That giant sucking sound you hear is car ownership

Sixteen hundred dollars poorer, she emerged.  And I still need an alignment and the car DESPERATELY needs to be detailed.  There’s a lip gloss tube EMBEDDED in the driver’s side carpet like a dinosaur bone emerging from a dig.  I also just realized that the dangly thing hanging from the rear view mirror is a beaded toy flogger, and since I don’t swing that way (pitching OR catching), I should prob’ly take it down. But it’s PURPLE.

Anyways… drove ScaryClown home with me last night and we supped on Swiss Chalet that Jeff brought home and drank beers and watched TV.  At one point Jeff said something so funny that ScaryClown and I were rendered absolutely helpless.  Unfortunately, despite its merits as humour, it is not repeatable, even by me, but please accept my assurances that it was convulsing.

Then the phone rang.  I could hear it but Jeff couldn’t (I answer the phone for a living so heard it over the tv noise which was hockeygamish at the time).  I picked up the phone, but because it was behind me & I wasn’t really paying too close attention I had the receiver upside-down.  Jeff thought I’d gone insane because – well, Jeff thinks I’ve gone insane most of the time, but he’s low-key about commenting – I was picking up the phone and saying hello hello with the receiver upside down – for no apparent reason. He said, brow furrowed, with that crystal clarity people use when talking to halfwits, “The phone is upside down,” at which point Keith and I were actually able to start communicating.  ScaryClown at this point was laughing so hard he lost control of his ketchup.  Keith said, “Ah.  Well, I was going to ask if ScaryClown was still there, but I can hear him laughing, so I’ll be there in 15.”

He and Paul came over (announcing pie and yet another six of Lion Winter, Paul found another source, and commenting that the car looks nice) and we had a very pleasant evening.  The highlight was the scary awesome Mt. St. Helens footage.  You know that this blog started with me commenting about Mt. St. Helens every other day, so I have a special fondness for it, and will stay fond of it if it stays dormant.

This tickled my funnybone

I really have to work harder on the second Unitardian principle of respect for everyone.  But when I’m not feeling respectful, this little squib applies. 

Kids have their own version of the principles:

  • Each and every person is important.
  • All people should be treated fairly and kindly.
  • We should accept one another and keep on learning together.
  • Each person should be free to search for what is true and right in life.
  • All people have the right to speak out and vote about things that concern them.
  • We should work for a peaceful, free, and fair world.
  • We need to take care of our planet, Earth, the home we share with all living things.

    • Fur and tires, man, fur and tires

    Anything with fur and tires gonna cost you.  For reasons unknown, except possibly ubercoolness, my parents are subsidizing my middle aged crazy car purchase to the tune of just about covering the repairs.  Yup, it’s an expensive proposition, maintaining a car, but honestly, I had been looking for a new hobby, and complaining about my car has just zoomed to the top of the list.

    I am happy right now.  The sun is out, I slept well, I’m going to Jericho tonight to drink beer and participate in live music.  Bleat with happiness, spring!

    This morning

    Kat put the plates on the car, moved her brother’s car (with the aid of 4 other people, gaack), and gave me the keys.  Squee! Next up, a leetle more getting ready for guests after I make a carafe of coffee, and then I’ll walk down to Kat’s mother’s, take a deep breath, and then drive a car – which cannot actually turn left – down to the krankenhaus. A call to my boss to advise him of my lateness is queued up on that list as well.

    This morning my eyes fell on the happy news that a woman I know is expecting her first child, and I give her joy of the news.  Her report is that she’s peeing a lot and dead tired, and gosh, how familiar THAT sounds.

    Sundry and various

    Tomorrow I take the car (which at the moment can only turn right) in a cunningly planned foray through New Westminster; then I’ll drop it off at the krankenhaus and with any luck, I’ll have a plated, functioning, air-cared vehicle – my first in my whole life. My dad gave me a car once, but due to a miscommunication Paul registered it in his own name, which I didn’t actually think was legal and squawked about like a sad old hen at the time.  So, technically, this will be the first car ever that’s registered in my own name.  I’m 51, and I’m an idiot for buying a car, but when the thing you hate most about your job is not the job but the commute by bus, a car seems like a necessity.  Also, ROAD TRIPS.  Also WRECK BEACH.  Also, going to the Island to visit relllies, and not just my parents.  Yes, I’m going to put major miles on that puppy this summer.

    My mother is still slowly working her way through the ancestral diaries.  Henry Wake was a fascinating critter, and I’ll be really happy when all of his diaries are where I can easily peruse them.

    Keith is over, and as soon as he’s finished with a boss fight in Arkham Asylum, we’re going to watch Deadwood (me for the nth time) and then I’m going to cook him a pork chomp dinner.  Jeff’s on the Island.

    I’ve put the new song in Songwriter.  So I actually did something creative this weekend.  John would be pleased.

    Sad news, glad news, old news.

    It is my sad duty to report that Lexi’s father in law passed away yesterday.  He was an interesting and accomplished person, and I feel for Rob’s loss.  As Lexi said, maybe it was expected, but it was still very sad.  He died with his children around him; that would be of some comfort to the mourners, I know, from personal experience.

    The glad news is that Dave Dowker is launching his book at This Ain’t The Rosedale Library on May 7th, which is definitely cause for celebration.  What an intelligent bunch of friends I have.

    The old news is jokes from North Korea.  Strangely, most of these are recycled from Russia in the 30’s.

    I’m staying home from church today.

    Saturday morning thotz

    I don’t agree with everything this person says about swearing, but I remember reading somewhere that people who are freaked out about swearing are less egalitarian than people who aren’t.  Not particularly safe for work.

    Believe me when I tell you this is cool. SFW.

    Paul sent around an email yesterday announcing that a court date has been set for the woman who knocked John off his motorcycle.  It had been looking increasingly like nothing was going to happen, but the slow grinding wheels of justice are finally in motion.  May 27th nothing will likely happen except her entering a plea.  Paul will keep us all apprised.

    I had a very productive day yesterday; I replaced the burner I covered in melted plastic; re-upped on the lease and gave the landlord six months worth of checks; did a load of laundry, worked on half a dozen songs with Paul and wheedled him into going to the first Tuesday at Jericho for the year in exchange for me working up Erica’s Song well enough to perform it, and man his guitar support is tasty as always), got plates and insurance for the car, cooked chicken schnitzel with quinoa salad for supper (Paul made the salad and insisted on sending me home with some, and it had so much garlic in it it practically triggered an altered state of consciousness); messed with the intonation on my mandolin now that it’s been repaired (sounds okay now); almost wrote a new tune and replaced my bank card which was compromised again if you can believe it (somebody tried to take $500 out of my account in Surrey three days ago and so the baloney alarm was triggered).

    I of course find it screechingly funny that my bank knows I’d never take $500 out in Surrey.  Welcome to the Panopticon.

    Jeff is likely off to Victoria and will likely be bringing back Andrew, so I have some ‘comfort of guests’ things to do today, not that I mind.  House guests are fun.  For three days, anyway.