Nora's Ark 01

"Nora."

The voice caused her to jump slightly. She had her earbuds in, and the music was all encompassing. It was how she had performed her work on the farm for years, especially driving the tractor. Plug the music in to here head, and let everything else fade out. The work just got done without her having to be present. But this voice had somehow managed to cut through her musical barrier, as well as the noise of the tractor.

 "Nora, listen."

 She brought the tractor to a stop, letting it idle. She could hear the unhealthy chug of the engine now over Pink Floyd's melodic saxophone. She was curious as to who was addressing her, but she felt a small tinge of fear as well. A sense that whatever they had to say would not be anything good.

She had her hand on the key to the ignition of the tractor, not quite wanting to turn it off. Knowing that if she stopped the engine, it would be a fight to get it going again. The tractor had been on it's last legs for a season and half now - it was unlikely that it would see the end of this harvest, despite the fact that they couldn't afford a replacement for it.

Nora looked around, trying to identify the speaker. She knew it wasn't her husband, Thomas. The voice was too deep, for one thing, and he was still on the roof of the barn, replacing shingles. She didn't think it was her neighbor, Jeremy, either. Truth be told, the voice wasn't one she recognized at all.

"Us and Them" concluded and "Magic Man" by Heart started to play. Nora paused the song and removed her earbuds.

There was nobody around. She was in the middle of her field, with absolutely nobody else around, and yet she had distinctly heard a male voice - an unfamiliar male voice - address her by name.

Wiping the sweat off her brow, Nora croaked, "Hello?", then cleared her throat and asked again, confidently, "Hello? Who's there?"

There was no reply. A gentle breeze blew, and the engine of the tractor shuddered, as if to say, "if we're not gonna move, I'm quitting". Nora leaned out of the tractor in order to get a better view and looked in every direction. "Anyone out here?" she called out over the idle of the tractor. She may have said it loud enough for Thomas to hear - or perhaps he simply noticed she had stopped driving the tractor, because she could see him standing on the barn roof, facing her, one hand shielding his eyes. He gave her a questioning shrug - "Everything okay?". He probably feared that the tractor had finally died. Nora gave a quick wave, looked around one more time, and began driving the tractor again. It stalled - ever so briefly - before picking back up and continuing on it's way. Nora left her earbuds out and completed her chores without music. She didn't hear the voice call her name again. That day.

At lunch, she nearly brought it up to Thomas, but decided to keep it to herself. She had imagined it was all. By dinner, she had completely forgotten about it.

Two days later, the voice woke her up at 2:05am.

"Nora."

Half asleep, and thinking it was Thomas, she muttered a "Mm?" in response.

"Nora, listen."

That same two word phrase got her attention. She opened her eyes, her pulse quickened. She looked over at Thomas, who was sound asleep, snoring lightly.

The bedroom was dark, of course, so it was impossible to tell for certain where the other person was, but it was enough to know that they were in her house. In her bedroom, even.

"Thomas," she whispered urgently. Her husband stopped snoring, mumbled something incoherent, and then started snoring once more. "Thom-" she whispered with more urgency, a little louder.

"Nora, be not afraid," the voice said.

Fat chance.

"Get out of my house!" she yelled. "We have a gun!"

Thomas was startled awake by his wife's screams. "What's the matter?" he asked, as he reached over to the lamp near their bed. Once the light was on, Nora could see that there was nobody in the bedroom but the two of them. She was breathing hard. "There was someone in here!"

Thomas instantly reached into the dresser where he kept his handgun, and drew it. He got out of the bed and headed to the door. "Stay here," he told Nora, and went to check the rest of the house. Nobody was there who shouldn't have been.

Five minutes later, sitting at the dining room table with her slightly shaken husband and three children, Nora declared, "I... must have dreamt it." To her own ears, she sounded like she was trying to convince herself of this statement.

Hank, her oldest, reached out and squeezed her hand. "'sokay, mom. I'm just glad that there wasn't really some guy in our house." The other two, Sean and Jason, followed Hank's lead as the always did, and nodded in agreement. Nora smiled wanly. "Yeah," she said, "me too."

"We have a few hours before we need to wake up," Thomas said, "Why don't we all try and get some more shut-eye?" Everyone agreed that sounded good, and the children and Thomas were all able to fall back asleep within minutes. Nora, however, could not.

 Next

oh, for the sake of momentum

so, yesterday was, obviously, a "10". And today was a "1". Two days in a row where the fictional writing has taken a backseat. Weird.

