She tries her luck with the traffic police

Yesterday, I went to court.

I got caught going twenty miles over the speed limit on I-81 which runs through JMU. 85 in a 65. Brilliant. I didn't even make up some excuse at to why I was speeding or cry or anything when I got pulled over at 10:50pm on the Wednesday night before I was to meet Tori Amos.

It was my first ticket ever, so I go to court in downtown Woodstock, Virginia and listen to the judge chew people out for going 78 in a 65. I'm sitting there with my dad thinking, "Shit. I'm dead."

"I don't care if your cruise control was broken, anything over 65 on 81 is speeding," the judge says to some poor guy who thought he could talk his way out of his ticket.

I get up there and plead guilty, because, let's face it, I can't deny the fact that I was speeding. I speed more than I'd like to admit and it was honestly just a matter of time before I got caught. And anyone who has been in the car with me knows what a lousy driver I am. Anyway, to my surprise, he knocks it down to 79, charges me 100 bucks and sends me on my way because it was a first offense.

Whew. Sweet. The DMV doesn't even get notified and my insurance won't go up and no points get put on my license. And my dad was there to pay the bill.

I got lucky.

In other news, last week my Uncle Chris broke up with his girlfriend that he met on the internet because she wanted to have sex too much. Weird, huh?

It's cool though.