My quota wasn't reached in 2005...

You see, every year, ever since I bought my car in 2000, I've had - ahem, excuse me - my CAR has had - the uncanny ability to, in the winter time, locate icy patches near red lights and gently slide along, disarming my brakes, until it hits the vehicle in front of me. Usually, this happens twice a year.

In 2005, I've not been privy to this biannual occurance.

So I'm thinking I've either: a.) outgrown my need to "tap" the bumper of the car in front of me with my already-dented-up licence plate on my fender (a subconscious cry for attention, or perhaps my inner driver is telling me it's time for a new car, so I should bang up this one?); b.) simply just become a better driver (nahhhh!); c.) my car, being possessed, is secretly seeking revenge on me for not cleaning it on a regular basis, so it's saving up this year's expected number of times to rear-end the driver in front of me for next year, to make it a four-fold experience.

I'm guessing it's the latter.

Although, I have come pretty danged close to this event twice in the span of one week. And Donovan had the (mis?)fortune of being there for the second time.

I don't speed. In fact, I drive like an old lady. Sometimes. When I'm not in a rush. So the first time, a few weeks back, I was on my way to work, after just having spent the morning and early afternoon with my sister Leanne and her 8-month old daughter, my niece Alexis. As I reflected back on my hours spent with my little goddaughter, I noticed that the van in front of me began to stop at a set of red lights on Notre Dame, and, with there being ample space between our vehicles, I began to gently apply the brakes on my shitty 1999 Pontiac Sunfire.

Only the brakes didn't stop the car.

I was on a one-way collision course with the old lady in the Blue Blockers in the van ahead of me, and she didn't even see it coming, despite my efforts to warn her by laying on my horn. My car was sliding and gaining speed and momentum as it went. Visions of my car hitting hers filled my head, and I could even hear the crunching sound of the metal twisting as my licence plate would, once again, become tangled up in the bumper of the car ahead of me.

But then, with what can only be described as the Miracle of Christmas, my car came to a sudden and unexplained stop, a mere inch (and I'm not even exaggerating!) away from the van in front of me.

The lady in the van hadn't even noticed. I guess she had her CJOB cranked to the nuts and couldn't hear my blaring warnings of my car horn.

The light turned green, and after I dry heaved for a moment, I proceeded to make my way to work - only this time, driving 10km/hr the entire way and shaking uncontrollably.

I can laugh about it now, and I did a few days later, when I was recalling the story with Donovan in the passenger seat after I picked him up from work. I swear to God, my car had chosen that exact moment to scare the crap out of me once more by re-enacting the incident from a few days prior, only this time the van was a gino-mobile. Again my car failed to stop when the brakes were applied, and again my car stopped within an inch of the other car.

Now I carry an extra pair of undies in the car for both Donovan and myself.

The lesson I've learned: 1.) my car IS truly possessed (don't even TRY to read the time on my clock); 2.) driving like an old lady not only makes me a better driver, but also saves on gas; 3.) the best prevention for the new year is to strap chains on my tires.

I can only speculate, and had better brace myself for the fact, that in 2006, I will rear-end vehicles on 4 seperate instances to make up for the times I didn't do it this year.

The moral of the story: if you see me on the road, stay the heck out of my way!

Currently listening to: the intro loop of my new favourite show, 24, on DVD, waiting for us to indulge in yet another exciting episode!