I spent a good portion of today thinking what I was going to blog about, and didn't really come up with anything suitably interesting. Probably because I'm so out of practice.

I was thinking of changing the #9 story prompt from the Choset story to something different, but I haven't decided what. I suppose I can decide if/when I ever spin a nine, huh? Part of me is against editing the post that I made back then, though, which is silly. That's what edit buttons and changed minds are FOR. [EDIT - yup, went ahead and changed it to "Holy Touch"]

We watched "This Is The End" last night (I don't think I'll do a Haiku Review of it - I'm also out of practice on composing those). It had moments that were very very funny, but overall it was just kinda dumb. Guess there are worse ways to spend two hours.

Hmm. What else?

I was thinking about Doctor Sleep (the latest Stephen King novel) earlier today, and I had something I was going to say about it, but now I've completely forgotten what it was. Ha.

I did reread The Shining a few months before reading Doctor Sleep (since DS is the sequel to The Shining, and I wanted a refresher going in), and I've picked up the Kubrick movie from the library - just need to find time to watch it. Harper wants to view it with me, too. Guess I've been spending a lot of time with the Torrances lately.

Okay, no real good way to wrap this up, since there isn't an overall theme to it - just random stream of consciousness writing, so I guess I'll do what I was going to do every  5 days during the November writing thing and do a word count.

1910 / 25000 words. 8% done!

We Could Be Heroes 01

Leann sat at the front of the room, watching as the crowd settled in. Some of the faces were familiar - Jennifer and little Georgie, Reginald in his wheelchair, Yolanda and her girlfriend Mary. Others were new, which saddened her. It seemed there were always new additions joining the group. The amount of pain that the Curse could inflict on the world was, evidently, limitless.

As the last of the stragglers found available seats, she spoke.

"Good evening, everyone. Welcome to FABS - Families Afflicted By Supers. As most of you probably know, I am Leann Riverton. My mother was Rosemarie Riverton - the first known Super." In the past there had been autograph seekers - people who were obsessed with Supers and all those impacted by them-but they had become much rarer over the last 8 months, as humanity as a whole adjusted to what was going to be the new reality of having random superheroes among them. Still, her personal bodyguards were always nearby. Some folks held grudges against the Supers, after all. And since they might not be able to take their anger out on the Supers themselves, striking out against their families was seen in their minds as the next best thing.

Some of those attending these meetings knew all that, of course. When a person became a Super, it was rare for it not to have some sort of impact on those who knew them.

Leann gave the crowd a very quick history lesson - she doubted any of them truly needed it - the entire world knew Rosemarie Riverton's story, after all. The single mother of one living in Ontario had woken one day with the ability to fly. And god-like strength. And super speed. She had several other abilities as well, all of which were straight out of the comic books, and all of which had been tested and confirmed by scientists studying other Supers.

Rosemarie may not have been the first human to have been "Suped", but she was the first who made her abilities known to the public. The videos recorded by shocked onlookers of her flying 40 feet in the air and then showing off by juggling (empty) buses went ultra-viral. The world very very quickly discovered who she was (it was not uncommon for later Supers to don disguises, or to simply try and lay low) and all of Rosemarie's family were suddenly beyond famous.

Realizing too late her error in letting the media find out about her family, Rosemarie hid them. She came home, grabbed Leann, and flew her to a remote island in the Bahamas. (Leann had had very little time or inclination to argue. She had more or less been in shock since waking up to see her mother splayed on CNN.com) Rosemarie also took her younger brother, Richard, and his wife, Marta, to the same remote island. It was there that the family finally had a chance to talk about what was going on. Rosemarie informed them that she was going to hold a worldwide press conference, and would ensure that they would all be safe. Richard was dubious.

It turned out that he had every right to be. Within a week, Rosemarie, Richard and Marta would all be dead.

Fast Food of the Gods 02

Previously

Of course I was unnerved. Friends don't speak to one another in the bathroom, let alone complete strangers. And how did this guy know my name? And what was he talking about anyway? Afraid of who? I turned my attention back to the business at hand, and said aloud, "Look, mister, I don't know who you think..." I had finished up and was turning back to better address the strange guy, but I was alone.

I washed my hands quickly, and walked out of the restroom back into the lobby. The gang was at our table, but my bathroom visitor was nowhere to be seen. I walked past my friends over to where the man had been seated when we first arrived. His newspaper was still there. I absentmindedly picked it up, and went back to where Erica, Rebecca and Andy were sitting. The three of them were watching me with mild curiosity.

