Sublimation

From Dictionary.com: (n) the process of converting and expressing a primitive instinctual desire or impulse to a form that is socially or culturally acceptable

A few days before I flew to Arizona for my sister's wedding, I went to the grocery store. Not because I needed food, but because I wanted to get out of the house. And grocery shopping is one chore I enjoy. Here's a list of what I bought on that lonely Saturday night sojourn:

1 pint strawberries
1 box fudgsicles (my low-fat attempt to wean off of ice cream)
2 pints cottage cheese
1 box fresh baked peanut butter chocolate chunk cookies (18 count)
1 liter Splenda Diet Coke (since I'm off aspertame, see dorway.org for why)
1 frozen Amy's organic pizza (to prevent me from ordering out)
1 bag Dole's Cole Slaw (my anti-guilt offering or just some fiber to keep the rest of it moving?)

There was actually an attractive single (no ring) man in the line ahead of me. As I placed my items on the counter, I looked down and got embarrassed. Could my food scream "Undersexed single woman!" any louder? No, I don't think so.

Years ago, I became aware of what your groceries can say about you. I was 23 years old and had gone to the Kroger late at night. Then too I had Diet Coke, ice cream, frozen pizza, and some vegetable/salad. An elderly African-American gentleman behind me chuckled to himself. Then he told me he was amused because I was buying a bachelorette's dinner. I laughed and knew he was right. I just didn't think I'd still be doing the same thing on a Saturday night 7 years later.

****
For 3 years, I had no appetite for food, because of the stress. Now, I wake up hungry--not with real hunger, but with a voracious appetite. Some days I can't eat enough, I can't fill the emptiness or satisfy the desire gnawing on my soul. I actually daydream about eating.

I know this for what it is. It's sexual frustration, sublimated lust and desire. My body screams for sex, so I shove food in my mouth to stifle the sound. I can't get what I really want, a man, so I try to bury the want with food. The worst thing is that even after I eat a lot, I'm just as hungry as before. Because the hunger isn't for food. There is no filling this void. I have to learn to ignore this appetite too.

There are celibate men and women who stay thin, right? So it must be possible. I must learn how to sublimate my hunger too because if I get any bigger I'll be hurting myself. I need to change my behavior NOW. I wish they'd taught us how to sublimate sex in Young Women's instead of cross-stitching. (Then again, imagine your YW president trying to teach that lesson, ew.) So, I ask you, my wise readers, how do you sublimate your lust without getting fat? Any suggestions for replacing my unhealthy food habit? (I refuse to take on another eating disorder so please don't suggest vomittng.)

A merry return

The trip to Arizona and the wedding was torture from beginning to end. I don't think I can do justice to the horror. My return trip home on Saturday took 11.5 hours and I've never been so happy to see the Manhattan skyline. New York really felt like coming home. Sunday I had to hibernate to recover. I spent the whole day reading my flight novel, watching a movie and taking naps.

The problems were nothing that I anticipated. By the time the reception came around on Friday night, and the bridesmaids were 2 hours late (partly because the groom forgot the marriage license and delayed the morning wedding, and because everyone told me I didn't have to wear the dress to the temple so I had to change, and because we had to clean the house where we stayed and there were logistics problems involving transportation to the hair salon....) The other big horror came from my mother and sister being at each other's throats the entire time.

I took it upon myself to be the intermediary to keep them from fighting. Which meant that I got the abuse from both ends. Jill yelled at me more than once when I tried to help her. My mother didn't quite yell at me but unleashed her angry tongue--anger at my sister's disorganization. I don't even want to go into the details. I suppose the retelling could be quite the comedy of errors, but today, the wounds are still too raw.

When we got to the temple for the sealing, I was prepared to wait in the lobby by myself. I brought an 800 page book to keep me company. I wasn't prepared for the tears. Right when we arrived and I met my mother waiting with the in-laws I started crying. I felt so sad, felt I was about to lose my sister. Things would never be the same between us again. I also probably cried because it was the first time I could relax since I arrived on Wednesday night. Things got bad right away. When my sister picked me up from the airport she got mad at me for teasing her about her ghetto car. She has a Jetta but can't afford to fix the crashed bumper or cracked windshield. I was trying to lighten the mood but she lashed back at me in real anger. Her tension was palatable and she was also PMSing so things were not pretty. My mother was just as bad and my brother was really sick on top of that. So I think just sitting in the temple annex, my whole body was able to breathe for the first time and with that breath came tears.

