It's been a while since I've posted on here. It's funny, I think fairly often during the course of a week, "Wow, this would make a good blog" or "I should blog about that". Inevitably, life takes its toll and time slips away and my procrastination chalks another mark in the win column.
It seems the only time I actually do stop to write here, is when something makes me mad or I'm feeling a bit bluesy. This week has been like that. Actually, I've had a couple of rough weeks.
At the beginning of last week, I had a problem with my brakes on the truck, so I parked it until I could get it in the shop and decided to drive the old green beast that inexplicably keeps on ticking, barely. I drive to work and I even drive it to Burger King for lunch, but when it's time to finally go home about ten hours after I got there, I get in and the tire is flat. Not low, not slack, the tire is completely devoid of air. I call a friend to come get me and take me home and to follow me to the shop the next morning to drop off the truck and take me to work. (Thanks, buddy.) Two rear calipers, two rotors, two pads and $560 later, I'm self-sufficient again. Sort of.
That was Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday pass without incident. I failed to mention that, not only was the tire on the beast flat, but the "donut" spare in the trunk was also. So, my first priority was to get the truck fixed and then worry about the beast.
On Friday, I'm called into the office where I am scolded for leaving my car and told that it took security all week to figure out whose car it was. Interesting, since I told the guard the night I left it what was happening. I explained that I had used up all my friends and favors for the week and had to wait until I could make new friends or save up a favor to get someone to help me get my car home. I had plans to do this on Saturday, my first day off since this all happened.
There is a law that governs my life and my cars... it is known as Murphy's law. If anything can go wrong - it will. On Saturday, My same poor friend who has come on a minutes notice one night to get me, then got up bright and early the next morning to take me to work and again picked me up that evening, goes with me to get the beast. We go prepared with not one but two "Fix-A-Flat" type sealer/inflaters in a can. Now, I have used these great inventions to excess since they were first introduced. I could not get this tire to inflate. Not even a little. So, in desperation, I used the last half of the second can to inflate the stupid little "Barbie" spare in the trunk and I change the tire. Ha! Can't beat me, I think to myself.
WRONG!
As I drive off, the most horrific grinding, scraping, screeching noise ever, emanates from my newly tightened, yet minuscule, tire. I think perhaps that the spare is not the original and is compressing the brake. Fabulous!
Determined to get the beast off the property of my caring and sympathetic employer, I "limp" a mile or so down the road to a Wal*Mart. Not because I can afford to have them fix it, but because their large parking lot will afford me an extra week (hopefully) to work on that part of the problem.
OK. I said I usually only write when I am mad or down. I decided to end this post on a positive (albeit completely random and unrelated) note...
Over the weekend, I went to see the movie From Paris with Love and I must say, it was more than I expected. I saw Edge of Darkness with Mel Gibson and it was a very good movie, I thought. This one smokes it and leaves you wanting more. This is NOT a family film. One entire scene has Travolta discussing the finer grammatical nuances of the phrase Mother F_cker. It has drugs, sex, violence, blood, language... everything you look for in a good action movie done to the extreme plus a pretty good story. I'll admit, it starts out a bit slow. The first 15 minutes (before Travolta is ever seen), I was beginning to question my decision to be there. However, from the moment, Travolta comes on screen, until the credits roll, it is a joyride in a Toyota. Breakneck pace and non-stop.
Get a babysitter and go see this movie.
Gotta sign off. My bedbugs are calling me.