"Did any of you see that old dude?" I asked.

"He walked past me when we sat down," Andy informed me. "Headed into the restroom right after you did. Isn't he still in there? I didn't see him come out."

"Yeah. He..." For some reason, the idea of discussing the "conversation" I had had with the stranger with my friends gave me pause. The whole exchange had weirded me out, and while I knew sharing weirdness made it more comfortable, something held me back. "...Well, he must have left already." I finished lamely.

Rebecca's order was called and mine right after. I got up and told her I'd get both of them. "Such a gentleman," Andy said.

I walked to the counter, pausing momentarily to throw out the newspaper the old man had left behind. As it was leaving my hand and entering the trashcan, I could have sworn that I noticed the date on the paper was not today, nor even the day before, or even a week ago, which all would have been normal. The paper the strange old man had been looking at was dated from April 14th, 1995. Who reads a newspaper that is almost twenty years old? And even more mysterious - that day was Erica's birthday.

Saved by Zero 01

You probably think you know about Zero. Even if you don't live here in Greater Heights City - the place he typically seems to show up the most - you've undoubtedly heard about his exploits. Perhaps you've even seen him a time or two. He does get around.

If you're like most people, you've bought the hype, and believe that Zero is a hero. Our savior. A benevolent super-god who stands for justice, goodness and wholesome family values.

Not everyone thinks this, though.

Some of us know the truth. 

And a few of us are planning on doing something about it.

I'm going to dig up Zero's secrets - find out who he is, where he came from, what he wants - and I'm going to expose him for the fraud that he is.

Charles - a friend of mine who feels the same way about Zero as I do - tells me that people won't buy it. That even if the truth comes out, that people are too used to seeing him as a hero to change their opinions. If that's the case --well, then if it comes to it, I'll just have to go one step further than exposing Zero.

I'll actually have to kill him.

Fast Food of the Gods 01

It was ten minutes until 3rd period was over, which meant that the class was essentially finished. The final fifteen were pretty unstructured, and just devolved into the whole group chatting. The topic du jour, of course, was where we were going to eat lunch.

Erica suggested In-N-Out, which predictably resulted in Andy making a less than clever innuendo.

Rebecca was the one driving us, though, so we deferred to her. She said she wasn't in the mood for burgers, so the Bell was the default winner. The only places close enough for us to get to, order, eat, and get back to school in time were all burger joints - In-N-Out, Wendy's and a McDonald's, with a Burger King that was iffy since it was three miles further down the road - or the Taco Bell, which was where we wound up a good percentage of the time. It was close, and it was cheap, so the downside was that it was popular, and during lunch got extremely crowded.

That wouldn't be as big an issue today, though, since Mr. Higgin suddenly announced, "If you can keep the noise level down as not to alert the rest of the school, you may be dismissed now." Instantly 30 teens began packing up their belongings to head off to someplace other than US History.  "Don't forget to read chapter seven before Friday!"

Erica and I sat in the backseat of Becca's car, since Andy called shotgun. Our knees touched, and I wondered if Erica was feeling the same electric jolt in her belly that I was. I doubted it.

We got to the restaurant before the huge rush (thanks, Mr. Higgin!) although a handful of other kids from our class were close behind. I held the door for all of our group, with Andy giving me a "Thank ya, guvnah!" with an exaggerated bow.

I noticed the old guy in the corner of the store. He looked up from his newspaper as we walked in, and it felt as though a swarm of bugs had just crawled over me. I noticeably shivered, and the old man returned his gaze to the day's news.

We ordered, and sat down at one of the free tables. Before our food was ready, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

As I urinated, I could sense that there was someone next to me. "Are you afraid of her yet?"

I turned to face the old man. "What?" ("the hell are you doing talking to me, you creepy old man" didn't escape my mouth, but remained stuck in my mind)

He didn't repeat himself, just stared at me for a half second. "Mm," he said, "Well. You will be. When it happens, Jack, come find me."

Next

FiFeLeFroWoReWriBloNo

First Few Letters From Words Regarding Writing and Blogging in November

Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

I have decided that I am going to do this writing thing again. Maybe.

I'm (once again) going to give the "blogging daily during the month of November" thing a go. But this time with added gimmick! (I do enjoy me some gimmicks.)

