(attention Eli-Junkies: There are a few updates from yesterday about Eli below this post)

So I finally went to pay my speeding ticket yesterday, because I just didn’t have enough to do yesterday. ;) I had just not gotten around to it yet, and of course, this week of all weeks is the week that it had to be paid. So I drove over to Crestline Village in search of the Mountain Brook Police Department. Of course, C.V. is one of those snooty little city centers that has adorable buildings and very little parking. So I followed the signs to the Police Department, went around the building, and much to my surprise, found several open spaces. I pull in and get out, and there are 4 police officers standing a few feet off. Immediately one of them asks me what I need. Kind of taken aback, I tell them that I am here to pay a ticket. He says “OK, but hurry up, you’re not supposed to be parked there.” I consider joking with him about giving me a parking ticket while I’m paying a speeding ticket, but decide against it. He gives me directions to where I need to go. Ali and I head off according to his directions (“through the veranda” – I told you this place was snooty). We go through the veranda, and the door under the veranda has a sign that clearly says “We do not accept payment for tickets at this office. Go to City Hall”. Great. City Hall is around the other side of the building. I try to sneak back onto the sidewalk in hopes that the cops don’t see me and think I’m not obeying their directions or not “hurrying up” and head to City Hall. They happily accept my money. And, thank goodness, when I got back to the car, no parking ticket!! As I drove away from paying my speeding ticket, my car still rattling from my wreck last week, I could feel the policemen’s eyes (they were still standing around) watching me, and I could just hear them thinking “women drivers!!!” For a moment, I felt like the worst driver in the world.

Writing about being embarassed about my car reminded me of a very vivid memory I have from my early High School days. We were going on a youth group outing (Video Scavenger Hunt, I think) and we were all meeting at the church. My dad was taking me, and he wanted to ride the motorcycle. Being that I was the type of teenager that was deathly afraid of attention, I begged him not to – too many people would notice!!! So, being the nice Dad that he was even though I’m SURE he thought I was silly (I think I’m silly now), he took me in his truck. Then, the moment we pull into the church parking lot, his truck engine explodes. I mean – loud booms, then steaming liquids of all colors start leaking from every area of the front of the truck. We all load up in the vans to go out, and EVERYONE rides right past my Dad and his steaming, leaking truck. If I had agreed to the motorcycle, the worst thing that would have happened is that people would have noticed and thought I was cool.

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