Just Call Me Taxi Princess

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I have been drafted to spend my Thursday evening, Friday evening and Sunday morning doing airport/train station runs. While that sounds simple, this entails two-three hour drives EACH WAY.

I want to have a shiny yellow rain coat with checkered stockings just for the plain and simple fact I think I need them so I can be perfectly in costume. And then, I might never be asked to make Transportation Runs, EVER AGAIN. I really don't mind, I just mind the long drive back BY MYSELF. Not just BY MYSELF, but ALL BY MYSELF. Trust me, talking to yourself, especially when you find yourself completely unamusing, gets old, FAST.

I really cannot complain, because these sisters that are deserting me over Valentine's Day weekend, would take ME to the airport if I had someplace to escape to, but I don't. I would, however, like to take a brief moment to pat myself on the back since neither of them had to bribe OR guilt trip me into taking them to their desired transportation venue.

I AM SUCH A NICE PERSON. I SO deserve a cooky. Or, chocolate. Or, flowers. Or, ALL OF THE ABOVE.

3 Responses to “Just Call Me Taxi Princess”

  1. Blogger steelcowboy 
  2. Blogger QOS 

    You need a blackberry. Then you can post to your blog WHILE YOU ARE DRIVING!

  3. Blogger TSG 

    I used to commute from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Once a week, 5 1/2 hours down on Thursday, 5 1/2 hours up on Sunday. I did that for 11 months.

    I feel your pain.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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