The Superstar of the Movie of Life - me & the Marriott

Je suis allee au Baton Rouge depuis mercredi...fun stuff. Except that I definitely feared for my life at a certain point. Yours truly hasn't driven a car in about two years, so I'm already nervous about getting a rental car before I even go up to National to get my first 'official' rental. Ya'll - sadly, until I turn 65, I think this is the last government intervention on my rights (sort of makes me sad - unless I get a feeding tube, the government won't care about what I do for the next 40 yrs)- prior to this, I was under the impression that you gotta wait til you're 25 to rent a car...at least until I start talking to the nice people at National. They're all "Oh, honey, dohn't ya knooow..ya can rent a caa when ya're 21 in Lousianaaaa." Um...'scuse me? I should've come here years ago...

(side note - I can hear my roomie having sex. This freakin annoys the hell out of me b/c every time I'm like 'tone it down' and every time she blushes and says she's sorry and still, every time I see J walk in the door post 9pm, i'm like shit, gotta get the tylenol pm or beer for me. Alas, I"m still awake)...

Anyway, so last night, I'm all drivin like a grandma -hands at 10 o'clock and 2 'oclock and ticking in at 50 mph on a 60 mph speed limit. And I'm talkin to myself. C'mon Ketty Ket, you can do this, not a big deal if they pass you in the exit lane...but I'm still so freaked out that I don't even remotely have the radio on - "KettyKet, you can't turn on the radio - it'll totally distract you if you try to sing along with 50"...Long story short, I get lost in the GHETTO. Not a little ghetto..an intersection of Choctaw and Plank. Can you remotely imagine those two streets conjuring good images? Indians like the Choctaw were massacred during the Lewis & Clark days and Plank? - please...all I can think of is that pirates make you walk the plank before you die...so yeah, that's where I was - at a Shell station where I later find out was the site of a murder the week before. And then my retarded ass almost causes an accident because I stop in the middle of an intersection - causing people in 3 lanes to fuck up their driving patterns...whatever- like I said - it was 10pm and they thought I was stoned.

Now, I dated a guy who lived in Harlem - didn't bother me that we would have to pass various hookers on our way to his building at night. 'No, babe, no 3-some tonight." Whatever - I like to think I'm a ballsy chick...and yet, still, I was stuck in random Baton Rouge at 10pm and I was hungry for some french fries with no Popeyes in sight and I see some cracked out guy wandering into the bushes on the side of Shell to do God knows what....so thank you dear Marriott for allowing me to turn you into my personal On-Star system. Seriously - On-Star doesn't know what they're missing...I'd make a commercial for ya in a heartbeat. For 20 minutes you put up with me: "Okay, I passed Short. Now I'm passing Florida...wait, is this where the freshmen LSU kids go to get their cheap beer and liquor? B/c I just saw a great sign for some cheap goodies and there's some kids in polo's in the parking lot...okay, I feel safer now - I think I'm probably 10 minutes away" (based on my own adventures in freshmen/high school alcohol purchases in L-town-usually a radius of about 10 minutes from the 'good' neighborhood and the 'useful' neighborhood).

Ok. I'm gonna sign off now. J is driving me crazy, so I think I'm gonna have to make the roomie blush. Jesus - I don't get it - he has a single apartment - why the fuck do they come up here to disrupt my sleep?