of year reminds me of autumn in the midwest.

For some reason, this reminder of my midwestern home in the autumn months sends me hurtling toward the nearest mall each year. So, instead of stopping at home, I took off in the direction of Stonestone Galleria... it's still a mall, it's just a yuppie, San Francisco mall. Luckily, I came to my senses before entering the giant clusterf*ck of a parking lot and decided not to go in. Here is why:
1) No money. Duh.
2) Too many cars.
3) Target is so much better for one-stop shopping!

I continued on to Target, slightly further south. There, I encountered about 4000 people who had the same idea I did. I found a parking spot furthest from the chaos (on purpose) and hiked in to the store. Jingle my bells! I love Christmas shopping! Even if I was only there to get feminine hygiene products and some new pens.

After my fabulous "Christmas shopping" outing, I came home to find my roommate, Claudine, in the kitchen, happily spending her Saturday evening at home... baking! She said it was the cold weather. I like her crazy better than my crazy because she makes a mean bread pudding. Hooray for the cold.