Of course, the tears shamed me so I went to the bathroom to wash my face and pull myself together. Once everyone went in for the sealing, the tears came again. I also wasn't prepared for the parade of happy, beautiful couples all there to get married. All surrounded by their happy loving families. It was a lonely place to be. So I went to the visitor's center to get away from that. It also bothered me to see all these hot mo'men coming in wearing wedding rings. I was envious. And sad. I couldn't help wondering what all those women have that I don't.

When it was time for the sealing to be over I went back to the temple lobby to wait. My step mother was there so we chatted. She told me about the delay. So we had to wait another hour for everyone to come out. Then the obnoxious photographer (way too cheesy) wanted to take a lot of pictures. We were all told there would only be a few temple shots of the couple. I was not dressed for pictures. Jill's sister in law left in a huff because her children weren't dressed for pictures either. Finally all the guests were going to leave to get lunch and the photographer took the bride and groom for more pictures. I tried telling Jill she didn't have time for more pictures if she wanted to eat before her make-up appointment at 2. It was now 1 pm. She got angry and yelled at me to leave her alone.

She missed her make-up appointment and called me at the restaurant where I was with my father, brother, step mother, and aunt and uncle. She was having a fit because her car wouldn't move out of park and David had gone off with his friends for lunch and she was going to miss her appointment. Could I come get her and take her? What? I got peeved that a)her new hubbie had left her at the temple and b)she was calling me for help instead of him and c)she should have listened to me in the first place and d) we had one car for 6 people and we were all in the middle of lunch so what did she expect me to do? We didn't have room in the car for her and the other bridesmaid and the bridesmaid's husband. I told her to call her husband. She yelled at me for this. When she did call him he said he couldn't come get her until after he got his lunch. So it was his fault she was late but I guess he couldn't be bothered to fix it.

Then it looked like I would also be missing my hair appointment at the salon. I had no ride. Jill got her gear shift to move and was on her way. We went back to my father's hotel. I cried when we got there because I was so exhausted, and hurt, and disappointed that I would have raggedy hair. My step mother was sweet about it and said they would drive me to the salon, that I needed to look good. The other thing we had to do was get back to Jill's friend's house so I could change into the bridesmaid dress. Then we had to clean up after the 4 people who stayed there because the woman who had been out of town was coming home that night. Step mom offered to go clean while we got our hair done but the bridesmaid couple without a car or hotel room who stayed at the house told her she didn't need to because it wasn't that messy. At 5 o'clock we headed back for the house and it took 45 minutes to get there. The reception started at 6:30. We arrived close to 8 pm.

I looked great but couldn't have cared less at that point. The reception was beautifully done. We took lots of pictures. My bra showed in the neckline of the dress so I had to wear a pink pashmina the whole night which looked cheesy but whatever. I really didn't care anymore. My sister's emo friends were there and I had to sit at their table. Their conversation was really boring, full of that young person's chatter that is meant to impress and exhibit one's witty repartee but is completely vacuous.

There were no single men for me to flirt with, not that I was in any kind of mood. I got a lot of compliments from the family. My sister and her husband looked amazing. When they danced, they looked like a movie star couple. My mother kept complaining about his brown suit (very mod) and how it made him look like Napolean Dynamite and was too small (Not quite.) The suit was fitted and was sexy, very Steve McQueen-esque. Jill said he was going for a Beatles look. But mom had complained about his suit all week. I think she was kind of out of her mind with stress. Her criticisms were absurd and over the top and crazy. She and Jill got into a nasty fight on the way to the reception because she was talking trash about Jill's new in-laws (who were nothing but sweet to us). Jill got so offended she wanted my mother to let her out of the car so she could walk the rest of the way in her dress and white satin shoes on the streets of a desert city.

One good thing was that I was very much needed. That felt really nice. I knew I was helping my family and my sister. Living in NY by myself, no one needs me. In my everyday life, I don't have opportunities to contribute, so I really enjoyed the feeling that my presence mattered and did some good. People were glad I was there. I did help my sister and did calm down my mother at points and was able to help organize a bit by taking charge when no one else would.

I'm happy to be home. And I am absolutely convinced now that I never want to have a wedding. If I get married, it will be an elopement. The family will get a notice in the mail. I told my family this and they all seemed very happy with that plan.

