Eleven on the Eleventh of the Eleventh

Today is 11.11.11.

I can't help but flashback to 8.8.88. I was in junior high, and my best friend Christina and I decided to have an eight party. We bought each other eight gifts, had eight things to eat, and I'm not sure what else. We thought we were pretty awesome though. As did the zero boys who were in our life at that time. Correlation?

Nah. We were awesome. And our hair was big and curly. (Hi, Christina!)

I thought I'd spew some random thoughts for your reading pleasure this morning.

You're welcome.

1. I'm up early this morning, having just gotten my boys off on a church youth trip to Independence, Missouri. It's funny to have two old enough to go. Kind of blows my mind how fast the years are flying. I feel like the preschool age lasted like 20 years. Now that they're fun and interesting? Time is flying by at warp speed. Makes me sad.

2. The Remodel is going well. Last night, they FINALLY finished painting the ceiling in the living room, which meant that the Bubble Boy room was dismantled. The two couches in my kitchen have been returned to their rightful place, and it makes everything feel so big. Progress, people.

3. A few days ago, the Husband's company had a dinner at a glass blowing factory where we learned how to manipulate glass that was 2,03950,000 degrees. (Yes, I realize that is not a real number. But I exaggerate to show you just how stinkin' hot it was). We had a long safety seminar where they told us over and over NOT to grab the metal pole with our left hand, as it would take the skin off our hand with the heat. Guess who reached for her pole very first thing? Yeah. Me. Thankfully, the Husband was right there and screamed before I could actually touch it. That could have been bad. And embarrassing.

4. My backyard is covered in leaves and I have ZERO desire to rake them. Seeing as how my two work horses have just spirited off to Independence, it looks like the job may fall to me. Anyone want to do it? I'll pay you five bucks. No? Jerks.

5. I am hungry today. Like REALLY hungry.

6. I think this post just crossed the line and became the worst thing on the internet today. Sorry about that.

7. I am extremely mindful this time of year of what a good place I am in right now physically. I think back to last year -- the pain, the tears, the crippling depression -- and I get teary eyed with gratitude. I do not think I will take my health for granted ever again.

8. Speaking of which, don't you love it when your insurance company overrides your doctor and decides what medication and treatment are appropriate for you? I am thinking I will call their 800 number next time I get a cold or a yeast infection. They seem to know best and will have all the answers for me, right? I'll make sure to especially describe in detail the yeast infection. And definitely to as many male employees as I can get my hands on.

9. I finally got my Christmas card done. This is WAY late in the year for me. I usually have it done and in-hand before Halloween, and have spent days wringing my hands in anxiety. The Husband has just not been home and we've been waiting on him to do the pictures. Though I did consider photoshopping Hugh Jackman or Mr. Darcy in, I felt it could create too much uncertainty and confusion for the children. Now I can rest easy. And it's going to be spectacularly awesome, if I do say so myself.

9. Yes, I realize I'm crazy. No, I don't care. In truth, it's the rest of you who are crazy. Waiting until after Thanksgiving to think about your Christmas card? Gives me hives. Oh, the horror.

10. A few weeks ago, I got the new iPhone and I have to say that Siri has changed my life. It makes texting and driving so easy. You push the big button on the front, tell it with your mouth who to text and what to say, and bam! your text is sent. No one has to die! I set verbal reminders for myself all day long, then go back to my little checklist and cross them off. You all need to get it. It's brilliant. (For the record, I never texted and drove before.)

11. And that's it! Happy Eleven Eleven Eleven. Send a little prayer up for those who keep this country safe. Also? Pray that I provide you a better blog post next time. This is absolute crap.

Inquiring minds want to know

I have two quick questions for you today:

1. Do you think there is enough protein in a piece of cake to justify it as a snack after a session with the trainer? I'm going to say yes. But only because I already ate it.

2. Is anyone else as obsessed with Les Miserables as I am right now? After Annie's post, a frantic text from my brother about the 25th Anniversary concert on PBS, and a phone call from a sister-in-law in Idaho who gets better broadway right now than I do, I just can't get enough of it. I have it on constantly in the car, I am losing hours watching videos on You Tube, and I finally just gave up and ordered my own copy of the concert from Amazon. I love it. It still makes me cry, even after all these years.

