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Jan. 12th, 2007 06:06 pmI swear, Chattanooga drivers are the worst drivers I've ever seen. And I've lived in Boston. And San Francisco.
In Boston, driving was a sport. Granted, it was just barely not a contact sport (when done correctly *g*), but there was skill involved that you could appreciate once you were safely home and had had a drink and let your heart rate get back to normal.
San Francisco drivers are likely to attempt to merge with your car because they do not realize anyone exists on the planet but them, but once you get that, it's easy enough to deal with.
The jerkwads on the road here? I don't know what's wrong with them. I was just listening to some bozo's progress through the twisty streets near my house by the alternating engine revving and brake squealing. On the freeways they go either 80 or 40, and you never know until you get near them which they're gonna do. Craziness.
On a happier note, I'm reading Enchanted, Inc. by Shanna Swendson, and enjoying it very much. The Amazon reviews call it saccharine and fluffy, but I'm laughing so much I haven't minded that it's a bit twee. There's nothing wrong with twee when it's done well. In fact, I was made very happy by a bit of confounding expectations done well. The writer gave the reader the clues to figure something out, and two paragraphs later the heroine figures it out too. None of the drawing it out for a big reveal later that I was half-afraid of; it was just a nice plot point handled well. Hurrah!
In Boston, driving was a sport. Granted, it was just barely not a contact sport (when done correctly *g*), but there was skill involved that you could appreciate once you were safely home and had had a drink and let your heart rate get back to normal.
San Francisco drivers are likely to attempt to merge with your car because they do not realize anyone exists on the planet but them, but once you get that, it's easy enough to deal with.
The jerkwads on the road here? I don't know what's wrong with them. I was just listening to some bozo's progress through the twisty streets near my house by the alternating engine revving and brake squealing. On the freeways they go either 80 or 40, and you never know until you get near them which they're gonna do. Craziness.
On a happier note, I'm reading Enchanted, Inc. by Shanna Swendson, and enjoying it very much. The Amazon reviews call it saccharine and fluffy, but I'm laughing so much I haven't minded that it's a bit twee. There's nothing wrong with twee when it's done well. In fact, I was made very happy by a bit of confounding expectations done well. The writer gave the reader the clues to figure something out, and two paragraphs later the heroine figures it out too. None of the drawing it out for a big reveal later that I was half-afraid of; it was just a nice plot point handled well. Hurrah!
