Friday, 19 September 2008

Road Rules

Road rules are things that we take for granted (as are, apparently, time rules for persons such as myself since it has been a month since the last blog), and which morph funnily in different places where one decides to walk or drive.

For example, in Boston notions such as the traffic light turn signal and the no-drive shoulder of the highway become utterly meaningless. I am happy to report that age has not completely set in so badly that I am not able to adapt and morph along with these stupid ideas and managed to spend almost a week on the inside alive and without scrapes on the Prius -- which is kind of like driving a video game, but does get awesome gas mileage. There are, however, loads of rules being broken all over the place with vocabulary...

My week involved fairly nothing at all interesting, educational, wool-worthy, or explorative in Boston, but Bear did get the chance to go to Plymouth yesterday since British flags had to be found for table displays. (I found myself very un-American for thinking not twice but at least 5 times about whether to drive the 40 miles to the British shop for the flags -- it is just so far in British terms! tee hee. People barely can manage to go 14 miles to visit seals.)

It was excessively annoying to not be able to get an adequate picture of Plymouth Rock since the pavilion is under construction and completely ensconced in plastic and scaffolding. The Mayflower was more photographically cooperative. This activity spawned some conversations with strangers...

Today, to add to idiotic notions of traffic fun, I flew to Atlanta (but the traffic was refreshingly not so bad by 6.30 this evening). Other things which made the day exciting were: going out to the post office in Dedham this a.m.; finding my work credit card declined just before the weekend of charges including a car and hotel; flipping out and having to have my other colleagues in DC call the UK since I thought it was 10 mins to 5pm GMT; not being able to get back to my hotel due to a sudden need to completely close Elm St; flailing about with the 400-page Boston atlas; resorting to police help for navigating back; having heart palpitations throughout.

Good things included: sunshine; cheerful hotel managers; amusing African limo drivers; riding in a black Escalade with my shady pay-as-you-go US cell phone; choosing the 'Expert Flyer' line for going through security in Logan; not causing any alarms to sound or having my bag searched for rogue hotel hand lotions; being upgraded by nice Hertz lady from a Corolla to a Passat; going to Whole Foods.

Oh! And finding a knitting group to go to tomorrow afternoon: the Smyrna Hens!