I know everybody's favorite stories are the ones in which I am an idiot.

Story setup: Yesterday evening found me on campus, printing up programs for today's sacrament meeting. Well, Kyle was also on campus, in his lab, so I decided to pop over and visit. when we left, he offered to drive me back to my car, since he was parked in the grad parking garage right by his building and I was parked clear across the snowy, icy campus by the law building. (I had already almost died getting to his lab in the first place!) So he dropped me off at my car and we agreed to meet back at my house. 

Actual story: I get in my car, start it up, and assess my options. I could back out of my spot, but, due to the layout of the lot, that would require making a fairly tight turn on the previously mentioned ice and snow in order to get back in the direction I actually wanted to go. Clearly, the better plan of action is to just pull through the empty spot in front of me. I mean, really; why wouldn't I do that? Well, a bump, thud, scrape, and a crunch later, I learned why. I had, for unknown reasons, failed to notice the parking block (apparently, that's what they're called!) in front of me, and now I was stuck. I tried reversing back over it, but my car wasn't going for it. And I didn't dare try to go any further forward over it. So I called Kyle. "Hep! Hep! I'm an idiotic girl who trashed her car and needs help from a manly man." [rolls eyes] I hate confirming stereotypes. Oh well.

Kyle arrives back on the scene and just walks up to my car laughing. He was spared a good smacking by the fact that I was also laughing. After all, it was funny. In a very pathetic way. Like when I recently kneed myself in the face. If I couldn't laugh at myself...well, I'd do a lot more crying, that's for dang sure. He couldn't sort out how I managed to do this; he'd pictured snow piled up on one side of the block that I had used as a ramp to get over. There was, in fact, no such anything. Just the parking block, which I had somehow monster-trucked right over. 

I had not yet, at this point, gotten out of my car to assess the damage. Turns out that I only got one wheel over (the front right one). T'other had driven smoothly forward through the space between blocks. We develop a plan: the clearance on my car is high enough (barely) that I can maneuver a bit, and the space between blocks seems large enough that I should be able to get back through it. (Fortunately, the spots around me are empty, so I have plenty of space.) Just as this plan is being implemented, a big ol' SUV tries to pull into the space in front of me. "They can't DO that!" I yell, and Kyle waves them off. But the driver, nice man that he is, gets out to assist in the helping of the damsel in distress. (Clearly, this is two-knight distress.) So he joins in instruction-giving, which is of dubious helpfulness. I'm pretty sure that I kept turning the wrong way because when he said "go left," he meant something other than what I understood "go left" to actually mean. Anyway, we eventually got things sorted out, and my car was saved! 

...about half an hour later, my heart rate came back down to normal. :)