It also makes me feel old. I remember when it first came out. TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO. Yikes.

And someday if when I get to heaven, I am going to demand that my voice sound JUST. LIKE. THIS.



That is all. Happy Wednesday.

Inquiring minds want to know

Totally random, but there are some questions that have been rattling around this empty head of mine all week, and I am looking to the wise internet for answers.

You know, instead of putting my soft-core p@rn dreams out there for you to interpret. (Really, internet? Hugh Jackman? Really? I just don't get it. But then again all I can picture him as is the wolf man from Xmen. Never saw Australia. Maybe that would help?)

ANYhoo, onto the pressing questions of the day.

Why is it, no matter how hard I try, can I never divide my bread dough evenly? Is there a special tool out there that would ensure my loaves are the same size? I realize the discrepancy is small, but for this OCD brain, it hurts just a little every time I look at it. I have to stop myself from slicing the bottom of the smaller loaf off when it comes out of the oven.

Yes, I am diseased. No, I do not care.

Anyone have any answers for this one? A scale? A dough measurer thingie? I need something.

And then I can work on peace in the middle east.

Second, WHY can I put shirts like this in the washer with bleach and the colored writing on them comes out fine?

And shirts like this in the washer with bleach come out with all the letters bleach-ified? Why does bleach NOT affect some things and totally destroy others?

Inquiring minds want to know.

(These letters used to be dark blue. Now they are a manly shade of pink. Which totally makes my self-conscious middle school boy happy, I'm sure. And yet the rest of the lettering remains unharmed. What the eff?)

And last, but not least, why are there not seat belts on school buses? Do not tell me it is because the 60 children on the bus are actually safer without them. I've seen those buses barrel down the streets, and those kids are standing, kneeling, jumping, twisted around, and sitting every which way but forward. I am literally sick at the what ifs should the unthinkable happen.

Something tells me it has a lot to do with the thing they call money, and that bothers me a whole lot. After all, look at the precious cargo being hauled around every day:

That angel face is at least worth the cost of a seat belt. Don't you think?

Give me your best answers so I can sleep at night and dream about Ben Affleck the Husband in peace, will you?

Sleep, mountings, and a diet coke keg

I did not get to bed last night until four-in-the-freaking-a.m.

Yeah, I was partying like I am a twenty-something starlet with my peeps.

(Only we were all moms, and I believe most of us were wearing underwear. Except maybe Lori. She's kind of wild like that).

So, actually, I was partying like a thirty-something mom who has not seen her best girls for far too long.

And then the phone rings at the unholy hour of 8:28-in-the-freaking-a.m. It was the Husband, checking in and (really) calling to ensure that no one sleeps in around here.

Lord help me, I love that man, but he has no respect for the sleep in.

I have loads to do today, most of which involve sitting myself down at the pool with a book, though I doubt I will manage to keep my eyes open for even that. Thank heavens for lifeguards.

But before my head hits the desk in a sudden fit of sleep, I do need to address your burning questions about the photo mounting.

And, really, you flatter me. There are a lot of things I am capable of doing, but successfully mounting my own prints is not one of them. I would have no desire to even try.

[Is it just me or does that last paragraph sound kind of dirty? No? Nevermind.]

My secret weapon is my fabulous pro printhouse. I use them for everything. Their work is truly amazing. You will need to have a basic knowledge of Photoshop to order your prints, as you need to upload them in a specific PS format, but their quality is superb. If you are ever in need of any large-sized prints (or small sized, really) these folks are the way to go. They offer print mounting on a variety of substances for a very reasonable price. I've tried every type and have yet to find one that I do not love. They are awesome.

There. That is all. Off to tap a diet coke keg in hopes of making it until lunch time.

Happy Friday.

The one in which she returns from the dead to delight (and bore) you once again

Tap, tap, tap...

Is this thing on?

Anybody still out there? I cannot believe it has been ten days since I visited this little blog of mine. I don't think I've gone that long without blogging since, well, never.

