Why Jenni Should Not Be Driving, an Extension of Why Jenni Should Not Leave Milwaukee County

I tend to have this issue when I leave Milwaukee County: I get confused. Very easily. I just, I really just don’t understand the things that happen outside of Milwaukee County. Don’t get me wrong, I usually don’t understand what’s going on in this county – especially after a year in China, but the sheer amount of what I don’t understand increases significantly the second I step outside of the county.

I moved to Milwaukee about a month after I started driving on a daily basis (boarding high school – you just don’t have to drive much when you live at school). Therefore, the majority of my driving knowledge comes from Milwaukee County driving. On roads that are three lanes wide. On roads that have street lights over them. On roads where you solidly go 10-15MPH over or you get run over. On roads where you tailgate or you get cut off. This is what I know. I don’t understand back-and-forth highways that criss-cross massive states. I don’t understand darkness. I don’t understand under-the-speed limit when there’s no traffic jam. I don’t understand tractors or tillers or trailers or any of that other farm equipment that I stare at and go, huh. Wonder what that does? I just don’t get it. Therefore, anytime I leave the county, hilarity ensues. It just does. I can’t help it. Cause I just don’t understand.

I mean, why do people pull over to the side to let me pass? In Milwaukee County, the distance I was following at was more than acceptable. It was much farther away than the stuck on 45 at 5pm and I don’t want you to cut me off distance I usually kept and much, much farther away from the get out of my way you idiot! distance. So…why are you pulling over? I mean, thanks and all, but I don’t understand why you’re pulling over. Is this some sort of Minnesota thing?

And then there was the one trip that Liz and I made during a freak early blizzard. No snow in the forecast – wait, what is this? Why are we crawling along behind a semi at 15MPH unable to see anything? Where did this come from? And what’s that noise and smell? After pulling over at a grocery store to do a little shopping, we discovered that the entire front of the car was frozen over. So, what do two city girls do? Attack it with the ice scraper. We got enough ice off to open the hood – and there was the source of the smell. The fan was frozen solid, but still trying to move and therefore, burning. Great. So, we bang and hit and chip and chop and finally feel that we have accomplished enough to get back in the car and continue driving.

But the best example would have to be on one unfortunate trip out to Minnesota when I was trying to figure out why everyone’s lights that were driving at me were twinkling. I mean, sometimes they’d just be killing my eyes. Other times, they’d be fine. And then there were those times where I swore they were changing in their intensity. It took me until just past Rochester (yes, all the way from Milwaukee) to remember that OH YEAH! I have bright lights! Now… How do I work them? I found the lever thingy that had the different light bulb pictures on it, but I couldn’t get it to stay on. Let’s just say, I drove all the way to Mankato, around Mankato for the weekend, and then back into the bluffs along the Mississippi River before I figured out how to get my brights to stay on. This is why I don’t leave Milwaukee County. Because I don’t understand. Who needs brights in Milwaukee County is all I’m saying. It’s just one of those things that is perfectly understandable to forget. Really, it is. Honest.

Which is why it was bordering on insanity that I decided to do a huge Midwestern road trip. Cause I’ve driven in the past year. Like. A lot. For my first week back in the states, I was positively terrified every time I got behind the wheel. We drive SO fast in this country, I was certain that I was hurdling towards my death at all times. I was rendered incapable of switching lanes without praying, taking a deep breath, and going, DEAR GOD GET ME IN MY LANE SAFELY AND DON’T LET ANYONE MERGE INTO ME!!!! EEEEECKK!!!!!! Phew. Made it. And then I realized that I wasn’t breathing properly and my knuckles were going numb from clenching the steering wheel so hard. So, yes. Let’s go on a four state road trip. This is a great idea.

Needless to say, driving down to Chicago was one of the scariest experiences of my life. I used to love going to Chicago because there were so many lanes – I could drive over here, or over here, or over here. And I could do it while going 80MPH. It. Was. Awesome. …I have never been so glad to hit Chicago traffic in my life. Just make it all slow down and let me go my comfortable 40KMH like I was used to. And I didn’t care that I was in the lane that was going the slowest. It was too terrifying to switch. So I stayed. And then I remembered that I was going to have to park on the street at Emily’s apartment. HELP! My plan was to pull up, attempt to figure out how on earth you put your flashers on, and inform Emily that she was going to have to park my car. Because I couldn’t. I just. I couldn’t. It was just too much for me to handle. Luckily, there was a huge parking space when I got there that I managed to pull into. Sort of. It was not a pretty parking job. But I did not care. I climbed out and almost kissed the grass I was so thankful to have made it to my destination. Which is why it wasn’t surprising that I changed my plans to stay for a second day just to recuperate.

It was during my eight hour drive from Chicago to the Twin Cities that I finally became comfortable driving. I could breathe normally. My knuckles weren’t turning white. I could almost change lanes without freaking out. Almost. But I was getting better. I was almost calm again. Sort of. I acclimated decently to the cities, but then I had to begin my trek out to South Dakota. On back roads. I didn’t handle backroads well when I lived in the states. I really don’t do backroads well when I haven’t been behind the wheel much for the past year. Let me share with you a few things that ran through my head while back-roading it:

“Huh. There’s a tractor driving at me. I wonder if I’m supposed to…do something.” Thankfully, the tractor went back where he belonged before I smashed into him out of sheer confusion.

“What IS that?!” Seriously, I need a tiny point-and-shoot camera so I can record the crazy in this world. Because the majority of it, I do not understand. Especially when in farm country. Or China.

