So, I’ve been driving for three-plus years now and for the most part I love it, especially driving by myself. The sense of freedom; play whatever music I want, as loud as you want. But I’m a New Yorker, and these Massachusetts drivers are really burning my toast lately.

Does the RMV (that’s right, there is no DMV in this state, just the asinine RMV which half of us college students don’t even know is the Registry of Motor Vehicles) just hand out licenses? Massachusetts drivers are annoying, slow and have no sense of direction or common courtesy.

While driving on I-93 or I-95 otherwise known as Route 128, be sure to plan ahead. About three hours ahead. Traffic gets so bad on these roads that a 20 minute drive from my house in Norwood (I live here now but I want to reiterate that I’m a New Yorker) to campus can take up to an hour and 30 minutes. I’m not exaggerating. This happened last Thursday and Friday.

Actually, I have this theory that traffic could be completely eliminated if people learned how to switch lanes, merge and just drive. It’s that simple: just drive. When there’s an accident, march on to your destination. Why hold up hundreds, probably thousands of people with your idiotic rubbernecking to satisfy your insatiable scandalous curiosity?

I love a good story as much as the next person (hello, I’m a journalist), but to hold up major highways just to witness what’s going on with an accident or construction is absolutely ridiculous.

Also, why is there constantly construction on all major Massachusetts roads and highways? I wish there were smart people in charge thinking of better hours to perform said construction. Not at 9 a.m. or 5 p.m., the climaxes of rush hours.

These things can honestly be avoided. But even in Manhattan, during rush hour, during a Yankees game, you wouldn’t find the kind of rude and despicable behavior Mass residents are capable of.

I was driving down Columbus Avenue last Thursday with two friends when two high school-aged girls crossed the street, when I had a green light. And they kept crossing after I stopped for them. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. So I gave my horn a little toot, and those little