What if you could wish me away?

So, I just read one of my journals that I took to England. I wrote in it 3 times, and then gave up.
Seriously... that is sad. I really wish I had wrote in it more. I wish I had saved those memories... no matter how bad some of them may have been, it would have been nice to remember.

I suck at chronicling my life, don't you agree?
You must, I can barely write on this thing more than twice a month. I will try to, I promise.

Hell, why I don't I start by telling you how disastrous these past two weeks have been?

Hubert has brought me nothing but bad luck... seriously.
I love him with all my heart, but seriously, I might stop driving that thing if things continue to go wrong.

I've gotten a speeding ticket (which you get to hear about in a moment...), I've hit a car, I've ALMOST hit a few other cars, I almost died, and he just continues to cause me money problems.
Okay, obviously the money woes are to be expected, but still! I like to blame Hubert, because it's easier than blaming myself.

Anyways, I know you all want to know about the speeding story, no?

Here goes:
So, I'm coming home from my grandparents' house in Kelowna, and we're ('we' being Anna and I. I don't talk about myself like I am a king... well, not often) making good time. Until we hit Revelstoke, or just after Revelstoke, I should say.

I'm going at a steady 99 in a 90 zone, and BAM! around the corner, there is a long line of slow moving cars. Seriously. The guys are going no faster than 70 km/hr. 70! IN A 90!
Now, if the weather was bad, I could understand the need for slow speed... BUT IT WAS PERFECT. BEAUTIFUL OUT, INFACT.

So, I, of course, was infuriated.

Anyways, I'm inching along, just waiting for a passing lane, so I can pass all these freaking turtle-paced drivers. You could imagine my relief when I finally got a passing lane. Seriously, I am going to make you imagine it.
Imagine you are waking up in the morning, only to realize that you have no clean underwear left. You are in a panic. You don't know what to do. So you do the only thing you can do...SEARCH EVERYWHERE.
And then, just when you've almost lost hope, you find an old pair of underwear stuffed at the back of your drawer. They may be old, but they are clean! And you are so relieved to have found them. This passing lane was my clean underwear.

Anyways, I am in the passing lane, crusin', passing all the cars, when I see that my lane is about to end. So I freaking better get back into the other lane before I get squished into the oncoming traffic, and I become a Hubert sandwich. Only one problem...

NO ONE IS LETTING ME INTO THE OTHER LANE.

So, naturally, I panic a little.

I do not know what to do.

I search the traffic frantically for an opening, and after what seemed like a hopeless search, I see an opening up ahead. I decide that I better get my ass up there before the lane ends, so I speed up and pull into said spot in the traffic.

I was so happy, seriously, it was like another pair of 'clean underwear'.
Except... this pair of underwear was merely just an illusion. IT WAS NOT CLEAN.

I ended up pulling in right behind a cop, who thought he would be so sweet as to pull me over.
For speeding.

UM, EXCUSE ME SIR, I WAS TRYING TO SAVE MINE, AND ANNA'S LIFE. NOT TO MENTION THE LIVES OF THE PEOPLE I COULD HAVE HIT, OR HIT ME, WHEN I GOT PUSHED INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC.

Asshole.

So, he pulls over as soon as it's safe to do so, flashes his lights, and then tells me to pull over.
I will admit, I had a strong urge to pretend I didn't see him. I had an urge to keep on going. But sadly, I did not listen to said urge.

I pulled over, and the only thoughts going through my head were "Shit.Shit.Shit. I don't have the money for this. Shit.Shit.Shit!"

I rolled down my window as he started walking up to the car.
He bent down to my window, and said
"DIDJEWNOUWRRRGOINWUNTWENTIEEEFYVINA90ZOWN?"

I just looked at him trying to figure out what he had just verbally exploded into my face, and could barely make sense of it. So, confused, and nervous, I replied with "It was a 90?"

Like, seriously, Kaylee. You know it was a 90. You are not an idiot, and you are not blind.

So, he scoffs at me, and says "Yes. It was a 90 *snicker*, and you were going 125. LICENSE AND REGISTRATION PLEASE." And then as soon as I give it to him, he walks away, not giving me a chance to explain myself.

APPARENTLY, his initial statement was "Did you know you were going 125 in a 90 zone?"

Had I known he had said that, I would have replied with "No, officer, I wasn't. And I have I witness here that can vouch for that. I would like to see your proof, of this alleged 125."

Actually, I probably wouldn't. I would probably say the same thing I did, because I'm a dumbass.

On with the story! (ridiculously long story...)

He then comes back to my car, and hands me a nice $196 ticket. Then says "ifyoupayitwithin30daysyoucanget25dollarsoffofyourticket."

Gee... for a man that hates speeding so much, he sure does talk fast. How ironic. (yes, I know, not really.)

AND THEN.
ANDNNNNNDNDNDNDNDND THEN.
HE HAS THE NERVE TO SAY "Now be safe pulling out of here. And have a nice day"


YEAH, EFF YOU TOO, BUDDY.
AND EFF MY LIFE.


I was in a bad mood for the rest of the day.
And definitely regretting not listening to my urge to not pull over.

I sent a letter of appeal, because I am NOT paying that stupid ticket.

I expect my court date to come in the mail sometime next week.
EXCITING.

And just my luck, that even though it was RCMP that pulled me over, I'll have to go all the way back to Revelstoke to fight it.
Stupid out-of-province tickets.

Who knew that story would be so long.

Hope you've enjoyed.

Hopefully I'll actually update more often.

Maybe even tomorrow!