It’s times like this where I wish Ashley wrote here, because she would have a field day with the Ides of March. She’d also end up writing about the Bastille, Boxing Day, and probably Sadie Hawkins day, but at least the Ides of March would rock.

I hate writing blogs for holidays. Like St Patrick’s Day is coming, and I almost don’t care at all about it.

Personally, there’s only so many things you can write about certain days. I’m not going to write about the Romans to celebrate it. I don’t want to talk about the significance of how today you will probably encounter something that brings you bad luck.

So instead, I’ll talk about my buddy Whitters, on her way to some concert thing in Connecticut she was drooling over. Okay, so I get a text from her saying she was going to go one way, but she decided to tell her Tom-Tom to go a different way. I warned her of impending traffic if she went the way she was going, because I kind of know how that part of I-95 is during rush hour on a weekend, and that they were doing construction, to boot.

About an hour later, I get a phone call from her. Weird, but I answer thinking her lil’ GPS thing got her lost. I’m sorry, but I can’t get over how dependent we are over electronic gadgets. I will Google Map something, get directions, and then go. I’m not sure I like the whole necessity of gadgetry like that to tell me where to go, especially since it’s flawed.

One time, the ex and I were going to see a movie in Danbury, CT, so we got directions from her house. Seemed simple enough, and we followed them to a T, only to end up in a residential area that was NOWHERE NEAR the movie theaters. We ended up asking the same guy at the same gas station for directions (he gave me two different directions, too) but finally we got to see the flick.

Anyway, she was calling because her Yellow Scene Machine was Scene no more. Apparently, it died on her. I’m going to try to remember what it was she said, but I could be wrong. It was making some kind of banging noise, but the radio was loud and they didn’t hear it until they were driving off the Interstate for some reason. She heard something, dropped the volume, and then found some gut to look at it.

The end result is that she was leaving the car at some gas station in a town that doesn’t exist on a map, renting a car from a Chevy dealer in the area, going to the concert (after getting stuck in traffic I warned her about), and hoping the mechanics can fix her car.

If not, does anyone want a doorstop? One size only, comes in yellow.