I thought the speed limit sign said 54...

Traffic School!
How do I love it… Let me count the times… Um 5, maybe 6. I would ask the people who "keep track", but they don’t know. How do I know that? Because I have gone 3 times in two months before (something that is only supposed to be done every six months). Anyway, that is old news, and an old habit, or so I thought.

Not so! A few weeks ago I got pulled over for speeding. I don’t speed. My race car on the other hand is out of control and I simply can’t keep it from gradually picking up speed while going down hills, while it softly whispers in my ear “all is well in Zion” and leadeth me away carefully down to traffic school, in the basement of the PG library. (The said race car has since been driven by my sister Angela and these allegations have been confirmed)

Here I am having a nice little roll down 500 N. when I see the flashing lights. I don’t get too worried because he can’t be after me; I wasn’t speeding. But he is after me, so I stop and roll down my window and wait for the silly billy.
Police: Know why I pulled you over?
Me: No.
Police: Speeding
Me: Not me
Police: Were you in a hurry?
Me: No
Police: Late for something?
Me: Nope, just going with the speed of traffic
He asks for all the usual stuff and I give it to him. He comes back and says:
Police: I am going to do you a favor today.
Me: (Oh goody he is going to give me a warning)
Police: I am going to write this ticket for less than you were actually going.
Me: Are you kidding me… What is wrong with you people? What does a girl have to do to get a warning for once in her life?!!

He tells me to sign the ticket and I scribble angrily all over the paper. He starts to hold up the little blue paper to tell me about traffic school. I rip it from his hands along with my copy of the ticket, throw it on the floor next to me, say “whatever”, roll up the window and drive away.
Well obviously I didn’t learn my lesson, and so…

Later that night around 11 pm I am driving to my apartment in Provo, just taking my time. I see the flashing lights and realize that they might have been flashing for a while. I think this is a dream because it can’t be happening again so soon, but it is not a dream. I pull over and I get nervous because this is twice in one day and I am sure he is just going to take my license away.

Police: Do you know why I pulled you over?
Me: No, honestly I did not think I was going fast.
Police: Well you were going 54 up the hill in a 40 zone.
Me: Are you serious? I thought I was just driving the same speed as everyone else.

I reach over to pick up this mornings ticket from the ground. He gets nervous and puts his hand by his gun because he thinks I am going for the machete I keep under the passenger seat.
Me: Well I hope you are not going to give me a ticket because I already have one.
He looks at me like I am a moron and sees that I am about to lose it and says carefully:
Police: You think that would remind you to be a little more careful
Me: Yeah, you would think (I totally lose it and start to cry because I feel pathetic)
He asks me for my license and registration and I fumble around to find them, but don’t know what I am doing. He tells me not to worry about it and says, “You know what I can see that you are obviously having a rough night, so I am just going to let you sit her for a minute and compose yourself. Then try to stay awake and pay attention” I thank him and keep crying.

What is one to do with a race car like mine. I mean, I guess I should have known when I bought it and they asked me to pose by it for Race Car Magazine (pictured below) but honestly how can they expect me to drive just 40 mph on state street?