Crash Adams

Guys, I have to share something with you that happened weeks ago that I never blogged about because, quite frankly, I was still getting over it.

I got into a car accident and it was my fault.  There. I said it.

No one was hurt, fortunately, and in fact, after learning that the other guy was driving on a suspended license and had no car insurance I felt less bad.
But either way, it was the first car accident I'd ever been involved in so the whole thing was so freakin' traumatic for me.

I was crying at shaking at the scene, where the cops probably thought I was a crazy lady, as I kept handing them my license and registration, "here's this. Do you need this? How about now, do you need these yet?"
I didn't really know what else to do. It was the first thing I could think of.

They probably thought I was even more ridiculous when they asked me where I was headed, and I looked away and mumbled, "the Backstreet Boys concert." Yep. On the way to the Backstreet Boys concert this happened:

Did you think I was going to let a car accident keep me from Brian Littrel? The police officer was like, "Yeah I'm working that event, so I may see you down there!"
Oh. Cool.
After an entire night, during the concert, of trying to forget about that-which-shall-not-be-named (ahem, the accident), I couldn't help but cry all the next morning at work; I finally asked to go home, then went home and cried some more. Nate tried to make jokes about it and give me a hard time,  but I shut that down real quick.
Too soon.

BUT, now that my car is almost done being fixed (I've been car-less for over 3 weeks now) and I've taken the online driving school class for my ticket, I think I'm finally over it and ready to put all of this behind me. Even though I try not to think about that-which-shall-not-be-named, I can't help but reflect a little on the whole experience.  In doing so,  I've come to a realization - the accident really wasn't my fault.
It was my alter-ego: Crash Adams (You can thank my husband for that name. Crash cause, well, I crashed, and I was on Adams street when it happened) ...Kinda like Beyonce's Sasha Fierce, except way less glamourous and little more wreckless.

In all the 11 years I've been driving, I've never once been in an accident.  I'm a careful, cautious driver. I've never applied mascara, deoderant, or tried to shave my legs while operating a motor vehicle; it's just not in me; so I figured it had to be something else that caused the accident. Someone else. Enter my alter ego, Crash Adams.
Crash Adams is a bold, brazen driver. She thinks she can successfully cross six lanes of traffic in rush hour, in Downtown Phoenix, with nothing but a stop sign directing traffic. Traffic lights? Who needs 'em when you have the guts and glory of Ms. Adams?
Crash Adams only looks left, then right, and omits the "left again"...what a waste of time.
Crash boldly tests the durability and safety of the Hyundai its manufacturers so boldly claim. Two points for Hyundai. We didn't die.
She even leaves the scene of the crime with her emergency brake unknowingly activated and drives four blocks with the car ferociously dinging in her ear and it doesn't even phase her.  
Ms. Adams could care less about the thought of a traffic citation - in fact, she welcomes it; her driving record is so spotless, she can take Defensive Driving School and it's like it never happened.
See? Blame it on Crash. It's all her fault. She makes me do bad things. What a B.
Hopefully we can go another 11 years without Crash Adams rearing her ugly head. And trust me, it's ugly. Just look at the above pictures (sad face)