The merry bridesmaid

Next week I fly out to Arizona for my little sister's wedding. She wanted bridesmaids even though she's getting married in the temple, so I'm going to be a bridesmaid. Since I'm not endowed I won't actually be in there for the wedding. Despite that she wants us in matching dresses for the pictures and the reception. The dress could be worse. However, it's doodoo brown because that's the trend this season.

I don't like brown. I don't wear brown. Ever. Scratch that, I bought my first brown pants I have owned in my whole life in the fall. That's when I had to buy my first batch of fat clothes. I bought them out of desperation more than anything else. Other than my fat pants, and some tweed heels I bought because I have a tweed fetish, I own nothing brown. Oh, except for the Coach clutch mom bought me a few years ago. (She failed to notice that my wardrobe excluded brown bless her heart--now I have a bag to wear with the doodoo brown dress!)

The dress is a Banana Republic which sis was sweet enough to purchase for me and mail to me. Luckily, I can still close the zipper. But I think I need some kind of girdle underwear... the dress is not flattering. It's made for shorter women with smaller chests. I hang out the v-neck front. Anyone with more than a B cup knows you can't wear V-cut necks. We're talking a V that goes all the way down between the girls. Well, I guess I'll just look like the slutty older spinster sister, in doo doo brown. That's OK.

Because I got me some s-e-x-y shoes to distract attention away from the dress. You can see the shoes above, the heels are 3.5 inches, and yes those are rhinestones. Yow. (Thanks mom!) They're not really my style, and the brown ones are matte instead of satiny. I think the shoes will save me from the dress. And at least now I know I'll look like a high-class hoochie, which makes it ok somehow. Jill wants us all to get our hair done together and then have mani-pedis. She said she wants us to pretend we are a normal happy family. I don't know why she wants to project that fantasy on us but, it's her day. It should be nice. Except.

I'm nervous about seeing all the family. Most of them I haven't seen in 10 years. Every single person out there knows what kind of horror awaits them at a family wedding: the pity (she's the older sister), the inquiry (do you have a boyfriend?), and then the encouragement (oh, you'll find a husband soon, you're so pretty!)--I heard that from my stepmother 5 years ago after I lost my lithium weight. Ugh. I always just want to scream at them: I've been busy because I'm getting a PhD! Aren't you people impressed by that at all??? No. They never are. But lose a little weight and they throw a party in your honor. (Even if they know you lost the weight because you couldn't afford to eat because you maxed out your credit cards in order move to the big city.)

But what are you going to do? Try to smile your way through it and eat lots of cake. (I do hope there is going to be good cake, chocolate that's not too sweet.) I also might try to milk the poor spinster routine, either that or try to play the glamorous big city career girl with no interest in things as parochial as marriage. ;)

It's all ok, right?

Grading got done yesterday. I spent 6 hours on one class. I still have another class and those grades were due today, but I'm not sweating it. The worst thing is going to be the backlash. 8 out of my 25 students that I submitted grades for, got a C- or below. Mostly because they didn't turn in their work. They're going to be angry and surprised because they didn't read their syllabi. Which means it is my fault they failed. I won't be reading my school email for awhile.

At least I got my phone back on finally. I'm a little less trashy now. Going away for the wedding will probably do me good. I haven't been out of here since Christmas.

I'm tired. Tension can wear a body out like that.My lifestyle is not conducive to my well-being. So what do I do now? Change I guess.

Overwhelmed

Can someone please tell me that at some point life gets easier? Or at least that eventually, there are pay-offs and rewards which make the increasing difficulty more bearable? I am feeling so overwhelmed today. I'm in tears. I want to go back to bed and hide under the covers for the rest of my life. I wish I had someone to comfort me for a few hours. But I don't. This post is a whiner, so if you don't want to read it, best move on now. I don't know what else to do but type.

I'm so scared for my sister who gets married next week. I want to be happy for her, but... I wish I could see what she sees in him. She is in love with the man. Has that ever been enough? She is so stressed out she has lost weight and is dangerously thin. She has had to do everything for this wedding by herself, even getting her fiancee's suit for him. And last week he told her he wanted a Superman wedding ring. She didn't think that was funny. I'll be praying for her and for them. That's all I can do.