I have in my brain 8 different writing prompts (calling them "stories" seems too generous). I have assigned a number to each of these, as well as the two less ambitious options of  "wild card" and "don't have to write ANYTHING" , for a total of 10. Each day, I will spin the spinner from the Game of Life, and whatever number it comes up with - that will be what my blogging for that day will be focused on. So, theoretically, I *could* spin 30 tens in a row, and not have to write anything for the month. Or, more realistically, I may end up with a bunch of unfinished writings - because what if I spin "story 3" the first day, and then don't get back to it until the 22nd? And then not again the entire month? Well, that'll just be how the Universe rolls. Or spins, I guess.

Anyway, the goal is to reach 50,000 (or, I was thinking, maybe cutting that in half. 25,000 is not even a thousand words a day, which makes it much more manageable-looking), and perhaps if the desire hits me, I'll wrap up whatever might need wrapping up in December instead. (Or save it for the following November, ha ha ha) And really, the biggest thing is not to hit some arbitrary wordcount, but to actually break out of the not-writing-rut that I've been stuck in for ....a long time now.

(And look, I've kind of done THAT already)

The List:

1) Wild Card - I can blog about whatever. Personal stuff, random thoughts, *other* stories, Haiku Reviews, whathaveyou.

2) Wolflow

3) Still Life

4) Fast Food of the Gods

5) Vampire ship (some of these don't have titles,and are just to serve as a reminder for the story itself)

6) Heroes

7) Saved by Zero

8) Ark

9) Choset Holy Touch

10) No Writing

So, we'll see how this goes. November is a pretty busy month, and this one is not gonna be any different, but I'm fairly excited about this project.

Oh, and Happy Halloween!!

that's great, it starts with an earthquake

as you all know the world is ending in six weeks or so.

And what makes an apocalypse deal-able? Music.

So. I now turn to the internet - what songs would you include on your End of the World mix tape? (ha ha. "mix tape")

Here's what I'd go with:
The End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) - R.E.M. [have to start it off with the classic, of course]
Hey Hey Hey (We're All Gonna Die) - Jack's Mannequin
Radioactive - Imagine Dragons
The Very Last Day - The Hollies
Arma-goddam-motherfucking-geddon - Marilyn Manson
Present For the End of the World - Good Old War
Doomsday Jesus - Black Label Society
Eve of Destruction -  Barry McGuire
Tiny Apocalypse - David Byrne
40 Years - Paul Hardcastle
The Last Day on Earth - Marilyn Manson
I'm Destroying the World - Guttermouth
The Doom Song - GIR
She's Not the End of the World - Reel Big Fish
Big Brown Eyes - Old 97s
Astonishing Panorama of the End Times - Marilyn Manson
1999 - Prince
World Destruction - Time Zone
Zero Sum - Nine Inch Nails
End of the World - Great Big Sea

I realize that there's a good deal of Manson in there, but what can I say - he does doom pretty well.
Also, I'm not sure about the order, exactly, of the songs. Except the 1st and last.
And I know there are a good dozen or so tunes I'm forgetting right now (or just simply don't know about) so, give me your input!

don't know much about government

Was talking with some coworkers today, and (re)realized that I'm woefully ignorant when it comes to, well, a LOT of things, but, in this case, about civics and the innerworkings of our government. I'm certain that I *used* to know it all, but now...

the good (?) part is that my fellow employees were just as in the dark. None of us really quite had a grasp on the difference between the Senate and the House of Representatives, or why the electoral college is in place, or what the people we just elected to those positions stand for.

America! Fuck yeah!

who ya gonna vote for?

Kinda bummed that after today, that song will effectively become an anachronism.

Anyway. Yeah, cast my vote this morning.

The polls opened at 7am, I got in line (with about 10 people in front of me) around 6:30. Was in and out in 8 minutes. (And left seeing that the line had grown to a good fifty or sixty deep at that point)

While in line, I was reminded, as I often am when I have to venture into the 'real world', that there are a LOT of truly truly ignorant and annoying people out there. (And sometimes they're both! How pleasant!)

While inside the polling center, I was struck by how unorganized the entire thing was. Although it was organized, but there were just little things that *should* have been set up better. For example, after signing in, everyone would then have to proceed to get their electronic voter card...which required crossing thru the lines of other people going to sign in.

And having an exit other than the main entrance would have been helpful too.

But, whatever. It was really a pretty painless ordeal, and the political ad season is DONE, which is a huge relief. It would be great, though, if I could get Mitt Romney's home phone number so I could robo-call him daily for the next three months.

Hey, Grimey, how's it going?

