(2) Automatic cars are really fun to ride in. Note, however, that I said "ride in", not "drive". You don't drive an automatic car - you just point it in the direction you want to go and press the gas pedal. That's riding. Not driving.
(3) Traffic on San Francisco freeways, at midnight, goes at 75mph plus. (If you're in the fast lane.)
(4) Modern automatic cars - even lousy rental automatic cars - can hit 80mph without any real trouble. Unfortunately I wasn't able to find out what their real limits are, because (a) it was night and I didn't know the road, (b) while it was open enough to consider it, it wasn't really open enough to do it, and (c) getting arrested for speeding in a rental car two days before a job interview is a really really bad idea. (My car at home can manage 70mph if you floor it and have a long straight stretch, though I think I might have also had a tailwind. My mom's car can do 75mph, but I never really had a chance to test that one out either.)
I like it here, y'know? The east coast is just . . . spooky. Like, you go to a mall, right? And all the stores have their names above the door, right? But if you do this on the West Coast, they're all bright colored signs with names like "The Zen Platypus" and "Beech Britches" with stars and angels and happy little faeries, and you have to practically go inside the store to figure out what exactly they're selling. Here on the east coast, it seems every mall buys from the same supplier, who has a single caps-only font in the same color of red, and the stores are labeled "PIZZA" and "LIQUOR STORE" and "FURNITURE". I don't get it, y'know? This rant will continue later.
For now, I'm going to sleep.