Grades were due this afternoon but I blew them off. They only give us 48 hours from the time of the final exam to when the grades are due. That's crappy and ridiculous. In two weeks I get my last paycheck from teaching. So now I need to find a job for the summer, which scares me. Every semester my whole life changes. It's wearying. I don't know why I keep doing this.

They should turn my phone back on shortly, I just paid for the bill. But I haven't dealt with my arrest warrant yet. I need to find a new doctor because soon I'll be completely out of the meds I've been rationing since January. The last doctor I tried to get an appointment with told me it cost $650 for the initial consultation, and $275 for each appointment after so I passed. The doctor I talked to before that was all booked up. The one who referred me to him said she didn't think she could help me, I needed something more intense. Like no doctor at all? Maybe I'll call her back.

I keep waiting for the time when things will get a little easier, and waiting and waiting. I think the secret to life is that as soon as you conquer one thing, you get thrown 10 new things to deal with. It's like the increasing difficulty in video games. As soon as one level gets mastered you move on to the next one which is much harder. But in a game, you have the satisfaction of seeing your progress. Feeling the thrill of moving forward, knowing you got better and mastered something. Life is not so well-defined. It feels more like a drowning, and the water just gets deeper and the light farther away.

We slog on and on. Because we have to keep living. And on and on and on. Watching my sister struggle to put this wedding together, and it has been treacherous, merely confirms my suspicions. That the grass on the other side may look greener, but that's only because it has more weeds, is thicker and takes so much more work to maintain. But when you can't enjoy the greenness, because you don't enjoy anything anymore, then what is the point of trying to get there? How do you keep your motivation going? What keeps you from quitting life's struggle? I really need to know.

Another one bites the dust, sigh

There are networking social sites online where people can post profiles and link to their friends' profiles, Friendster was the big one a few years ago. People also use these sites to look for dates. I have a profile on one of them. I confess that once or twice a year I do a few searches for men and send a few notes out. It's an act of optimism, never yet bearing fruit. Occasionally, I even receive notes from men on their own fishing expeditions.

Last week I got an email that was very bold, compared to the usual "Hi," "Nice profile", "How YOU doing?" . . .you get the idea. The most common thing I've found is that guys send some obscure random question about my profile. (BTW, not effective, it may work as a pickup line in a public place but not on email.) So this guy sent me an actual letter complimenting my tastes and saying he was very interested, I looked like just his type. Intrigued, I checked out his profile. Whoa. My first instinct was, ok, there is something horribly wrong with this man. Why did I respond so cynically? Because he looked too good. He was Mormon, 33, very very tall, good-looking, had a successful career(according to him), and came across as charming--as opposed to the usual socially awkward bloke.

Now, two of any of the above characteristics are enough to make a man prime meat in the singles ward. I learned that the hard way by dating a very tall and very good looking man. That's when I ended up in the nasty quadrangle and gossipy envy. That man had no career, and turned out to be about as dumb as dirt. Yet, women were clawing each other's eyes out for him. As I said, in my experience, a Mormon man needs only two of these golden traits to draw the women like flies on.... And here was a single guy living in Salt Lake(!!!) still single and hitting on me shamelessly. Additionally, the man had about 30 women on his profile gushing over him and obviously in love with him.

If you are familiar with these pages, then you know what I am talking about. Comments such as the following, "He is the best guy I know. He won my heart because he is so hot and fun and cool." "Any woman would be so lucky to have this man." "As soon as I can sell my trailer and move to SLC, this man is mine so back off you B's...." Ok, I made those up. But that's what those comments are like. You can gauge a man's social skills by these swooning comments, the collected broken hearts he keeps on a string. I think most of the guys can't see them for what they are, but the ones with more than 2 of the veiled love letters have got to know and are obviously playa's.

So what was this dude's story? I thought I should find out. I spent an hour Friday night writing a long, thoughtful, descriptive letter telling him about myself. It was witty, it was open, I tried to show glimpses of my soul without being an exhibitionist. Quite a letter. Why bother? I went to all that trouble despite the flashing warning sign, "He's too good to be true!!" because I thought, "maybe". Maybe there really is a super terrific man out there who has just been looking for the right woman and he hasn't found her yet because that woman is me." Please gag me with a spoon. I didn't really believe that thought, but I had nothing better to do so I went with it anyway.

