It’s no secret that 2009 was the year of Lauren Almost Dying Multiple Times, but when we celebrated New Years Day 2010, I was hoping to put all that behind me. After all, there are reasons I don’t skydive, bungee jump, surf, rollerblade, or do anything remotely known to be risky or dangerous. I’m more of a freak-out-when-I-look-down-and-see-I-am-going-over-80-mph-because-I-WILL-get-a-ticket-and-or-die girl. Or an I-get-enough-of-a-thrill-from-saving-20-cents-on-canned-tuna-thank-you-very-much girl. And let’s not forget the I-don’t-like-heights-no-matter-how-safe-because-I-WILL-be-hurled-off-the-side-AND-DIE girl.
But, despite my best attempts to stay out of harm’s way, sickness, pestilence, & general discomfort continues to find me. And let’s not forget danger. Danger loves me. Danger, to me, is like that creepy guy you went on a few dates with & decided he wasn’t for you, only he doesn’t let up & next thing you know you’re looking over your shoulder walking to your car at night & deleting your blog & blocking phone numbers. Not that I ever had an experience like that.
Anyway.
Tuesday night, I went to Cio‘s house for dinner & to talk about the Bible study she’s organizing. Corlene was with me, as was my dog Pancho. We had a wonderful dinner, a great time catching up & discussing future plans, & left around 10pm. It was pitch dark. A little rainy. I was going about 65 down I-45, per my usual grandma driving, taking extra precaution because of the weather. Suddenly, my car was pushed from behind. It was one of those split-second moments where you’re all WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED. I wasn’t sure. Then it happened again. I looked in my rear-view mirror, saw a semi-truck’s headlights as he was passing me, briefly thought If that truck hit me, why is my car not in a million pieces right now, and as the truck passed me & sped away as fast as it could I slammed on my brakes. In the middle of the freeway. Corlene started yelling at me to move over, so I moved to the shoulder, but there was an exit right in front of me, & she told me to take it. I don’t know why, but I did, all the while thinking I have to get that truck’s license plate number! So we rode the feeder, shaking and hyperventilating, asking each other WHAT HAPPENED?! Then I saw a truck pulled over on the freeway with its hazards on. I went to get back on the freeway, pulled into the shoulder, and turned my hazards on. We sat there for maybe 10 minutes, & no one stopped. I called Michael, started freaking out again, & pulled into a nearby rest stop. Which was full of truckers. I don’t know if you have a mom who likes to forward you scary emails about GIRLS BEING KIDNAPPED and GIRLS BEING MURDERED but I do. And if I have learned anything from those emails it’s that ALL TRUCKERS ARE MURDERERS AND RAPISTS. So I was all, we have to get out of here immediately! But, hello, my legs are jello & my hands are shaking. And wait! I don’t even know what the back of my car looks like! So I reach in my glove compartment & pull out the flashlight I keep in there for emergencies (but have never had to use). It’s not just any flashlight. It’s a DISNEY PRINCESS flashlight that my mom bought me when I was in college & going on a mission trip & “flashlight” was on the checklist of stuff to bring and she thought it would be cute because I was going through a phase and OMG WE ARE GETTING SIDETRACKED. So I take my little princess flashlight to go look at the back of the car after VERY BRAVELY instructing my friend to remain in the car with my child dog. I mean, if someone has to get murdered, I will take one for the team, because I am that good of a friend. So I look at the back of my car (whilst standing on very wobbly legs) and since the beam of my flashlight puts off about as much light as a single Christmas tree bulb, I can’t see much. But I do see a big scrape on one side of the bumper, & no dents. So I think, my car is OK, we’re OK, no need to have any conversations with murders/rapists truckers tonight, let’s go home.
When I got back in the car, Corlene & I thought it might be a good idea to call 911, to see if the trucker or someone else had reported anything. Here’s the thing about 911: unless you know EXACT DETAILS, they can’t help you. So if you’re ever about to be murdered or your house is being broken into by a seven-foot tall man with a bazooka, please don’t call 911 unless you are absolutely calm & can give clear details. Otherwise they can’t help you. I couldn’t give any details about the truck, and I didn’t know my exact location, so pretty much I was screwed. I said “I don’t want a trooper to come out here, I just wanted to see if anyone had called to report an accident.” And they’re all, we’re sending a trooper out right now. SIGH. Whatever. I probably needed the time to sit & get my bearings anyway. However, rest area at night on a deserted part of the highway surrounded by a bunch of truckers = MURDER STORY LOCATION. We waited for over half an hour for this trooper, and in the meantime I am jumping at every sound and movement. I tried to get an ETA on the trooper, and they told me 5 minutes. Well, my husband started to get worried, so HE called, and they’re all “Yeah, it could take up to 2 hours. Since it’s not an emergency, they’re not a priority.” Excuse me, WHAT? So we came home. All night I replayed everything in my head. While I’m still not sure what happened, I do know this: Things could’ve been much, much worse. I’m thankful that my friend, myself, & my dog are fine. That we’re not roadkill on the highway. That we don’t even have any injuries. That God protected us. However you want to slice it, a semi-truck hit my car & somehow we’re OK. To me, that’s a small miracle & I am beyond thankful.
