For all who are magpies like me:

http://www.silverjewelryclub.com/default.asp?affid=

And it does work, my sister got two rings in the mail over this weekend.

10 hour shifts again.
My favorite.
I wouldn’t be so annoyed but they didn’t tell us until last night that
we would be starting 10 hour shifts tonight. While it does suck for
me, better than half of my friends at work have children and are single
or their SO works third as well. Now they all have to scramble for
childcare.

And the bosses knew last week — as they told 1st shift on Friday
morning, right after we left.I simply do not understand why they did
not tell us. Perhaps my head isn’t far enough up my ass to be a
business major.

Mood: Pissy. Peevish. Cantankerous. Irritated.

On my way back to my apartment from feeding the BF’s kitty (who is
terribly lonely and become my new bestest friend) I followed a very
strange vehicle.

A dump truck with handicapped (handicap?)  license plates.

It just seems like a bizarre combination.

From Sonja

” Remember that the “magic” isn’t the most important part of your relationship. (Trust me, the magic will be gone the first time he farts in bed and then waves the comforter to disburse the stench.) When you live with someone, it’s not going to be romantic all the time. But that’s ok, because it’s the love that’s important, not the magic. Still, it never hurts to create some magic now and then. Take a bath together or something. (Just don’t fart in the tub, k?) “

it made me snort my coke and laugh nearly as hard as I did over the BIL’s butt shaving episode…

I’m such a freakin’ magpie.
Oh, and a clothes-whore too.

Much shopping – though of mostly decent pricing – has ensued in the Cleveland area. As has consumption of copious amounts of food – especially CHIPOTLE. Since leaving Columbus, I miss Chipotle almost as much as I miss Jimmy John’s which I miss almost as much as Fudrucker’s and their delicious french fries and spicy, spicy cheese sauce.

It’s funny what you miss about places when you leave them. I miss those three restaurants and I miss the North Market and lazy Sunday afternoons of visiting all those stores. I miss the bike paths and I miss the zoo and the metro-parks…but I really don’t miss OSU. Or being a grad student. Or working 80 hours a week. I do miss independent thought – and astoundingly enough, my students. I miss the people I used to work with … er, some of them.

First, on wednesday morning, a guy backs into my bumper as I leave
work, continuing to fulfill my belief that I should definitely NOT be
driving anything ever again – as in, I need to get a job close enough
to walk or bike to because me and cars…we ain’t friends…no, no
we’re certainly not.

Second, this evening, I wore jeans planning to take them with me when I
go to the Cleveland area. They are old jeans and the thighs wear thin
from all the walking I do at work – 8 or so miles a night – and well,
the thighs, they do rub together a bit.

However, while climbing up a set of shelves, I hear “RIP!”

The left thigh is ripped from the seam back for about 2 inches at an
upward angle. And it’s not a delicate little hole. It’s frayed and
rapidly widening. So, I slap some tape over it and live with the
chafing as it’s better than my delicate thigh/ass skin being available
for the schlubs that I work with to look at.

I now am awaiting the other shoe. It certainly FEELS like it’s hanging over my head.

while waiting for my taco bell to arrive
I found this
And I want it
but I want it to be a Darwin Fish….
I wonder if they’ll do that

We do have cute genes, no?
My other siblings both plan to reproduce…I’m hoping for some cute and obnoxiously active little boys.

In car news…
the bastard refused to start this morning in the work parking lot.
I cranked and cranked. And then I gave it some gas and cranked again.
Nothing.
I counted to fifty. And cranked. And cranked.
Then I tried with the gas again.
For 10 minutes I tried before giving up, banging my head against the
steering wheel and calling my mother before she left for work.
She’ll come to pick me up, she says.

Halfway there, I called her back.
It’s been another 15 minutes of cranking and waiting and gasing and cranking and cursing. And now it starts.

She goes to work and I take the car to my parent’s house and pick up my
truck. It might be a big POS with a giant deer print in the side,
enough rust to be considered that color and better than 200, 000
miles…but at least it runs. And keeps running.

Hrmmmm…
anything else of exciting import.
My roommate has moved in and things appear to be going well. Neither of
us has killed the other or indulged in mud-wrestling matches to settle
who takes out the garbage (me) or who will vacuum (her).

Our guest cat, Oscar, has finally almost adjusted…though he is due to
leave today. He likes to watch my cats in the litterbox. He’s kind of a
freak like that

In terms of boyfriend…
well, I’ve given up on the stewing.
Or perhaps it’s given up on me. I can’t really seem to summon anything
to stew about – make of that what you will – but it makes for long
nights at work as I no longer have anything to really think about
unless I plan ahead except for sex. And that has other side effects.

I think I’ve realized and accepted that I’m not even fighting
rear-guard action anymore in terms of relationship…my army has
entirely surrendered, lock, stock and barrel and is quite happily
consorting with the enemy (I think they like the boozing). Not that I
really object to it at all…I’m more bemused I think. I’ve reached a
point where I’ve not ever been and I’m not entirely sure what is
supposed to happen next. Need like a handbook or something…

Improvement….

Lots of sleep and dark chocolate plain M&Ms….

Still driving the Park Ave though…when the service engine soon light
came on at 445 this morning I was more than slightly concerned…but
all was well.

Well.
My morning has been….rough. How about yours?

Mine started off fairly nice. I got off work 2 hours early as we had no
shoes to play with. So, I am on my way home, in the Park Ave that I am
test driving for my father. I typically drive a beater S10 with
200,000+ miles on it.