After pushing the send button, I got a reply right back. He said there was so much to say but he was so lazy could we IM? Fine, I wasn't doing anything. And there, the truth was revealed. I'm blown away by the irrationality and freakiness of what I found. Usually, I am the freaky one with the bizarre and paranoid reactions. Oh, no. Not this time. I have included excerpts of our exact IM conversation(thank you archives) because I couldn't reproduce this as well. The typos were his.

Things started out normally with greetings. He complimented my pictures. I told him I took them with a webcam I got from my ex-boyfriend....

BOY: still got that came?
BOY: flip that sucker on!
ME: Not now, I look bad
BOY (10:25:53 PM): please
B: we are beyond that
Me:no, I've had some bad experiences with a webcam and guys I just met
B: sounds like it's time ot get back on the horse

I explained to him about an experience I had one night when I was chatting with someone and went to the bathroom. When I returned I was greeted by the man and a view of his goodies, while he was enjoying his goodies if you get my drift. Personally, I think that is a good reason not to let someone you don't know show you his webcam. But despite that, I really just don't like using them, I find it weird and creepy to watch someone staring at their computer. But this guy would not let it go.

BOY:I can assure you I am decent
B: and sober
B: andMormon
B: Can you see me?
ME: I haven't turned it on
B: why not?
B: take a look
B: see who you are talking to
ME: please, I was traumatized and I need to know you better first

That last bit was an exaggeration, I wasn't traumatized but this guy would not let it go. The point was, I didn't want to see his webcam. If he was so decent, why was he so hot for me to look at him? Perhaps he knew that was the best he had to offer? His pretty face. Harumph. I don't like being pushed...

BOY:so traumatized that you can;t take the risk of LOOKING at me?
B: I an PROMISE you I am not a pervert
B: try me
B: worse case scenerio - you see I am a perv, and you save all this chat
ME: worst case scenario I get another picture in my brain that I don't want...
B: siiiiiigh
B: a 30-year-old girl who si damaged
B: I've seen this movie before

Excuse me? I have damage because I don't want your face on my monitor because I don't know you?? That's what I should have said. So I'm the one with issues because I didn't do what you wanted me to?

ME: you don't get to be interesting without some scars I'm afraid
BOY: I guess so
B: I'll guess I'll just have ot try to gauge just how much atoning you'l make me do for teh sins of past guys in yoru life before I decide how good of frineds we shoudl be
ME: ouch
BOY: what can I say... I've always been drawn to interesting girls
ME: look, I don't trust the online thing. It's nothing personal
B: a lack of trust usually isn't
B: I understand
B: As I've said, I've seen this movie before
B: it's no problem

What the...? Huh? Atoning for who, what? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME. I wouldn't let you watch me type, so that means I'm punishing you for what other men did to me? You're a head case--again, in hindsight that's what I should have said. And, aside from that lunacy, does any woman actually respond to that kind of thing? I was really mad at this point. But I kept chatting because I had nothing better to do and was curious to see what he would do next.

Despite his alleged 'understanding' he kept going on and on about how being online is not the best way to get to know someone but it's better if you can see each other, not hide behind a curtain...blah blah blah Whatever. He just wanted to know if I had gotten fat or put up fake pictures before he wasted chat time on me. I even asked him that and he said "Partly." Hmmm. I told him I would take a new picture and send it but then I couldn't get it to work, then surprise, he had to go out. He said he had fun and wanted to talk again, but yeah. I'm never going to hear from him again. Good riddance. I'm just sorry I wasted so much time writing him a letter.

Now my question to you, dear readers, is this: Am I over-reacting or was that a totally not normal response? I thought he was rude, manipulative, pushy, and . . . dare I say it, damaged?

Update on the Very Bad Day

Thanks to some very generous people, (thank you soooo much!!) I have enough money in the paypal account to make bail. Now, I haven't done anything yet. I was going to call the court from my office at school on Friday but I forgot to take the form with the contact information on it with me. If I had really wanted to I could have found the numbers from there, but after teaching and taking care of paperwork I just didn't want to deal with it.

For now, I am waiting for the money to hit my checking account from paypal, it takes a few days. When it does I will pay my phone bill and get that turned back on, send in a check for the parking ticket (which was totally unjust but I'll let that go.) and call somebody about bail. My sister said that her friend was in this situation and he said they dropped the warrant when he paid the ticket. But that was in Arizona, so there is no telling how things work here. I do know that this township probably doesn't have enough to keep law enforcement busy because the police escort ambulances and direct traffic, and answer noise nuisance calls. So I don't know what will happen. Tuesday I expect to take care of all of this.