Today, coming home from my weekly Thursday appointment, again coming down I-45, something weird happened. It felt like a flat tire. So I pulled onto the shoulder, turned on my hazards, had a brief case of freaky deja vu, & got out to check the tires/try not to die. I couldn’t see anything wrong. So I got back in my car & kept going. Then it happened again. So I exited & pulled into a parking lot, called my husband, & waited for him to get there. In the meantime thinking WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME & discarding any notions of ever buying a lottery ticket. Michael got there, & we figured out (by driving back & forth across the parking lot like weirdos) that my left back wheel was locking up randomly, and not turning properly. AWESOME. So we called a tow truck to take it to our mechanic (read: another expense we do not need right now).
In conclusion, I’m thinking my husband should take out a larger life insurance policy on me. Or I should never leave my house again.
PS: I was trying to be all clever with my blog title, so I googled “accident prone celebrity,” and the 10th result was the following:
[article via Mirror.co.uk]
I repeat, I AM NEVER LEAVING MY HOUSE AGAIN.
Comments on I'm the Evel Knievel of bloggers.
From abby:
Ok, that is seriously scary! And if you ask me, that dumb trucker owes you some money for the tire repair!! Too bad you didn’t get the plate number! I’m glad you’re alright. i’m pretty sure I’d make my hubby drive me around for at least a week after the couple days you have had!
From RootsAndRings:
I’m not completely freaked out like your other commenters will be… but only because I’ve already heard those stories and have voiced me “OMG WHAT???” concerns with you. But if it makes you feel any better, I’d still trust myself and my child in the car with you. :)
From Nora:
I think you should hire a chauffeur instead. Less emotional stress & less out of pocket costs FTW.
Be safe! Don’t make us worry about you anymore :)
From Kara:
I really couldn’t help but laugh at some of this!
But I’m glad you’re okay! I HATE driving anywhere near semi trucks. HATE HATE HATE. They terrify me.
From DebbieQ:
I am just shaking my head in amazement. Glad that you are OK.
From steph anne:
Lauren, I have to say this post made me laugh because of your sense of humor. Although on the serious side, I am really glad you’re okay and that it wasn’t any worse. I do have a mother like that who sends me e-mails all the time and I am terrified of rest stops too and will only feel comfortable if my Dad or husband is there with me.
From Reen:
SOOOO glad you’re safe and sound. Never leave your house. M’k?
From Emily Jane:
NO!! I’m SO happy you’re safe and okay…. please stay that way!!
From jack:
I’m freaked.
From Jill:
You’ve had a rough week! I hope this one is much better :)
From Victoria:
I am so glad that you are okay!!!!
But WOW!!! I always disliked driving on 45! One time when my car was in the shop, Enterprise was going to give me an itty bitty PT Cruiser in exchange for my Escape….little car on the ground or a little car higher up….ummmm NO! I was SO nice to them that they upgraded me to a 4 door Ford F-150! I felt so safe driving up to school that night…especially since there were about A BILLION truck drivers on the road that night
Still glad you are okay!!!! :)
From S.I.F.:
Oh my gosh! That article at the end is amazing! I am so sorry. The trucker thing would have completely freaked me out!
From sarah:
I watch lots of 20/20 and Dateline and I can back your mother up on this one…truckers = murderers. So basically, you should be dead, but I am super glad you’re not.
True story on why I hope to never need 911 to save my life: a little over a year ago, it was a really stormy night and I was driving to a Junior League meeting. When I was approaching a stop light I saw all sorts of what looked like spark coming from the street. As I got to the light I realize that FLAMES WERE SHOOTING FROM THE TOP OF THE LIGHTPOST. The first 5 times I called 911, the line was busy. Once I finally got a person on the phone they asked me a million questions and then acted indifferent. SO yeah, husbands are probably better to call then 911.
From honeycutt:
1:47 is your LIFE.
From Julie:
Wow, I’m glad I don’t have a car…or drive. :)
From hannahkaty:
Glad you are ok.. Had to say I laughed out loud over that google search… Be careful miss.
Best,
Hannah Katy
From Stephanie~LittleInsights.com:
Holy cow, Lauren. That is pretty intense to say the least! I have never had much success when I have had to call the police department either. I thought the reasons I called were pretty important ones…
1-2 & 3) Witnessed a drunk driver,
followed them and obtained vehicle information…police department=not interested.
4.) Identity theft! (They came out and actually took a report on this one. My guess is that they filed it in their shredder!)
5.) While taking pictures of my daughter in a park/gardens setting I happened to notice two grown men taking pictures of my daughter. WHAT THA? I quickly snatched my daughter and other kids, removed them from the situation, snapped a few pictures of these men and found the parks and recreation security guy. He did nothing, so when I got home I called the police department, because certainly they would want these pictures that I took of these creeps…and certainly it isn’t okay to photograph children without a parents consent! Turns out it is perfectly legal…until they decide to do something more sinister with the photos! Again…WHAT THA? Oh, how this angers me!!
I digressed!
Definitely glad to hear that all is well and that you are okay, though.
On a side note you/anyone can now follow Little Insights on Facebook or join the group, “Little Insights” (also on Facebook).
From heirtoblair:
I’m just glad that you’re alive. That’s all.
because I like you that much.