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I had a fascinating drive home with the Wendling from driver's ed on Wednesday night. This time he didn't terrify me, but I got another flash of insight into the workings, or more precisely non-workings, of his nervous system.
He bravely decided to drive the same route home we'd gone when he nearly hit that Beemer on Saturday. Once again we were in one of two left turn lanes, only this time I pointed out to him the helpful dotted lines painted in the intersection.
There's more than one curving dotted line in the intersection because there are two left turn lanes facing north and two facing west. These lines intersect, naturally, but m'boy was confused about where each line began and ended. He was unable to follow them with his eyes. He couldn't make out the pattern of curvature which defined each line; it was as if he was seeing them as isolated rectangles of white. Guten Tag, Herr Dr. Asperger.
I reiterate that nothing immediately scary happened on that trip, but it doesn't bode well for his future driving if he can't do the low-level feature extraction on what he's seeing. I asked Aspiring Ex how he did at mazes, and she said, very well when he was younger. Hmm.
You know the Tom Waits song "Tango Till They're Sore"? Well, I did that last night. Being a taller-than-average woman, I have a tendency to slouch when trying to talk to most other women. It turns out that I do that when I'm dancing with them, too, and our instructor didn't call me on it until most of the way through the class. My back is not happy. She's 5'8", so I imagine she might have done it at some point as well.
There was a monthly beginner's tango night at Dance Underground on 15th, but I was too sore & low on sleep to take advantage. Le sigh.
I've scheduled a second date with Cat Lady after Thanksgiving. More news as events warrant.
I bought a pair of leopard print stretch velvet leggings, and finally it's cold enough to wear them. I am comfy, pettable, and spotted.
He bravely decided to drive the same route home we'd gone when he nearly hit that Beemer on Saturday. Once again we were in one of two left turn lanes, only this time I pointed out to him the helpful dotted lines painted in the intersection.
There's more than one curving dotted line in the intersection because there are two left turn lanes facing north and two facing west. These lines intersect, naturally, but m'boy was confused about where each line began and ended. He was unable to follow them with his eyes. He couldn't make out the pattern of curvature which defined each line; it was as if he was seeing them as isolated rectangles of white. Guten Tag, Herr Dr. Asperger.
I reiterate that nothing immediately scary happened on that trip, but it doesn't bode well for his future driving if he can't do the low-level feature extraction on what he's seeing. I asked Aspiring Ex how he did at mazes, and she said, very well when he was younger. Hmm.
You know the Tom Waits song "Tango Till They're Sore"? Well, I did that last night. Being a taller-than-average woman, I have a tendency to slouch when trying to talk to most other women. It turns out that I do that when I'm dancing with them, too, and our instructor didn't call me on it until most of the way through the class. My back is not happy. She's 5'8", so I imagine she might have done it at some point as well.
There was a monthly beginner's tango night at Dance Underground on 15th, but I was too sore & low on sleep to take advantage. Le sigh.
I've scheduled a second date with Cat Lady after Thanksgiving. More news as events warrant.
I bought a pair of leopard print stretch velvet leggings, and finally it's cold enough to wear them. I am comfy, pettable, and spotted.