If it were up to me, ultimately, it would be revealed that Rick Grimes has some sort of connection to the zombie uprising, and that when he dies, so, too would all the undead. That way, he'd have to sacrifice himself in order for the world to return to a sense of normalcy.

I HIGHLY doubt that either the comics or the television show will go that direction, but, if they ever do, remember that you heard it here first.

What's This?

Despite that it's only 78 minutes long, and I've "watched" it probably a dozen or more times, I've actually never stayed awake thru the entirety of The Nightmare Before Christmas.

time restrictions and writing

so, day 3 of November, and I've done absolutley no more writing on my nanovel, BUT! after speaking with Saren yesterday, my brain came up with a pretty elegant solution to the ending that was plaguing me. So, the story is more fully developed ...in my mind. It's just getting it OUT of there that is the problem.

And my latest excuse is that I don't feel like I have enough time in the day to do it.

Ironically, we went to the library today, and I picked up at least three more books (and I'm currently about 100 pages into another), and I also feel like I won't have enough time to read those. To be honest, I probably don't have enough time to read all the books AND work on my own, so there is some merit to that complaint.  Of course, we are turning the clocks back an hour tonight, so that puts a relatively small chink in the "not enough time"armor. But really it all boils down to time management and laziness, doesn't it? Need to be better at one and ...less better at the other.

I mean, I'm finding time (sort of) to blog (again, sort of) every day, so ...it IS possible. And, again, now that the plot is mapped out (once more, sort of), I really do think that once I get past the laziness factor, I'll start making some real progress.

philosopher ants

About a week ago I watched a documentary on Fire Ants on netflix. Pretty interesting stuff.
But it got me thinking about the meaning of life.

These ants all have jobs - build tunnels, get food, serve the queen - and they just DO them. Do any of the ants ever stop and question what the point of it is? WHY do they build these massive tunnels? Why do they seek out food for the colony? Why is it vital that the queen and the eggs survive?

Probably not. They just, you know, work.

But...perhaps they're onto something. They just live the life that they live, not questioning the whys and wherefores, just doing ant-things because, well, they're ants.

I'm not entirely sure what point I'm trying to make - if any - and I'm certainly not coming up with any new insights into the mysteries of life. I'm just over tired and kinda rambling. So, I'll just wrap it up with good ol' Vonnegut:

Tiger got to hunt,
Bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder, "Why, why, why?"
Tiger got to sleep,
Bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand.

Breaking the law

A few days ago, I decided that I would attempt to complete the nanowrimo challenge this year. As the end of October advanced, the ideas and excitement about writing grew.

So, November 1st rolls around, and naturally, all I'm feeling is dread.

I *did* write today, though. I managed to open up a Word Document at work, and composed a remarkable thirteen words.

Work may not be the most ideal place to write...

Tonight, when we were having dinner, I began to feel antsy, and mentioned to Steph that I hadn't written anything yet, and it was getting late... she told me to calm down, because "there is no law that I have to do nano."

Later on, she said she was going to blog every day this month. That idea sounded pretty good to me, and so I've decided that every day in November I will either blog OR work on my nanovel. And, hey, technically, today I did both.

Marcus. Last name...Salmon, maybe?

Had a dream a few nights back involving a  Russian killer. He most definitely wanted to kill me, at any rate. (I never found out why. Dreams are like that.)  The killer was a good 6 feet tall (6'2", to be precise), and he was bald, and had a bit of a long face...but it was....distinctive. Like, I *knew* him somehow...

Anyway, a few near-death instances happened, and I managed to escape, and things seemed great, because I woke up. (Thanks, cats!)

However, after feeding our furry alarm clocks, I went back to sleep....only to reenter my dream.

The killer was in a hotel, and now he'd put on a black wig. Of course, that disguise wasn't enough to conceal his identity. ...or was it? I was walking past him, and decided to act like I didn't recognize him. He grabbed my elbow as we passed each other, and he said, "I am Marcus. Don't you know me?"

And my brain, ever helpful organ that it is, decided to fill in rapid-flashback-style, all the murder attempts from the EARLIER dream. And I was like, "Oh yeah!" I *do* know you! (And seriously, I did. He was a "Hey, it's that guy!"...whose name was seriously escaping me....)

So, I freaked out, and threw Marcus down a flight of nearby stairs.

At which point, he dove INTO the fall, and kind of ...jumped like a salmon might while swimming upstream. He landed at the bottom of the stairs, unharmed, and told me that he used to be a salmon.