What have I been doing?

Well, I have found myself inundated with photo shoots. Be sure to check my photo blog in the next few days to see some of the fabulous sessions I've had lately. I can't tell you the joy it is to be so busy you can barely find time to get it all in.

I've also taken a little road trip with my kiddos, my cousin, her children, and a car full of candy - pictures to come later this week. (Of the kids. Not the candy).

I have been busy working on a how-to post for the Divine Miss M. (Marta, that is. Though I'd just as happily do anything for Bette, should she ever call. Hi Bette! Loved you in Beaches!)

I have been recovering from a nasty summer cold that stole my energy, my voice, and pretty much my will to live.

I have been juggling (not very gracefully, mind you) motherhood, laundry, work, kids, and the Husband. Life just seems to have hopped a runaway train this summer, and there's no stopping it now.

Anyway, it's good to be back. I've missed you peeps.

And now, deep thoughts...

Some random thoughts before I dash off to take the middle child to the orthodontist (exciting life that I lead, yes):

Right now, I am head-over-heels in love with Glee. Musical numbers, tap dancing, fabulous singing guest stars, and the hilariously two-faced Sue Sylvester. I am smitten and cannot wait to hop on the treadmill every Wednesday morning for my weekly dose. If I could marry the show and have singing, dancing Glee babies - I would. Oh yes. I love it that much.

My friend Jackie and I used to talk about the music we liked to work out to. I told her then, and it still rings true today, that if you judged my iPod playlists, you would think I was a 50-year-old gay man. All the musicals, Streisand, and Barry Manilow you can cram in there, baby.

LOOOOVVE it.

Also, remember a while back when I was looking for my motivation? Well, I found her. She snuck up on me and yelled SURPRISE!! really loud in the dressing room at the mall this morning while I was [ack!] trying on swimsuits. Though I am happy she is back, I do wish she'd come sooner. You know, seeing as how summer starts in like two weeks and these thighs are most certainly not fit to be seen by the general public.

Mucho apologies to the people who live in my town and will be witness to this parade of cellulite soon.

Also, anyone have acrylic nails? I have them and had two break halfway down the nail bed in the last week. My regular girl was out of town, and I do not think her replacement was up to the job.

There is nothing more tortuous than the pain of having to get that fixed. First they have to take off the old nail. You know, the one that's super-glued to your real nail, which broke in half, tearing the flesh underneath with it? I'm telling you - I would give away all our state secrets if tortured this way in less than a minute. I'd rat on every single one of you before they even finished with the first nail.

Hurts worse than childbirth. I'm not kidding.

Lastly, I am in desperate need of something good to read. I finished "The Help" a month ago, and I can't find anything comparable. I loved that book. Please leave me a comment and tell me what fabulous things you all are reading. I need a page turner that makes me happy.

There. That is all.

[I know. Sorry. I'll try to do better next time.]

Indeed, the sun came out tomorrow

Can anyone tell me what that bright, round, yellow thing in the sky is?

Honestly.

We have not seen the sun around here for a few weeks, and today when it shone through my window and blinded my eyes warmed my face, I hardly recognized it.

But it does make me oh, so happy to see it. Here's hoping it sticks around more than two minutes. I am in desperate need of whatever vitamin it gives off. For some strange reason, that vitamin isn't found in cookies or diet coke, which is where I've been looking for it.

Anyhoo, we had a fabulous weekend with an old friend who came to town. [Of course, we had a mini-session, which you can sneak a peek at here.]

We've known this cute girl since she was 12 - and she's now a nearly-graduated trauma nurse. We snatched her right up back then and she became our regular babysitter. Sam was my lifeline to the outside world when I spent my days changing diapers, watching Barney, and counting the minutes until bedtime. She sat for us before there was even a Hannah pinking up our lives, and was there to witness McKay and Chase in all their toddler running/screaming/jumping/squealing glory.

Bottom line is: She knew us back THEN and still likes us.

Which is really saying something.

It was a treat to have her here, and my kids were not the same this morning when they woke up without Sam to jump on or cuddle with.

