Comment: Adventures in Driving

So I had a training to go to this weekend, outside of my little comfort-zone radius of 2.2 miles here in my urban paradise. This qualified as an ADVENTURE.

Naturally, I did Google maps. Then I got my two different GPSes, set them up, and was ready to go. Oh, and I had the directions that the training site (a library) told me to use, typed out for my convenience already.

Step One: Tom Tom GPS not functioning. Only showing Gray Striped Screen of Death. Remain undaunted: I've got back ups!

Step Two: Follow paper directions because it's too hard to use iPod GPS while driving stick shift in traffic.

Step Three: Miss vital turn.

Step Four: Am completely, utterly turned around. Drive for a long while hoping to be able to turn around and retrace my steps.

Step Five: Discover it is WAY too late for that. Think profane thoughts. Breathe deeply.

Step Six: Pull over. Consult functioning GPS.

Step Seven: Drive more.

Step Eight: End up at a horse stable the GPS insists is the library. Curse softly.

Repeat Steps Six and Seven.

Step Nine: Find a library. But it's the wrong one. Curse a little louder.

Repeat Steps Six and Seven.

Step Ten: Find myself in the middle of a large cemetery, proudly displaying a large billboard proclaiming "SPECIAL! Two for One Caskets PLUS FREE CRYPT!". No, I am not making this up. Attempt to curse quietly out of respect for the dead.

Step Eleven: Drive on, watching little dot on functioning GPS tell me I'm ALMOST there, but can never GET there.

Step Twelve: Find errant US Postal Worker. Ask for directions. Said Postal Worker tells me I am WAY off, points me in appropriate direction.

Step Thirteen: Arrive at training site, the right library, this time. Total travel time: 85 minutes. Find doors locked. Curse loudly. Find back door open. Enter late. Discover thirty minutes later the side zipper on my blouse is WIDE OPEN.

Conclusion: Throw myself on the mercy of the local population for handwritten directions home. Get home in 30 minutes.

Technology, ye have failed me, and I am sore afraid.

Seriously, sometimes the best GPS is a woman named Paula and a post-it note with directions you stick onto the dashboard of your car.