Today, I got up. I showered. I got dressed, did my hair, and made snack mix from Erin's recipe. I burned my finger on the snack mix syrup (karo syrup, sugar, butter), which hurt A LOT. But I think it'll be fine since there's no blister.
With my snack mix in hand, I printed directions, got in the car, and headed out Route 99, through the GHO traffic, on my way to get on I-91 North.
Where was I going, you ask? Well, Mrs. Bing (my 9th grade English teacher and Yearbook advisor) had invited me up to her house in Tolland for lunch and a swim (in her fancy new in-ground pool) with Mrs. Line (my 11th and 12th grade English teacher) and her daughter. This is pretty much tradition. Our first party was held the summer after I graduated and also included Megan and Ms. Stillman (my H.S. guidance counselor). I think I laughed harder that day than I had before or have since. We played Cranium and it was hysterical. I think it was sophomore year when I was home on Christmas break when the second party was held. And now this. (Someday I will convince them we need pictures to document these things.)
Anyway. So I was a little nervous about driving there in crazy Friday traffic, but I have done it before. Plus I'm a good little driver- I don't drive aggressively; I've never gotten a ticket, been in an accident, or anything, and I kind of pride myself on that fact. So I soldiered on. On for about... oh, 10 miles, when I ran into stop-and-go traffic trying to get over the Charter Oak Bridge to I-84 E. This exit ramp is always, always backed up. Partly because people like to speed up alongside the waiting cars and sidle their way in as quickly as possible. "Please, you first. I was waiting in this line because I just have some extra time to kill, but you must obviously have somewhere more important to go than I do." Not.
So there I was, driving up over an overpass at about 1:15, stop (or at least slow down), go. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. BAM.
I hit my head on my headrest, looked in my review mirror and may have yelled "WHAT THE HECK, YOU IDIOT?!" I do not credit myself with thinking quickly in emergency situations, but, I instinctively put on my blinker and pulled over. The guy behind me didn't look as keen on stopping, but did when I did. Before I even got out of the car, I called 911. (My first 911 call EVER!) She asked me where I was, and if anyone was hurt. (No one was.) She said they'd send someone out.
The guy was out of his car and I got out of mine, standing next to the barrier that separated us from 4 lanes of traffic below. He asked if I called the police- I said yes. He then started talking to me about the traffic, how he tried to stop, his girlfriend, and other random bits of broken English that I didn't have the mental capacity to process. I called my mom but she didn't answer. (That facebook group that said "I could be dying and you didn't pick up your phone mom!" was just funny to me before- now I feel like I should add myself to it) I went back to the car and got out my license, and looked for the registration in the glove compartment. I called my dad.
He was at work, but luckily for me, he answered. At that point, my big girl you're-fine-the-car-is-fine facade broke down and I started to cry. "Dad?" sob sob. You know- the sob where you're bawling and still trying to talk to someone like you're fine. "I just *sob* got *sob* rear-ended on the highway." sob sob. He asked if I was hurt and if the car was ok, and then where I was and where I was going. He said he'd come meet me.
Then I called Evan to ask if there was an insurance card in the car. Same deal. "There should be one in there with the registration. Why do you need it?" Cue bawling.
Shortly after that, my mom called back and said "Aren't you driving?" "No..." sob sob. Ok, so I might be a little bit of a cry-baby. But I've never been in an accident before, and it just scared me. I was alone and stopped on the side of the highway, and didn't really know what to do. And in the words of Lesley Gore and an oldies favorite, "You would cry too if it happened to you!"
Then we waited for probably 20 minutes for the cop to get there and my dad. I'm not sure I've ever been happier to see my dad. The cop got out and asked if anyone was hurt and then looked at the cars and seemed unimpressed. About 10 minutes later he came back and took our licenses, registration, and insurance information. About 10 minutes after that, another cop pulled up and the first one left. He came and asked me what happened. I told him, "We were just in stop-and-go traffic to get over the bridge and the car in front of me stopped, so I stopped, but he didn't." That's all I really knew about it.
The cop went away. My dad asked me if I'd called Mrs. Bing to let her know what happened. (I hadn't yet because I didn't want to cry on the phone talking to her- it would freak her out.) I called her, but she didn't answer, so I left a message letting her know I was in an accident, I was fine, the car was fine, but I was going to be late. Then I called Mrs. Line who luckily answered and told her my little story. Somewhere around then, Evan showed up. I don't think I've ever been happier to see him either. The guy driving the other car commented "Wow- everyone loves you!" Well, yes, they do. And that's the way I like it.
Evan left shortly after that and the cop came back and told us to get in our cars. He talked to the other guy first then came and told me that he gave a ticket to the other guy, and gave me a copy of the information for the police report. He told me I could leave.
And with that, I took a deep, deep breath, waited for a break in traffic, and pulled out to continue on my way. I made it to Mrs. Bing's about an hour after my original estimated time of arrival. They gave me big hugs and Mrs. Bing made me a sandwich while I told them what happened.
We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, sitting on her lovely patio, and swimming. It was relaxing and fun. I stayed a little later than planned to wait out rush hour, but made it home uneventfully around 7:30. Can I just tell you that turning into Shanley Court and seeing the house made me feel like Brigham Young seeing the Salt Lake Valley? Or finally arriving at grandma's in Provo after the cross-country drive? Or the 101 Dalmatians seeing the Collie that led them to the barn? Home. It was glorious.
And at about 8:30, mom sent me to go pick up pizza and milk, even after I protested: "Me?! I almost DIED today!" She didn't sympathize. She told me I needed to get back in the saddle.
And there you have it. I guess my "I Have Never" repertoire just got smaller.
p.s.- So the damage is on the left side of the bumper- a nice blue imprint of the guy's license plate!
p.p.s.- My neck and back are hurting a bit, but I'm hoping it's unrelated.
