Why I love the subway, hate driving and had a cannoli for breakfast

7:50 a.m. - leave to drive my daughter to the bus stop. Beautiful day, on time, not late, not rushing, not speeding. Seat belt on. Obey all stop signs., red lights and yields.

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I need to say - I more than obey those things - I am manic about it. I have been hit:

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- at a stop sign

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- waiting at a red light

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Being slammed into while standing still has made me stay off the highways (a bit fearful now of errant drivers at high speeds), limited my work availability (I have to be able to get there avoiding highways) and a too-cautious driver. (Not long ago, a police officer had to "wave" me to go at a Stop sign when I wasn't sure who got there first - so waited. He was clearly annoyed).

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7:55 a.m. I am in the right hand lane of a 30 mph street so everyone else can speed by me in the left lane. Stop. Turn. Stop. Go. Police lights in back of me.

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7:56 a.m. Stop.

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Officer: "Do you know why I stopped you?"

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Me: "No." (And I had no idea.)

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Officer: "You made a perfunctory stop at the Stop Sign. You did not stop long enough. Do you have insurance?"

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Me: "Yes."

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7:57 a.m. (Going through glove box. Pulled out two insurance cards. Expired. Going through every oil change my husband has left in the glove box. 10 seconds pass.)

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Me: "I have it. I know it's here."

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(Officer gets call and goes back to patrol car. Claudia finds insurance card and hangs it out the window.)

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7:58 a.m. (Daughter calls boyfriend at bus stop to come and get her. The bus to the U leaves at 8:06 a.m.)

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8:03 a.m. Officer returns to car. With ticket. For not having insurance.`

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OFFICER: "I'm doing you a favor. You just need to take the ticket to the courthouse and show them your insurance card and the ticket will go away."

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8:04 a.m. (Aha! So Officer did see my current insurance card hanging out the window. And called it in anyway. As it turns out, there is no ticket for not waiting long enough at the Stop sign. It seems he felt obligated to write me up for something. He clearly did not want this to be a waste of his time.)

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8:05 a.m. Boyfriend picks up daughter.

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(Officer lets me leave with ticket for something that is erroneous and he knows it is erroneous because he gives me directions as to how to go about getting it expunged.)

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8:06 Follow daughter and her boyfriend to bus stop. Watch them park, run to bus and with a sigh of relief go home.

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8:20 a.m. Prepare broth and noodles.

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8:35 a.m. Have pasta and noodles for breakfast.

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9:00 a.m. Still stomping around the house muttering to myself. Call the license bureau. Must keep calling till the ticket comes through so I can have it expunged. (Each call is 15-20 minutes waiting on the phone. It takes 1-7 days for ticket to go through.)

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I wish they would end their "Menu" with, "We appreciate that you have no life and can wait for us to service you."

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9:15 a.m. remembering the olden days when customer service included the customer.
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9:16 a.m. Stomped around the house some more. Dog went out. Cats disappeared.
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9:17 a.m. Remembered the cannoli filling in the fridge.
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9:18 a.m. Prepared and ate a mini cannoli.
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CANNOLI FILLING:
One 14-16 oz. container of firm, whole-milk ricotta cheese
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp citron (I don't use citron)
1/4 cup small chocolate morsels (oh! I use more - do I ever!)
Optional: crushed pistachio kernels, chopped dried fruit; sprinkling powdered sugar over filled cannoli
Beat ricotta and sugar till combined and almost smooth (too smooth and it may be a bit runny - it will taste great but be liquid-y).
Beat in vanilla and Cinnamon and citron (if using). Fold in chocolate chips or dried fruit or pistachios.Fill just before serving (or shell gets soggy).

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9:30 a.m. Sat down to vent on blog. Sated. My chubbiness grows.
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I ponder life. I wonder why 30-something police officers feel compelled to speak to middle-aged women as if they were scattered five-year olds? Do they take a class on that? "Middle-aged women badgering 101?"
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In my chubbier state, I dream of subways. Crowded, smelly, dark and inviting. There are no stop signs where you need to count "One Mississippi, 2 Mississippi" before you go on. There are no bored police officers. Wait! I take that back! That brings me to a NYC memory of the time my daughter (dressed to the 9's in high heels and a long dress) needed to jump the turnstyle after swiping the E-Z Pass three times - without it going through - and we got approached - by a bored officer in the subway who wanted to have some fun ...