My rent check was cashed on Thursday but I think that was my one free overdraft charge, and my tax refund came in on Friday so that covered the clothes that I bought (just barely.)

Thank you again all the lovely people who donated and all the people who sent their prayers and good wishes my way. I'm holding on. And I have an interesting IM conversation with an Utahn to relate.

Holy Crap! I'm a moron, or Why I'm getting arrested

No, that wasn't a typo, I wasn't trying to write Mormon. I am a M-O-R-O-N. There is an arrest warrant for me. How did this happen to such a nice girl? Well, first of all, I'm not that nice. Secondly, please refer to the second sentence above.

I got a parking ticket in March for the rental car. If you park in this town without a resident permit you get a ticket. I forgot to get the permit. It was a $50 ticket. I figured I should go to court and show them my lease so that I could get it dismissed. Because I am a resident and I parked in resident parking. So I called the number on the ticket. The woman I talked to about requesting a court date sounded incredulous, she said, "you didn't have a parking permit so you got a ticket." Then I said, "But I'm a resident and I parked in resident parking." And she said, "So you got a ticket." Then she sighed and got my information and said they would send me my court information in the mail. It came not long after. I was pleased with myself for uncharacteristically showing so much initiative and adult responsibility. Unfortunately, I stretched beyond my reach.

My court date was on Tuesday at 8 am. I'd lost all my confidence in my rightness and got scared about appearing before a judge and looking like a jerk. I didn't have anything to wear. It was too early and where was the court anyway? So I decided not to go. I figured they would just send me a bill for the ticket and maybe some extra court costs, that shouldn't be a big deal. EEEk!!!!! I just got a notice saying that I have an arrest warrant for contempt of court. It says I should present myself at the police station in order to post bail to save myself the embarrassment of an arrest. Frankly, I don't have money for a cab or bus fare, so if they want me they can come pick me up in the police car.

The bail is $80. I don't have $80. Which brings me to my second stupid mistake. A few weeks ago, they sent me a new debit card. It's gold and looks like a credit card. I didn't ask for it and I don't like it. For 4 years I had a blue debit card. Tuesday night I took a taxi to Marshalls so I could buy myself a new wardrobe. Again, I was pleased with myself for doing something responsible and necessary. Necessary because I have gained so much weight in the past year that I'm now 3 sizes bigger than I've been since I moved to New York. I threw out all my fat clothes when I moved to Jersey last spring. (Of course, as soon as I did that I started getting bigger.)

On Monday, a button popped off of my shirt on the subway. Not because it was old or cheap, but because the stress of my protruding flesh on the stitching was too great. I borrowed a safety pin from the receptionist at school to close my blouse before going in to lecture my classes. Very embarrassing. It made me feel really crummy wearing mal-fittling clothing. No one wants to look like a bum with pinned, taped and gerrymandered clothing, especially not in front of 30 bored students with nothing better to do than make fun of you. Thus, I needed to go shopping.

The shopping went well. At Marshalls I found a lot of clothes. Quite a haul. I paid $267 for 4 pairs of pants, 1 shorts, 1 skirt, 2 sweaters, 4 blouses, 1 pair of shoes and a bra. All of it designer and high quality stuff. Goody. Not. Today I checked my bank account to see if my tax refund had arrived (no) and had a very nasty surprise. I meant to buy the clothes with my credit card. But there was the charge to my checking account!!! I used my debit card by mistake. Holy freaking crap!!! This means my rent check is going to bounce and the bank will charge me $30. I just had $90 in overdraft fees charged two weeks ago. I hate my life. I am so sick of this.

After I learned that peice of bad news, I checked my mail and got the warrant bad news. I don't even know where the police station is. What is going to happen to me when I post bail? Will they take pictures of me and get my prints? Will I have to go back to court again? Where I'm sure they will just charge me more money I don't have. The life of a screw-up. I can't keep track of my money or apparently keep myself from getting arrested for parking a rental car on my own street. Crap. Does anyone know what will happen to me at the station? Am I the only moron in the world who blows off her traffic court date?

If you'd like to help me stay out of jail, you can contribute to:
JL's Bail Fund

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!