As many of you may already know - especially, those of you who know me in real life, but like me...um...anyway - I am NOT the best traveler in the blogosphere.

No, I don't mean surfing your blogs - that would fall under the category of "things mommy actually LIKES to do" - and I don't mean in real life, either.

Put me in a car, strap the kids down with a few snacks, turn on the radio, pop in a piece of bubble gum (sugarless, of course) and I'm good to go.

Planes and trains - not so much.

"Um...okay, if I have to be in the city by 11:00 a.m....and the train leaves the station at 9:30 a.m....and arrives at 10:30 a.m...wait...uh...if the train leaves the station..."

No, I don't have a problem with doing the math - as long as it's simple and doesn't go above a fifth grade level, maybe - in fact, over-thinking a simple trip, by myself (yes, I said traveling without the kids) less than a few hours away, to the point of total loss of intelligibility, is one of the things I do best.

Because you just don't know what could happen!

Unless, you've gone anywhere with me - right, Kate! - well, then you perhaps don't really know how truly spazzed-out a misadventure can be.

"Ticket please."

[snapping gum]

"Oh...hi...okay...here...um...this train goes straight to the city...right?"

[click]

"Yes."

[snap]

"I mean, no stops?"

[click]

"No."

[snap]

"No changing trains."

[click]

"No."

[snap]

"Any chance you may be on the wrong train?"

[click]

"Nope."

[snap]

"Um...okay...so far, so good."

[places ticket into holder thingy]

"First time traveling into the city?"

[stops chewing]

"No...why?"

I meant to ask the nice conductor one more question, but...well, you know...he did have other passengers to take care of.

Actually - as crowded and, you know, stinky as trains can get - what I thought could be the worst part of the trip turned out to be very relaxing.  We passed the station near the house where I was born, another where I grew up, where my husband kissed me for the first time and the one near the exit running beside our first apartment.

Hey, I live in Jersey...remember?

"Pssst...hey lady...um...your hand?"

Oh my Dog!

"I'm so sorry...I was just thinking...you know...my kids...um...my, you've got very soft hands...uh...for a guy."

Shit.

Two minutes into the city, by myself, and I'm already being accused of making an indecent proposal

No matter, he got off...THAT IS...I meant to say...we DISEMBARKED without further incident and I found my way to the exit, where they told me to go, because I had it written down, once on paper, and on the palm of my right hand, and only then did I realize...holy crap...I forgot my gloves!

Did I mention it was 10 degrees - that's almost single digits, people!

No matter, they said a car would be waiting...brrrr...just around...holy crap, is friggin' freezing...around the corner...nope...not mine...nuh-uh...not that one...hey, mister...put a friggin' name tag up...oh...you're not waiting for anyone...um...anyway...holy crap!

After fifteen minutes - about the time Bill Evans says my hands would freeze and, you know, fall off - I finally figured out that there was no car waiting for my frozen ass, clearly ready to fall off.

"Um...hi...it's Liz...oh...uh, you know...we spoke, yesterday...oh, yes...well, that's because my face is frozen and I can't feel my lips...anyway, the cars not here...no, I'm waiting outside the station...it's really, really cold out...oh...okay, I'll go inside...thanks."

[click]

Who knew there was, like, a big difference in distance, between 7th and 8th Avenue?

[knock-knock]

"Bi...by bame biz, Biz...I bink boo bar bare bore be?"

That's Tella-frozen-Tubby talk for open up, dude...it's frickin' freezing out here!

"I'm sorry, Ma'am...but, I'm waiting for a customer."

I could move my scarf away from my face - if it weren't already frozen to my lip gloss - and it would have probably helped to have, you know, the confirmation, still sitting on my kitchen table.

"Bat's bee...bore bating, bore beeeee!"

[rolls up window]

Phone rings, his eyes go wide, he opens door and I dived into the backseat of his car!

"Oh...I am soooo sorry."

[shaking head]

"No...by bault!"

The poor guy couldn't stop saying how sorry he was and asked if there was anything he could do to help make me feel better.

"Beat me up, baby!"

Silence.

I meant heat...heat me up...like, put the heater on full blast...but, you know...I was so cold...and my lips were still a little...oh, forget it.

At least, I made it on time and he was nice enough to talk to me the whole ride, because...well, he had to, considering all the construction and the huge traffic jam that seemed to have caused other people to be late.

Having read about my latest misadventure, now you know.

My husband was very glad to be able to stay home and take care of the kids and a little proud of the fact that he did NOT have to, you know, sit next to me and hold my hand, unlike some Daddy-types, who did - sit next to me, I mean.

Because, I am a magnet for misfortune - hear me hummmmmmm!