What say you, Sam? Finish up that degree and come be our live-in babysitter.

We'll take you any time, kid.

Hello, March

Can you believe it's March already? Didn't we just celebrate Christmas like two minutes ago?

Honestly.

I swear, time just keeps going faster and faster.

Anyhoo, I am exhausted and wanted to pop on here before I head upstairs to take a much needed, seldom-taken, short Monday morning nap.

Don't judge. You know you'd do it, too, if you could.

Here's what we've got on tap this week:

• The return of Chase, who has been on a business trip to Philly with the Husband, and stories galore of his adventures and escapades with his favorite cousin.
• Not one, but two, gorgeous photo shoots to share with you.
• My new favorite thing: The Blurb Book. Six months down, only thirty more to go.
  
• Orthodontic appointments for the boys to begin the process of bracing their teeth (goodbye, money. I'll really miss you).
• Manic house cleaning to prep for Oma tending while I'm on a ski trip with the Husband next week. (Which really translates to: The Husband is on a ski trip; I'm on a sleep in/nap/pedicure/shopping trip)
• And last, but not least, Stie on a diet. It ain't gonna be pretty, folks.

Happy Monday, peeps.

A little bit of happiness

I find myself cranky and overwhelmed these days. I'm tired. My feet hurt. My hands are cracked and dry. The holiday shopping is still not done. And I look down in dismay every morning to find that the bulges and bumps on my rear end seem to be mating at an alarming rate.

It's enough to drive one to drink. Or overindulge in chocolate. And caramel popcorn. And fudge. And...

You get my drift.

Instead of focusing on all that I need to do or on all that I've not done well, I'm going to focus on a few things that are bringing me a colossal amount of joy today.

Top of that list is this beautiful display:

Since I freakishly obsess over our own card every year, it should not be surprising that I fall down giddy with glee over yours. Every time I walk past these doors, my heart skips a happy, little beat. I love reading your letters and seeing how big your kids get every year. I love walking out to the mailbox and finding an envelope with our name on it. Scrawled in lovely handwriting, addressed by you, with care, to me.

Just makes the day a little better, you know?

I think we should send cards all year long. Mail in February and March would be so much more cheerful if there were something in it besides bills and more bills. Doncha think?

Next slice of joy is the fact that I completed about six dozen of these beauties today, just in time for a cookie swap tomorrow with friends:

I don't necessarily go for the cookies (gasp!) as I can pretty much bake my own any day of the week (and frequently do). But it's such a nice way to spend the morning - chatting with friends in a cozy, warm house. A cup of hot chocolate sizzling in my cold hands. The stresses and worries left at the door. I look forward to it every year.

Next up is a little indulgence I treated myself to. These lovelies, courtesy of the Container Store, sit proudly in their new home on my counter. Snacks at the ready for little hungry fingers to grab. I've had my eye on them for a few months now, and finally just decided that I deserved them.

Which I really don't. But whatever.

They're my little Christmas present to me.

And last, but not least, are these videos sent to my kiddies, straight from the North Pole. I think the younger two have watched theirs at least eight times in the last 24 hours. It's definitely helped up the magic for them this year and kept at least one from not believing.

Which I'd say is pretty freaking fantastic.

Random bits and pieces

A few things to share today:

1. I have been getting a ton of Chinese spam comments on my old posts. Like several per day. So I switched on the comment moderation, thinking it was the word verification thingie, but did not enter an email address for the comments to go to. As a result, I have lost all your lovely thoughts on my last post and will never be able to read them. If you had earth-shattering news to share (which I am sure you all did) please tell me again. It is really quite sad to wake up and not have a single comment to read. Hopefully, the problem has been solved.
   
   Stupid Chinese spam.
   


2. I have approximately 2.5 billion photos to share with you. Gear up, my friends. It's going to be a photo-tastic week!


3. I have had more migraines this week than in the past several months combined. Am thinking of amputating my own head to see if it solves the problem. I suspect not having a head won't be all that noticeable given my current state of brain power anyway.


