I love the fact that I can yell obscenities, cut in front of people who suck and give anyone the look of death if they so much as scowl at me. In person I'm considerate enough, but as a motorist I am new-born demon spawn with high-beams ready and willing (read: signal to let slow drivers know you prefer a quick journey, if necessary through them).

Case in point, today. I got up at 6:00am, ate a protein bar and drank this revolting diet shake. I threw myself down the hill with my accompanying Jazz station. The commute turned out more annoying than usual: an endless heat-wave of cars plagued by two forgotten accidents, still lurching in that "we're going 15mph and never stopping fully, but stopping frequently" routine. I had my wool coat on. It was 90 degrees (F) outside and I couldn't take it off. These are the moments I either play the apathy game or wish hellfire and diet shakes on the person who could slow 6:30am traffic.

Two rabid hours later I finally got off Santa Monica Blvd. to search for the American work day grail: a free parking space. Some car practically mounted me while I looked street after street, sign after sign. 1 hour parking, 2 hour parking, "have X permit or we'll slash your tires, you commuter filth" parking. Ah but finally, tucked in the back of a not-through street like the baby Jesus was a "no 8am to 10am" parking sign! Well, sure it was about 8:30am, but LA ordinance could kiss my ass (and I didn't get ticketed anyway).

I trekked along sidewalks--sometimes one way, sometimes the other way--over freeway/motorway on and off-ramp crosswalks. I raised my downtown LA Thomas Guide print-out like a rosary dipped in crack, letting its holy aroma lead me to the student bus for Mt. University. At first I didn't know where, or in some cases how I'd get there, but finally I found it. Free public parking and transit was now my bitch. You couldn't get more self-satisfied (and sweaty) than I was.

The lab today went extremely well. I'm starting to see that L is in the same boat I am: just another student trying to make their way in the world of academia. The main joy of this volunteer work is having L (his grad student) as a colleague. We accomplish alot of work together, banter about our discipline and talk about the real low-down at Mt. University and in general throw ideas back and forth. She's actually turning out to be a nice friend, which is something I wasn't expecting at 'work'.

After spending 8 hours there either talking or getting work done, I huddled for the 4-block dash to my freeway/motorway on-ramp. The tricky part is I usually have to move two or three lanes of traffic smack in downtown. I've had a few near hits, but so far I've made the on-ramp without too much hassle.

Unfortunately, going back home was a repeat of this morning. Granted it was 4pm and traffic for the airport was heavy, but it was appauling. I didn't care much about it, though. I was in that "screw you!" car happy mode. You know, when you've cut off a gold-platted lexus or jaguar or some guy in a sportscar that cut you off gets ticketed a few miles up?

I love driving. It's all the therapy I need at the price of gasoline.

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