“What does this mean?” This after the semi that I had been following for the past ten miles, turned and came to a stop in the road in front of me. He, though, knew how to turn on his flashers with minimal thinking. I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. Sit behind him? I mean, why did you stop immediately after taking the detour? Should I be stopping? What is going on?! Are you going to wave me past you? I don’t understand!! …finally, all the cars that randomly had appeared passed on by and I decided to just pass him and continue on my detoured way – which reminds me. In MY American car, I have maps for every place I could possibly drive. I am a firm believer in maps – not in GPS so much, but in maps. Apparently, my grandpa was not. After much searching, I discovered an old Wisconsin map stuffed into a back pocket. This did not help me as I was on the western side of Minnesota. Had I had my maps, I could have figured out my own detour that didn’t make me go 5 miles west, 7 miles south, and 5 miles east before hooking back up into my road (after making me hardcore search for my detour sign. Stupid Minnesota that is incapable of properly labeling their roads) that allowed me to go west again. I could have just gone west. But fine. Whatever. I’ll just detour out of my way – oh, and to finish off my rant on the detours – you know it’s bad when the road they detour you onto gets detoured. That’s just wrong. How do we not have better road technology?!

“OWW!!!” After arriving in Brookings and getting a hug from Jacob. Apparently, you should not drive for 3.5 hours with your arm out your window. You get burned. And it hurts. And then your lopsided until winter when it all fades away.

And this is why it’s so terrifying that I have randomly developed a love for backroads. After the initial terror on the way out to South Dakota, I relaxed into a comfortable state of confusion while taking 14 all the way from Brookings to Rochester. I could pass people with almost no psychological preparation! And then I became even more comfortable on my way from Rochester back up to the Cities. So comfortable that when I hit Highway 60 just north of Madison, I decided to take that over to 45 instead of continuing on 94 like I always do. And somewhere along that stretch of nothingness, I started cheering on semis as they passed tractors. I blame Pioneer Woman for this. Anytime there are backroads and cows and haybales and barns and ENJOYMENT it has got to be her fault. Cause it’s definitely not coming from me. …I don’t think…

Readapting

I went out to supper last night with a bunch of friends. We ordered a round of drinks and when they got there, I promptly lifted my glass —— to no one. I looked around the table at everyone already drinking their mojitos and daiquiris and wine and sadly looked down at mine. No na zdraví! tonight folks. Even though a friend just got engaged. No cheers-ing. It’s kind of a letdown. 

Then, when the bill came, not only was there already an 18% gratuity already tacked into the bill, we also had to tip on top of it. I know this makes me sound like a terrible person, but after a year in a country where you don’t tip. At all. And three months in a country were you kinda just round up a bit, all that tipping mildly frustrates me. A lot. As does all the checking in by the waitstaff. I would rather just yell some fu wu yuar! and have them miraculously appear. 

And also, if I could stop getting so excited by 30 degrees. Hello, there is snow on the ground. Obviously, we’re talking fahrenheit and not celsius. Which, don’t even get me started on. Why on earth is America so frustratingly stubborn to not adapt the metric system? WHY?! Why do I have to make a point to learn Celsius as a 25 year-old? Why do I have to think really hard to remember which way to convert kilometers and kilograms into the stupid American system of miles and pounds? Why do I have to stare at a student when he asks me what a “MEEL” is and why we use these strange marks after numbers? Just adapt the metric system. It makes so much more sense.

And do you have any idea how creepy huge and white American eggs are? Seriously. I stare at them in shock every time I go to use one. Apparently, I find the smaller, brown farm eggs with feathers on much more comforting. You know, eggs that obviously come from a chicken verses…..whatever steroided bird concoction American eggs come from. 

This time around, after the speeds of Europe which nearly killed me, readapting to driving hasn’t gone quite as badly as it did after China. I did have some minor dizzy spells after forgetting to breathe while driving through the Capital on/off ramps with the bridge and the curve, but other than that, I did quite well. I didn’t grip the wheel to the point where I lost feeling in my fingers. I didn’t freak out every time I switched lanes — I look. A lot. And maybe pray that that car in the right lane will watch me switching into the middle lane instead of merging into me, but it’s much better than before. I even drove while it was snowing. And I was mostly calm. The entire time. I did feel the need to drink when I got home, but I managed to put that to rest and just go sleep instead. 

Dryers…..still freak me out a little. I still choose not to use them (unless I’m doing wash for my family. Then I say a little prayer as I toss the stuff in and wonder who invented the idea of roasting your clothes after you wash them.) I now expect the laundry process to take about a day to complete. I no longer see a need for it to go any faster. Oh, and just an FYI: if you buy a pair of jeans in China, hem them there to the proper off the Chinese-streets length, wear them for a year and then have them accidentally put in a dryer, it will not be a pretty sight. They will randomly be tight in the front of your legs and really loose in the rear. I’ve been wearing them for the past two days, trying to get them to stretch back into the perfection they used to be……So far, it’s not going well. 

On the up side, I did discover that there is still pumpkin spice syrup in the Milwaukee area. And it is good. Definitely worth waiting MONTHS to get. I’m so glad I didn’t miss it this year. It’s sad that what I miss most about America when living abroad are my Starbucks syrup options, right? Really sad. And yet….very, very true. No offense friends, but I know you’re not going anywhere. Pumpkin spice though. That’s seasonal.