4. Went to 'The Blind Side' and lunch with a lovely friend yesterday. I highly recommend both. A good movie, large salad, diet coke, and fabulous conversation? Just what I needed on a Monday morning. Come to think of it, just what I need on a Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday morning, too. Movie and lunch anyone?


5. I have forced myself to hold onto my Christmas cards until today, and am giddy with excitement to mail them off. These puppies have been dying to hit the post since Halloween, and it's high time they had their day in the sun. After I'm sure they're all received, I'll post our card here for you to see. Pretty excited about it. LOVE the good mail of December.


6. Last, but certainly not least, it is time once again to find a new home for the Traveling Shoes. Please, please, please, go see Thelma's blog and throw your name in the hat. I know a lot of you girls out there wanted a shot at them and now is your chance. Winter or no, those beauties need to go someplace fabulous. If I can't, then they must.
   


7. That is all. Happy Tuesday.
   

Too tired to come up with a clever title

I am stopping my slightly manic cleaning frenzy to log on here and let you know that I may be absent from the blogosphere for the next few days. We have family coming to town (who we are absolutely excited to see) and, after two days of scrubbing every surface in our home, I think I am nearly ready for them.

Hope you all had a fabulous Easter and are not hungover on chocolate like I am. Curse those blasted Reeses peanut butter eggs.

Anyhoo, I promise to return later this week with stories and blogging galore.

Or at least a post or two.

Happy Monday, peeps.

Random thoughts on this pretend Monday

1. Worst weekend in a long time. Let's just blame it on strep throat, the Husband getting stranded in Grand Rapids, muddy footprints, and chocolate that refuses to stay out of my mouth. We'll leave it at that.

2. Anyone happen to catch this on the freak show channel Discovery Health Channel?


I find myself truly sorry for anyone in this situation, but have to ask one question - if you're bedridden due to your ginormous size, who is bringing you enough food to enable this situation to continue? If you physically can't get out of bed to get your own food, then what are you eating? Wouldn't you be bound, theoretically, to eat what was given you? And couldn't you then be put on a very strict diet, against your will?

It boggles the mind.

3. I am so over the winter. I don't know if it's because we had a taste of spring last week or because I've immersed myself in planning our vacation to Hawaii this summer, but I can't bear the cold any longer. I'm done. I've had it. HAD. IT. Hear that, spring? Get your lazy a$$ up and get over here already.

Yes, I know it's only mid-February.

No, I don't think I'm being ridiculous.

4. Big shout out to the Husband who came through with flying colors for Valentine's Day. Thanks to him, I will be escaping the cares of my exhausting life (ha ha) and heading to the spa for a day of beauty and relaxation. For that alone, he is forgiven the unpardonable sin of not reading this blog on a daily basis. (Yeah, he still has not caught on to the alleged make out session spoken of earlier. Pity, isn't it?)

5. There is nothing more thrilling than watching your two boys whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies on their own. I feel their future wives will thank me for instilling in them a competency in the kitchen. Every man should know how to cook, even if it's only cookies.

6. I loathe cleaning the bathroom. I don't even know if loathe is a strong enough word. What's worse than loathe? Hate? No, I feel even stronger about it than that. And in this house? I have four bathrooms that all need a good scrub down. I think it might be time for a cleaning lady.

That is all. My condolences to anyone who bothered reading this far. Disappointing, I know.

Happy Tuesday, interpeeps.

Have you ever? (The parking edition)

This afternoon I decided to brave the below-freezing temperatures and head to the mall. The kids were home for a half-day today, and Hannah was in need of some entertainment. The boys were having a play date, and she was stuck at home with mom (a fate worse than death, I know).

She has become an ardent scrapbooker (read: she likes to rifle through my stuff) and I figured an outing to the local scrapbook store would serve several purposes today. One, it would get her some new supplies and increase the chance that she actually leaves my stuff alone; two, it would give us something fun to do together; and, three, it would enable me to spend more of the Husband's money on pretty paper, ribbons, and such (which just so happens to be one of my favorite things to do with his money).

