I've been so busy I don't know what to write about. Between golfing, playing beach volleyball, hanging out with friends, and of course the beginning of yet another year of school, there is just too much to talk about and not enough time. However the high light of my past couple of weeks has to be the trip up to Lake Tahoe I took with my sister Erin to go to a wedding. I rarely get the chance to take a long car ride, around 9 hours, with my sister mainly because my car, which I lovingly refer to as the Stretch mobile, isn't really the most dependable car in the world. Besides the fact that the tinting on the rear window is around 12 years old and bubbling so bad that I can't see out of it at all. It's been that way now for a few years - more like five or six but who's counting? Since I've been back from Phoenix, where I was driving a car that you actually can use your rearview mirror for something other than putting your make up on while driving, I realize how terrible it is. But right now the rear window is the least of my problems.

My muffler is really loud right now, I was guessing because it may have a slight hole in it, but I have kind of been putting off getting a new one. Well, when I was putting my suitcase into my trunk before I left for Tahoe I just happened to look down and there she was, my 14 year old muffler just lying there on the ground like she belonged there. Right then I figured maybe I should have taken care of this when I got back but you live you learn. No big deal. Having to do something about my rusted muffler lying on the ground I run into my house, grab my wire cutters and a hanger and go to work on my broke car. So now, not only is my car so loud it basically announces its arrival five minutes before she reaches her destination, but everyone and their grandmother can look for themselves and see that I am so cheap I really am. The funny thing is Santa Barbara, especially campus, is full of people driving their luxury cars that Mommy and Daddy bought them and here is a professional athlete driving around with her muffler jerry rigged with a wire hanger so it doesn't drag on the ground. I think it adds character to old Stretch!!!

Anyway, I finally get up to San Luis where my sister Erin works and transfer all of my stuff into her car and we take off. I don't know if I can really describe to you how much fun the drive up to Tahoe was once I was with my sister. Just picture us, for seven hours straight, with the radio turned all the way up and us trying to sing over the radio. The last two hours of the trip we were listening to the Duets soundtrack over and over again and when we got to Tahoe Erin couldn't even speak. Even today, six days later my throat is still sore but it was so much fun.

The worst part about the trip, as well as the greatest part, was the driving. I drove about 75 percent of the time mainly because she has a new car and it is such a good feeling to drive a car that isn't louder than your radio and of course because when I drive I drive with the intention of getting to my destination in record time. There is no "lolly gaggin" when I'm driving. Some people might call it road rage but I think it is more like determination. I know I want to get somewhere and I want to get there as soon as I can which apparently for many people who drive on the freeways isn't the purpose.

Please tell me when freeways became the perfect roadway for sight seeing? I kind of scared my sister I think when I screamed at the driver in front of me, "It's the small skinny pedal on the right!!!" And then when we finally passed the car and I gave the two people in the car "The Stare", you know the one when you drive by slowly and look at them until your neck won't turn any further. Then I made Erin even madder when she saw that the couple in the car was around the same age as our grandparents. How was I supposed to know? The freeways don't discriminate between old and young.

Maybe there should four lanes on the freeways instead of three. One lane for merging and exiting, one lane for big trucks who think it is okay because they are bigger than everyone to pull into the fast lane at will and spend 15 minutes passing another big rig, one lane for people like me who have a clear destination in mind and intend on getting there this century, and the fourth lane for people over sixty. I was going to say fifty but then I realized that would put my Dad in that category and I am not ready to admit that my Dad is one of "those" drivers.

Anyway, everyone just calm down, when I am in Arizona I don't spend much time on the freeways!!!

Read Kayte's earlier journal entries:

Entry seven
Entry six
Entry five
Entry four
Entry three
Entry two
Entry one