National Lampoon's Hurricane Evacuation

Okay, all told, things were not nearly as bad as they could have been. First of all, as most of you know by now, the hurricane eased up to a category 3, and made landfall significantly east of the Houston/Galveston region. My mother and I joke that mi abuela (my stepfather's mother) has a direct line to God, and that once He realized that someone related to the Gillettes was in the line of fire, He quickly took steps to divert the storm. Still, it was an interesting trip.

The drive from Houston to Dallas is supposed to be about 4 hours. Well, unless you're camping out under a rock (or, like me, don't get any TV stations to come in) you saw the footage of 45, bumper-to-bumper and at a virtual standstill. But that's just the beginning.

I gave up on work about half an hour after I got back from lunch, when I realized that ALL I was doing was watching my hands shake and wondering how my babies were. I went back to the house, packed up some last-minute things, and (thank GOD) changed into jeans and a tank top. Two hours into the drive, which was only about 8-10 miles from home, the van died for the first time. No panic yet, I pulled off to the side and hyperventilated for a while, then it started up again.

Two miles later, same thing.

Two miles after that, when it died for the third time, I was near hysterics when I called the Motorist Assistance Program. The cop pulled up behind me shortly thereafter and informed me that I was overheating. With the help of a wrecker, I pulled off the road and into a gas station, where I let the car sit in the shade, got myself an ice cold beverage, and waited an hour. Then, back on the road. With no A/C. Yes. In 90+ degree Texas heat, NO AIR CONDITIONING.

Fast forward to right around midnight. By this time I've been on the phone with various members of my family, assuring them that it is slow going but all is well. Meanwhile, I have somehow managed to curb my natural tendency toward road-rage, but now I am exhausted. I was irritated earlier on by three busloads of inmates in TDCJ buses, who were cheering and catcalling as we sat next to each other in traffic- apparently they appreciated the fact that I was blasting the radio, almost as much as they appreciated the aforementioned tank top. There were times I felt like yelling, "Been there, done that, fellas - no more cons for this gal!" but I refrained... So anyway, midnight comes and I finally need to pull over and rest. The freeway is only two lanes wide (I am still around the Woodlands/Conroe area) but the shoulder is also two lanes wide, plus there are construction barrels blocking off the shoulder every couple hundred feet. So I pull over in front of a set of barrels, as far over as I can get, figuring that people won't be approaching my rear at high speeds this way, and I'm far enough over that emergency vehicles can still get safely by.

After the second pair of ambulances comes within six inches of slamming into me, I decide maybe it's not nap time after all. I pull back into traffic...

And there, my story shall end for now... More to come, but I suddenly noticed how much the 20 cents a minute at Kinko's is adding up to. Yes, we are still in Dallas as of late Sunday night. I will probably head back tomorrow evening, Barb and the girls will stay until Tuesday at the earliest. But rest assured, the rest of the tale will come soon.