But it needed an oil change.
And the brake lights just went out.

So I switched, seeing as my father just got this one fixed up (it was a
“gift” from someone who broke it and couldn’t fix it and since my
father is a mechanic-man, he can and did – or so I thought) and wanted
it test drove more than my mother could do (she drives about 25 mph and
4 or so miles a day).

I drove it from home to my apartment on Friday in the pouring rain…no
real problems, a little dim in the light area and a little touchy in
the steering compared to my truck…I also drove it to the gym and back
on Saturday (maxing it out over 75mph…just because I could).

When I started it last night to drive it to work at about 9pm…it made
a hideous, hideous squeal…and then it stopped making that noise.
Which was good – it made my ears want to cry.

The battery light then came on.

And I think it went off, but I wasn’t really paying too much attention.

However.
I really should have.
A lot.
Like, A Whole Lot.

*sigh*
Hindsight, yo.

I’m halfway between my parent’s house and my dad’s job (both of which I
drive past on my way from work to apartment everyday) when suddenly, I
hear the squeal again and this time I notice the battery light come on.
Or perhaps flash…I’m not entirely certain.

Then the lights dim…

I am coming upon the stoplight in Roanoke (small town…very small town) where I have to turn right….

As I slow down….
Car dies.
On the corner. Of a major state highway and a very busy road that leads to the very large GM plant in the area.

I am unable to push the car myself, but do manage to kind of coast it
around the corner and as close to the side of the road as possible.

I grumble.
I try to restart the car.
I swear.
And it does nothing.

I pick up my cell phone  –  thank goodness for that…I have
one and won’t have to try to find a pay phone at 5am, when it’s still
dark.

Except, after calling my mom (to get my dad’s work number) twice (and
getting the machine both times), my battery…which was at 3
bars…goes dead.
Completely.

Fuck.
I said that.
Twice.

Luckily, the gas station just across the way has just opened.
So, I skedaddle across four lanes of traffic and scoot inside…
realizing as I get there that I have NO cash.
I don’t take it to work (or I spend in the vending machines) and since I don’t have my truck, I don’t have my emergency stash.
The gas station does have an ATM machine…and I do have my ATM card with me…and it’s only a $2 fee….
but yuck.

I get change from the gentleman behind the counter and ask him where
the pay phone is…it’s outside, near the highway and away from all
streetlights. Not my favorite place to talk a pay phone…but it is a
small town in the midwest, so it should be safe.

Heh.
But the pay phone is broken….
it eats one of my quarters and won’t take any of the rest of them.

I go back into the gas station and explain to the attendant my problem.
By this time, I am beginning to get a little bit upset. I have been up
since 8am the day before, and all I want is to be at home, in my bed,
clean and snuggling with my cats.

He informs me, sadly, that the phone in the gas station does not have
the capability to make long distance calls — which it is to both my
mom’s house and my dad’s work.

At this point in time I am thinking…
“Well…I can wait until 6am when my gym opens…it’s about a 1/4 of a
mile walk there…or I can walk to my roommate’s parent’s house…which
is in the same small town about 1 mile away and hope that they are home
or that their door is unlocked…or I can walk to my dad’s work which
is about 4 miles away….”

These are very sad thoughts.

Then the nice gas station attendant informs me that there is another
pay phone at the grocery store right behind the gas station.

This one works.
But my mother still doesn’t answer…so I begin to talk to the machine,
hoping that she might answer and dreading that I will have to call my
sister who, to rescue me, would have to bring two babies…or I could
try to call and wake my roommate up…or the boyfriend….
All these thoughts run through my head….
but she finally does answer.

She says she’ll call dad at work and one of them will come pick me up and determine what to do with the stupid POS car.

I walk back to my car (still in the road with the hazards
on)….despair of moving it…and watch the multitudes of people drive
by and never even slow down or offer to help.

I do make a quick stop at the coffee hut in the parking lot about 30 feet away and get a chocolate chai, to pass the time.

A nice gentleman does stop after about 10 minutes of my standing there,
all forlorn-like and help me move it off to the side of the road, so
I’m not blocking traffic anymore.

Eventually, after what seemed an eternity…my mother shows up — the phone line to my dad’s work was busy.

So we drive there and as soon as he sees us, he is pissed. He KNOWS something is wrong. And he makes that face.
And given the amount of facial hair my father has, seeing a facial
expression is difficult…so when you see one, you know it’s a very,
very important one.

Turns out the Park Ave threw the alternator belt…drained the battery…
which is a bitch.  And dad broke his tow strap just the other day, pulling bushes with it.

So he trots back to work while my mother and I guard the car (now in
the parking lot of the coffee hut) so that no one tows the bastard. He
brings a nifty-ass battery charger that doesn’t require an outside
help…just a yellow box that connects to your battery and lets you
start a dead car. I have NO clue what it is, or how it works…but it
was cool.

He drove the Park Ave back to his work…my mother took his truck
(which I refused to drive, given my current streak with cars and the
fact that it is a 2005 brand-new shiny truck….) and I took my
mother’s car.

I will return it to her at the gym tonight.
And I’ll take my truck.
Sans oil change and repaired brake lights.

And now, instead of the nice nap that I wanted to take before I had to
babysit…I need to shower and make sure the apartment is all
baby-proofed….

*sigh*
I just tell myself, the day can only go up.

Ha.

On the internet at my own apartment.

Someday, it will be n my OWN computer…but not yet.