I feel that I should be careful, lest this Blog turn into just an inventory of "All Things That Meredith Hates." I do hate a lot of things, though, including motorized wheelchairs (and often, the people in them), pudding, artificially blue foods, and my sunroof.

Lately, I've discovered that while I love driving, I hate drivers. (This falls in the same category of Hated Things that acting and actors falls into, and I'm sure I'll dive headlong into that topic at another time.) Driving is fluid and soft and wonderful. It's one of the only things humans can do that will make them feel absolutely weightless and in control. Like swimming. Drivers, on the other hand, are mean-spirited, ridiculous folk who have little concern for the well being of anyone who is not in their particular vehicle.

Drivers without passengers are the worst. I like to think they're just lonely, but really, I think it's one of those things that has to do with having more concern for your family and friends -- or your dog -- than you might have for yourself. I used to spend a lot of time with a relatively impulsive driver who, when I would grip the door or my seat in fear, would assure me, "You're not going to die while I'm driving" or "I drive safer with you in the car... really." Why is that a part of human nature? Flirting with death. I just don't get it. There's a lot of other -- better, warmer -- things to flirt with.

Driving in Pittsburgh is another sort of beast. (Read that again. It's funny. Don't you picture a beast -- big and hairylike -- just driving a little VW Bug around the city? The English language is fun.) I hate the Pittsburgh Left, and the stupid, stupid parking lanes (but not between the hours of 4 and 6pm!) and the stupid, stupid drivers with big hair or mullets or sandwiches. (The ones with sandwiches are often the worst. Have you ever seen the size of a Pittsburgh sandwich? They're immense.) I swore to my sister yesterday, after having several of these mullet-people pull out in front of me without warning, that I must have some sign attached to my car that reads: "Go Ahead. I Won't Hit You."

There must be a button for that somewhere in the car. I'll be darned if I'm not going to find it.... and smash it to smithereens.