To do with cars

About a month ago I got rear-ended/sideswiped while waiting at a stoplight. It was a horrific experience, my first car accident, and I had no idea what to do. I mean, the car was meandering away from me, so I got out of my car, called my dad on the phone, and ran after the car, yelling "stop lady, STOP!!!" Eventually it all turned out well, for me at least. But this was the first incident of my bumper appearing tasty to a car - this car got a big chomp on mine.

My car was brought home from the car repair place this week. It has a spiffy new bumper that is painted a shade different than the rest of the car, probably because the paint hadn't dried yet.

Yesterday I took the car out for a spin and my brother to the orthodontist. As we went down 101, packs of cars would just come up slowly behind us and then slowly pass us. Semi truck included, except he just drooled over my bumper, and didn't attempt to pass. But we were going the speed limit! Glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing perhaps the sixth pack creeping up behind us, I rolled my eyes and told Ben to look around. He did, and we decided that my bumper is very attractive to the cars. As a car passed us on our right, coming within inches of my car, we became more convinced that these cars just want a bite out of my car, as Ben yelled, "No, not again!"

Is your car hungry? Does it want something more than gasoline to keep it going down the highway? I'm sure my bumper is a perfect treat that your car will die for.

In the meantime, I think I'll avoid driving while cars are on a hunger strike for bumpers.

It's okay, Alyena

As I write this, Alyena should have been on her way to New York since about 7 am.
Yesterday, the last day, was spent in packing, weighing suitcases, deciding what to send in a box later, and keeping Alyena calm. Every twenty minutes, she would announce to me, "I don't want to leave America!" Then, as she paced around the house during my art lesson, pestering my dad and refusing to sit down, I smiled to myself. I knew she was anxous to go home and just didn't want to believe that!Though being extremly tired that day from having to stay up late for several nights in order to make calls to Belarus, I took upon myself the task of entertaining Alyena so that my dad could work and my siblings have fun. After my art lesson, we walked to the beach (1 mi.), chatting in Russian the whole time and giggling when people stared at us.
Later that evening, after dinner, we sat down and watched videos of Oksana and Zhenya from last year, and then the old, very long version of Pride and Prejudice, while my siblings went to bed, saying their last goodbyes to Alyena.At 10 pm, we decided to bake chocolate chip cookies, seeing as we still had almost two hours until it was time to leave.
But, all too soon, the time came, and at 11:45, we left to go to a church and say our last goodbyes. We had half an hour to do so, and during that time, there was only a couple kids crying. Most were very silent, but Alyena (9), Natasha (14 or 15), Valerei (10 or 11), and I sat in a group, talked and laughed a good deal. Indeed, everyone was staring at us, possibly wondering why we were not sad?
The greatest joke of the night was when interpeter Tatiana came over and joined our group. Val looked at her and asked if I was going with them. She looked at me and said the same thing in English. Surprised, I said no. Val got confused and said, "but...isn't she...Belarusian?" Before Tatiana could interpet, I laughed and said, "No, I'm an American!" (These conversations were taking place in Russian) Then my group burst out laughing again as did a few people standing close to us.
At last we said goodbye, left, and I dropped in bed wiped out at 1 am, wishing violently that I did not have to wait two whole years until I go to Belarus.