Rehoboth Beach to Ocracoke

Started the day in Rehoboth Beach, DE, buzzed through Norfolk, VA to pick up my friend, E, at the Airport, then cruised the length of Cape Hatteras and now ending the day in Ocracoke, NC.  The attached pics are all from Cape Hatteras.  After a quick climb up and over the dunes to the beach, we continued on to the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, tallest lighthouse in the country.  On our way back to Rt 12 we got stuck crawling between two “Catfish trucks” as we like to call them (see pic).  Determined to get a picture of one of these trucks, I pulled in behind the one I was following when he pulled in for gas to ask if I could take a picture of his truck.  I asked E how she thought they’d respond, to which she replied, “um, I wouldn’t be totally surprised if they shoot you, but just try, why not . . . I’m gonna stay here though.”  Turns out, as soon as I opened my door, all the guys staring at us from the truck, put down their windows and starting shouting to me how great my car was.  I told them I was rather fond of their catfish truck as well.  After Scooter (see pic) showed me the cooler full of “blow toads” and mullets they caught that day, I told them about my trip.   They were very interested to know whether we were going to Gettysburg and whether we were into the civil war.  Regretfully, I had to confess that I had no plans to go to Gettysburg and was not particularly into the civil war.  Good day, time for a drink.

Black Audi R8 V10, license plate: Qtrax

So, I was cruising down Rt. 1 in Rehoboth Beach, DE this morning, en route to get some cards made up (because I am tired of writing the name of my blog on napkins for the ladies-one night of that foolishness was enough), when I noticed a black Audi R8 coming up behind me. The last comparison I read of a Cayman S v. the Audi R8 had the Cayman S beating the R8 in every department from handling to 0-60 to braking, but I think that was at the end of '08 or beginning of '09. At any rate, after following me through traffic for a while, this guy finally found a spot next to me and tried to take me on out of the light. Now, I was feeling good about my chances remembering this article I read and I did hold him off for a while, but then when I hit 75 in a 45 I backed off and let him shoot past me because I didn't want to kill anyone, then he backed off and I just hung right behind him waiting for a window of opportunity. That's when I saw the V10 and thought, oh, okay, forget it . . . See, the old R8 V8s only did 0-60 in 4.74, whereas my Cayman S does it in 4.5 (not that Porsche will admit that because they still want you to pay at least $20k more for a 911 that is not remotely as much fun to drive because it's so tail-heavy, and while many people will argue this point, I find that the ones that do so have never actually driven a '09 Cayman S and have absolutely no idea what they are missing). The revamped R8 engine options consist of a V8 that does 0-60 in 4.4 seconds, which would have made for a very close race, but the V10 supposedly does 0-60 in 3.9, so technically this guy should have easily crushed me instead of just catching me at 75 when I backed off.

But alas, he was clearly not a talented driver and when we hit the next cluster of traffic, I easily sliced through traffic with him trying to keep up with my maneuvers and falling farther and farther behind until I was a good 15-20 cars ahead of him at which point, I turned off Rt 1 to end our little real time comparison test because I had errands to do. I noticed his license plate was Qtrax and I'm thinking he is probably a founder or top executive at the company given the sticker price of that car. Funny about him being such a lame driver though, makes me think of all the partners at my old firm who have incredibly expensive sports cars, but drive them like scared little girls. I personally try to make my driving performance worthy of the car I am driving every time I get in it. If you can't handle a real car, don't buy one. On a related note, if you have a vanity plate, you are by definition pretty lame. In summary, Mr. Qtrax has two counts of lame against him, but gets half a win for having the faster car and I get the other half of that win for being the better driver and crossing the finish line first. Yes, indeed, half a win and counting . . . stay tuned.

Ready to Launch/Lessons #1 and #2

I hit the road tomorrow, so today I packed in a frenzy because I only gave myself two days of turn around time between traveling for two weeks and taking off on this trip. Now everyone said I would learn a lot about myself in the next few months because it's the first time I will have real downtime to reflect on my life in nearly a decade. I am delighted to report that today in the midst of my packing frenzy I had my first big revelation about myself-I am NOT "low maintenance" by any stretch of the imagination. For as long as I can remember, I have described myself as low maintenance and gently mocked the girls who needed three bags to go away for a romantic weekend or two hours to get ready for a night out. As someone who just spent the last three hours packing my "toiletries" culminating in a bathroom bag that takes up half my trunk space, I will never see myself as that lovable low maintenance tomboy ever again. I could not leave one of my three different shampoos behind, nor could I leave behind one of my two eye creams or two facial masks (one is for moisturizing and one is for refining pores-how could I just choose to not have supple skin or maybe worse, to have visible pores? which is worse? who can say?).

On a related note, while taking the train in to meet my only two friends who haven't been laid off yet at my old firm for a goodbye coffee, I was sitting next to a somewhat crazy gay boy who was going on and on to someone on the other end of the phone about how fantastic his life is now that he is no longer at the shelter because his "Puerto Rican Man" had taken him in. It wasn't long before he started describing their sexual escapades in detail ("and then at four o'clock we woke up and did it again! and THEN and six o'clock we got up and did it again! and THEN at eight o'clock . . ."-you get the picture). He had just started to give the exact dimensions of the Puerto Rican guy's little friend, when I started to pull myself up to move to another seat. Then suddenly his phone died and after swearing at it hysterically for about two minutes, he took a deep breath, turned to me and said, "Oh my god, your hair is gorgeous!" To which I muttered, "thanks," which, rather than shutting him down, sent him on a tangent about the "flawless" "windblown" look I had mastered, how I could be in an Armani ad, etc. Finally he asked me how I achieved my flawless windblown look and I had to give him the goods: "I toss and turn all night and then I don't shower in the morning." Happy? Are we done now? He replied without missing a beat, "I need to try that because giiiirl, you are gorgeous!"

So, maybe, really, I learned two lessons about myself before I even started my journey: Lesson #1-I am, in fact, wildly high maintenance (despite a lifetime of convincing myself and everyone around me how fabulously low maintenance I am); Lesson #2-There is really no need to be so high maintenance if I just surround myself with the right people . . .