Which is the end of the dream - or all that I can recall, at any rate.

But it was still bugging me (in real life) WHO the actor was that "played" Marcus.

I knew if I saw the actor in something, I'd definitely recognize his face, so, today, just a few hours ago, I decided to google "Hey, it's that guy".

I went to the  third site that google turned up and ...ho.lee.... The VERY FIRST FACE WAS MARCUS!!

Mr. Ed Lauter was the Russian assassin who used to be a fish.

I am a cracked machine

take UTP@, add in P@ that hasn't eaten nearly enough in hte pasat 24 hours, and you get a Cracked machine.



Yeah, we just got back )about 15 mintues ago) from the party, waaaay on the other side of the planet. (Or valley, if you want ot be a little more specific and accurate)

I'm pretty cracked. about an hour back, i was at that starge where EVERTYHING is funny, even when it really isn't. YOu know the one. Now, I've moved on (just barely) to the "everythign is irritating" stage. And my eyeelids are super heavy.

I reallly do like the everything is funny stage, because, it seems like my brain does activate (not the word I'm looking for, but I can't think of the right one) at a higher ...something. But, unfortunately, I can't be in that phase ALL the time. Pity.

Okay. Off to bed with me.

miss the rain

we had thunderstorms the past two days (it *is* monsoon season, after all) but today's been a typical bright and sunny (and hot) day. I want my rain back.

Blah blah blah. Weather posts are boring.

Fiction writing coming in the next day or two. Tomorrow is Friday, which are usually pretty draining for me at work, PLUS we have a birthday party to attend tomorrow night, so it might have to wait until Saturday before I begin writing anything not relating to real life. Heh.

Know your audience

hm. i feel I may have used that particular title previously. Eh. Whatchya gonna do?

Anyway.

I had this thought that I would attempt to blog daily again, at least for this month. And I was thinking that I would actually write fiction this time.
I also thought, should I even bother? And I also also thought, should I just write it and not publish it on my blog?

I have a lot of thoughts.

None of them ever seem to be conclusive, which is irritating.

Tonight will not be fiction, because a) I'm quite tired and it's already nearly 10:45pm.
b) I excel at finding excuses for not writing.

So, instead. Today's blog post will simply be a gauge of whether there are people still stopping by, and also a quick opinion poll: Which of these stories should I work on, based on the title?
Stupid Monsters
Wolflow*
Still Life
Hunger Strike
Fast Food of the Gods
Evil Under the Sun

*astute readers of the P@rix will note that, yes, this would be the latest version of the ever elusive Wolf story.

yeah, yeah, that's [not] the ticket!

The last three times (or possibly four) that I've interacted with the police, I've wound up NOT receiving citations. I don't know if it's a super power I have developed, or I've got a guardian angel looking over me (the patron saint of tickets??) or if it's just all a big coincidence, but I'm not looking this gift horse in the mouth (and I'm certainly not going to push it, in an attempt to find out how often I can get pulled over and not get cited).

But, the first time was back in 2007 when we were on our trip to one of the unschooling conferences, and we got pulled over for speeding while in Tonopah. The officer simply let us go with a warning.

Then, about 3 years ago, in the middle of winter right after we had moved into this house, I had gone out to the grocery store early in the morning pre-work, and I ran a stop sign. It was freezing outside, I KNEW that the intersection was clear [well, except for the cop car sitting off to the side that I didn't see], and I just wanted to get home because our heater also wasn't working, so coming to a complete stop seemed a waste of my time.
I was completely in the wrong on this, and I probably WOULD have gotten a ticket - the officer had already taken my license and registration back to his car and was therefore going to cite me...but as he was talking to me, a car SPED by, probably doing 60 - when the speed limit on that road is 35. Another police car (his partner??) quickly followed with it's sirens blaring, and the officer that had pulled me over hastily said, "Be more careful in the future.", then ran to his own vehicle, turned on the siren, and joined the pursuit of the other speeder.

The 3rd time sorta doesn't count, since we weren't exactly pulled over. It was when we had the accident back on 2/29... but still. Interacted with the cops, and WE didn't get cited.

And, today. I was out and about, and turned right at an intersection that (apparently) has a sign above it that says "NO RIGHT ON RED". The officer told me about it, I expressed (genuine) shock and apologized, and then he simply drove off. So. Again...not sure if it's a superpower I have or what, but I am extremely thankful that I did not end up with the extra burden of having to go to court and/or pay a fine. We most certainly do NOT need that in our lives right now.