So we bundled ourselves up and headed out. Seeing as it is literally eight degrees today, I circled the parking lot repeatedly, looking for a spot close to the doors. I spied one on the front row, and headed toward it with glee. That glee was short lived, however, when I noticed it was designated parking for expectant mothers only.

Oh, for half a second I actually wished I was pregnant.

I stopped. I hesitated. I mentally debated whether or not I looked pudgy enough in my winter coat to be able to get away with it (which sadly, I probably do). But in the end, the thought of some poor actual pregnant person having to walk farther in the cold because of me was enough to compel me to do the right thing.

With a sigh, I resigned myself to the mile-long walk in the cold, and headed for a parking spot farther out. As Hannah and I approached that front-row mother's spot on our way inside, another car was pulling in.

And to my horror, a very obviously-not-pregnant person was getting out of the car. How could I be sure, you ask?

BECAUSE IT WAS A MAN.

Yes, a lone man was parking in the expectant mother's parking spot. You can be sure that my frozen face scowled as fierce as one could in the sub-freezing air.

I don't think he noticed, what with his short, warm trip inside the mall.

So, once again, I reminded myself not to judge, and prayed that a real pregnant person was not stuck in the cold longer because of him.

But it begs me to ask -- have you ever parked in that spot when you weren't pregnant? How about the handicapped spot? Ever parked there when you know you shouldn't have?

Discuss.

The 13-day hiatus comes to an end

Oh, hello there little blog. My, how I've missed you. Is anyone still here? Anyone? Anyone?

I am sorry to have been away for so long, but for the first time in several long months, I have actually had a husband around.

While for most of you this is an everyday occurrence -- in my world, it is not. It is a rare treat, and one which I have enjoyed to the fullest. We have spent every waking second together for the last two weeks. And guess what we discovered? We actually like each other.

I know, right?

While the Husband is not heading back to work just yet, I am finally ready to return to you, my other true love.

I'm kidding.

You know my other true love will always be Mr. Darcy.

Anyhoo, semi-regular posting will resume shortly. That is, if any of you are left to read the drivel that gets churned out here at Stie's Thoughts.

And sadly, taking a hiatus doesn't make me any funnier. I apologize in advance for the disappointment. But dang, it feels good to be back.

Rock star

This chick has serious 80s rock star hair every morning at the breakfast table. It goes well with her nightly concoction of mismatched pajamas and a summer swim dress -- which is best worn over the jammies. I mean, duh. How else would one wear a swim dress in the middle of winter while one is sleeping?

I have given up creative control when it comes to her wardrobe, and that includes the night time. She is far too stubborn for me to ever win anyway, and I decided I would save that battle for another day. Like if she ever tries to peg her jeans and wear her bangs straight up, six inches higher than her forehead.

Which I totally know is going to happen someday. That kind of bad stuff has a way of repeating itself.

She is definitely not a morning person (wonder where she gets that from?), and usually spends a good half hour in silence, with a look on her face like this one:


Don't worry, girlfriend. I can totally relate.

But eventually she warms up to us, and starts talking. Once the talking starts, it doesn't stop until her tiny head hits the pillow at night. Which is where the hair magic happens all over again.

Dang, I love this little girl something fierce.

Still, she will probably kill me when she sees these pictures.

And if that happens, remind the Husband that I forbid him from ever marrying anyone who doesn't outweigh me by at least double.

And no, dear husband, I do not weigh a mere 55 pounds.

Miscellany

Not sure what happened with my comments on the last post. I got several emails telling me you were unable to leave me a comment.

We can't have that now, can we?

I changed it back to the comments pop-up window, blindly hoping that fixes it. Goodness knows, this girl needs her comments to get her through an otherwise very un-complimentary daily life.

BTW, I'm betting Mr. Obama had one HELL of a party last night. Anyone stay up to watch history being made? I've been fighting a cold and just couldn't do it.

Well done, Mr. President.

Is it Monday yet?

Hi, there.

