If you’ve read my blogs for very long, you’ve figured out that every day I wake up with a song in my head. Sometimes I put them in here cause I just can’t get the darn thing out of my head. It kind of seems to release it from my head somehow. Sometimes it actually seems to relate, other times I pick songs according to what I’m writing, cause they fit. This was the song of the day today. It relates to some of the thoughts in my head, but I’m not writing about that. So nyah. You can just be left to your own devices on that one.
I’ve had yet another interesting week and as my good friend Vicki and I always say, YAFGE. hehe Of course, being me… I made the best of it. The Jeep broke down AGAIN. It oughtta be in great f*king shape by now. Let’s see… new radiator, water pump, fuel pump, 2 new belts, 3 new pulleys, new drums, front and rear brakes, oil changes (of course), power steering hose, muffler bracket, muffler repair, temperature gauge, rear window glue to hold it in place to go up and down, wire harness jump for the power locks and windows to work (when it’s in the mood), a/c repair, heater core, brand new Firestone Destination LE tires, new cd player and speakers to replace the busted old radio and speakers, new oil filter housing to fix the oil leak…. and that’s what I remember OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD… in 1 year and 1 month!!!!!! Never mind that it’s got a shitty paint job with the clear coat being slowly eaten off and a little clunking when I turn hard (probably the damn joints or something). All I need now is for someone to spray paint “honky lips ” on the side and I’ll feel just like Clark Griswald. *sigh* At least it’s purring like a kitten for the moment. Hey, anybody wanna buy a 93 Grand Cherokee with 84,000 original miles and a shitty paint job for 25 grand so I can get out of it what I put into it? LOL Good thing I know people. Well, I did in Kentucky. And with luck like mine, you GET to know people wherever you go, so now I KNOW people here. (And no, I don’t BLOW people for auto repairs.) Although I really SHOULD start dating a dealer or something – or at least a VERY rich man. hehe
Well, on Thursday of this week, the Jeep broke down and, lucky for me, I was right down the road from home (again!). I knew that familiar noise – since it happened before. So we started to head home, and- boop! – it happened about 2 blocks away from the house. Power steering went out, Jeep started to overheat, battery started to wind down. UGH. Damn. At least we made it back safe and sound. No thanks to my sister who never answered repeated calls. So much for “you can always call in case of emergency.” HA! The next day, had to call in to work (can’t work without a car cause it’s a requirement of my job. Called AAA (wouldn’t be caught DEAD without it. I’ll live on beans and rice before I do without AAA). Come to think of it, we almost do live on beans and rice. hehe Anyway, they towed my shitty little baby away – again. Called my sister for a ride to pick the little turd up when it was done – big surprise – no answer. Called a friend for help (several times). No answer there either. (Insert numerous creative expletives here)
Okay, screw it. I can handle this. I’ve been through worse. I checked out the bus schedule. Geez. Need a college degree in bus-ology and 3 or 4 hours to get from there to 2 towns over to get the Jeep. So, I gotta wonder, how exactly do all those drunks and goofs find their way around on the bus? Not that EVERYONE on the bus is like that, but I HAVE had to ride on public transportation before and, in my experience, most are a scary lot. You gotta admire the good people who have to depend on public transportation to get around. They have to have some serious kind of ingenuity to make it – experience in survival skills, understanding the scheduling, AND amazing time management abilities! So, I am hopelessly SPOILED, I admit it. Well, anyway…. Okay, fine. I called a cab. THIS was an interesting experience. I’ve never been in a cab in my life. I’ve always wanted to ride in a cab. I fantasized about riding in New York City with some crazy New Yorker zipping me around in a yellow Ford with a meter and a screen separating me from the driver. Big excitement! No such luck. Some guy pulls up in a freakin minivan. DANG.
So, I walk up to the minivan and hop in. Turns out the guy IS from New York. Big surprise. EVERYONE around here is from New York. This IS kinda interesting, so we start talking about New York vs. Kentucky vs Florida. He was a real nice guy. He says I sound just like that lady on tv… the one who cooks. Paula Whatshername. Paula Deen. I just laughed. I’ve never been compared to her before. She IS one of my heroes, so I considered it a compliment.
He asked me if Kentucky really does have excellent barbecue, like he heard. I told him that we do have good barbecue, but mostly, it’s best if you like excellent whiskey and bourbon and betting on the ponies. When it comes to drinkin and havin a good time, we really know how to do it right in Kentucky! He thought that was funny. Then he gave me a couple good tips on New York. First, don’t say “y’all,” you gotta say “yous”. I tried it and said, “How yous doooooin’?” Better yet, he said I could pass for a New Yorker as long as I kept my mouth shut and didn’t look up at the buildings when I walk around. I said, “Why, cause you’d fall over?” He cracked up and said only if you can’t chew gum and walk at the same time. (He obviously doesn’t know me too well!) “No,” he says. “Cause that’s how the muggers know who the tourists are.” Oh. I’ll file that away for future reference. I suppose if I ever make it to New York (HA! They’d eat me for breakfast!), I’ll have to remember that.
Anyway, he gave me his card with the number to his cab in case I ever need it or if I need some unwanted drunken guests to get the hell out, give him a call and he’d give me a great rate. Thanks, Mike, but I hope to hell I don’t need a cab again, cause it’s too damn expensive .
So, it’s been quite a week. YAFGE.
On to another new week and more new experiences. Still haven’t heard back from my sister. Guess when she finally calls, I’ll tell her my son and I am still sitting on the curb and REALLY hungry after waiting for her to return our emergency phone call. *sigh*
Cheers,
Sandy
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