Hello, My Name is Charlie Sheen.

Our GPS is named Vicky. Well, technically, she's named Victoria, because she's a haughty bossy Brit. As if there's any other kind (except for Adele). When she makes us mad by recalculating, we call her Vicky. Like icky Vicky.

But for the most part, Victoria gets us to our destination just fine and dandy, without too many problems.

Btdubs, when I say us, I mean me and my parents. We all use Vicky, often on long trips that actually require her. I promise I'm not pulling a Perez Hilton and referring to myself in the plural.

Anyway, my grandparents only recently got a GPS. Before, they solely used maps. For reference, these are what driving maps look like:

These just don't make sense to me. They're so small, and it's a pain to try to find where you are when you're driving 85mph on a random ass highway in Louisiana. 

Apparently, though, when I was seven years old, I got me and my grandparents un-lost on our way to my Uncle Leroy's and Aunt Carrie Lee's. (Side story: half of my relatives call her Carrie and half call her Caralee because, well, Southerners clip words. So pretty much my entire life, I thought these were two separate women.) I'm not even sure I knew how to use a map, then. But my grandparents have told this story over and over.

I was just tired of them arguing (a show of affection between them) about whether we were supposed to turn right or left, and we were supposed to take the bridge 500 ft away NOT this bridge. My seven yr. old brain wanted peace and quiet to play my Gameboy Color. I just wanted to beat the 17th level of Tarzan, OK!?!

So I took matters into my own hands and ripped the map away from Nan. Then I somehow found where we were supposed to be and got lucky telling Papa left and right. Funny story, when I was seven, I still got my lefts and rights confused. Fortunately, I didn't realize the map was upside down so this was not a problem.

I looked like a genius, and I really had no idea what I was doing. I win.

You can call me Charlie Sheen now.