No time to chat for the following reasons:

1. The kids are home from school today.

2. I have 1,873 things to do, but will not get to any of them. See number one for questions on this.

3. High School Musical opens today and I have a six-year-old girl who cannot stop talking about Troy, Gabriella, and Sharpay. She is literally clinging to my legs, begging to see it RIGHT. NOW. (the child is clinging to my legs, not Sharpay, in case you were wondering).

4. I have two boys pouting in the basement, praying to be left home from the movie in which the characters sing and dance spontaneously, which, apparently, is a fate worse than death, according to them.

5. I have a child with virtually no long pants, and cold weather is now upon us.

6. I have another child who had outgrown his church pants and cannot fake button them another Sunday.

7. I have no milk in the house.

8. I am in dire need of a McDonald's diet coke. See all of the above for reasons on this one.

9. I have foolishly promised the children some pumpkin carving today. Oh, how I hate that sticky, gooey mess that lives inside the pumpkins. I can just feel it squishing in my fingers right now and I'm already grossed out.

10. I will soon have a gigantic mess of pumpkin innards to mop up off my floor.

Happy Friday, all.

Driving me crazy

Something that has always been interesting to me is the vast differences when driving in other states. Sure, we all live in the same country, we all get fat at McDonald's together, and we all cheer for the Red Sox (at least those of us with good taste, anyway). But when it comes to getting behind the wheel of our cars, we become something else entirely.

So, I thought I'd take this chilly fall day and share my thoughts on local drivers in the states we've lived in. Hopefully, it will help you, if you ever find yourself in any of these places.

Utah:

In Utah, if you want to change lanes, don't put your blinker on. For, you see, a blinker doesn't signal your desire to change lanes. It actually means the vehicle in the next lane over should immediately speed up, in order to prevent you from getting in front of him. Do not be surprised when you see lots of middle fingers pointed your direction in Utah.

But take heart, for when you arrive at your destination (likely the church Halloween party), you will discover the other driver is actually in your ward. You can thank him personally for the nice, friendly greeting he sent you on I-15.

Minnesota:

Minnesotans brag about being "Minnesota Nice." That definitely doesn't apply to driving. What you most need to be wary of is the chain smoking, coffee chugging, big haired old lady. She WILL run you down in her pink Mary Kay Cadillac. These are hearty people used to living in an inhospitable frozen tundra eight months out of the year. They know how to drive on a sheet of ice without fear. There is no mercy on the road in Minnesota.

Boston:

Boston is a scary place to drive. The drivers there have decided that the vehicle trying to make a left-hand turn onto a busy street actually has the right of way. There's no law that says this, but they have declared it so, and everyone does it.

And if have the gall to NOT stop your vehicle in the middle of the street to let them turn left (you know, because that seems like the safest thing to do when going 40 mph), they will pull out anyway. They will ram your car, yell at YOU, and miraculously not pronounce the letter "R" once.

Washington:

Seattle drivers were a wee bit obsessed with the carpool lane. So much so, that it was a pretty frequent occurrence to see a single driver in that lane, with a blow-up doll in the front seat. I was actually pulled over once for driving in that lane, but not given a ticket because I had my two small children with me, who were not visible in their car seats. When driving in Seattle, beware any old clunker plastered with Kurt Cobain stickers. The driver is undoubtedly hopped up on Starbucks, has not showered in a week, and would probably ram your car if he saw you using a styrofoam cup.

California:

Oy. California. Your best bet is to go 40 miles per hour OVER the speed limit, and drive defensively to avoid any accidents. Because chances are, you'll be the one to hit the Bentley, and they've definitely got more money to sue you with. Trust me when I tell you, the last place you want to be is between a giant pimped out Hummer, driven by a hungry anorexic woman, and her Botox appointment. She will crush you. And she will not care.

Missouri:

Missouri drivers are unlike ANY I have seen anywhere else. They don't actually go the speed limit here, they go S-L-O-W-E-R. It is SO ANNOYING. I am no speeder, but when I'm the fastest one on the freeway, you know something is wrong. The people here drive like every day is a leisurely Sunday drive. They look, this way and that, slow their car down to check out the homes, trees, dogs, and sky. I am doomed to be forever behind a slow car here.

So, internets, what are the drivers like where you live?