So I rented a car last night. Well, I made the reservation online so that I could procure a car next weekend for my trek back to Arkansas. I'm now the proud future driver of a compact car, like a Dodge Neon. (Hopefully this compact car is not as red as it was in the picture and hopefully much cooler than a Dodgle Neon. Because when I think of the Neon, I think of my ex-boyfriend from college who was REALLY, REALLY proud of his Dodge Neon. Insanely proud. Plus, he was from Kentucky. And he regularly dyed his hair unnatural colors. It was just bad.) (And while I'm on this tangent that has nothing to do with what I was planning on posting about, I might as well show you this shirt. I am SO wearing it while I'm down there. I was an English major in that state, ok? I'm allowed to mock it.)
Back on track....This whole renting of the car is a quick fix for the lack of drivable tires on the trusty-no-more Sentra. A quick fix, but not a good fix. Because the Sentra is still not drivable. AND I REALLY WANNA DRIVE. For example, I am currently stuck at my apartment blogging instead of driving fast (fast, being a relative term when you think about how fast OTHER cars can go) and singing very, very loudly to Fiona Apple. (Thanks second hand CD store and sharp-eyed Anne!) It's just not the same when you're listening to Fiona stationary. Trust me.
Here's where the problem comes: I am not the big cash money baller that many of you think that I am. (And by "many of you" I mean "none of you.") Sure I've got the funds to get new wheels and an alignment and an oil change, but I REALLY don't want to. It'll drain the bank account an inappropriate amount. And I want to save my money for more important things, like traveling expenses and debt payment and cute capris. So I'm being stubborn and forcing BGF to drive me everywhere. (Right now "everywhere" has consisted of work, which isn't a big deal since we are conviently employed at the same place, but still. If I HAD a life, I'd like to think I could jump in my car and go. Not sit and stew, stew, stew. Kind of like a prune.)
(I hate prunes. They taste gross and cause greivous consequences to your body. And that's all I am. A human prune with no working car and an unused iPod. Oh, the torture!)
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6 comments:
ooooh.....no matter how young a prune may be he's always getting wrinkles. aaaaaa........baby prune's just like his dad but he's not wrinkled half so bad. now we have wrinkles on our face, but pruny has them EVERYPLACE! nooooo....matter how young a prune may be he's always getting stewed!
(we bow)
little seed inside the prune, is it night or is it noon? whatcha doin,' little seed inside the prune?
(we bow)
i think i did that properly, but if not feel free to make corrections :-D
sorry...i made a spelling error the first time..teeheehee
Way to go Anne! That was quite impressive. You did however leave out one line. When one is talking to one's clasped hand and pretending it is a prune, one must ask "What's in there?" before asking "Whatcha doing?" Other than that, MAGNIFICO!
Must....fix....car....so.....life.....can....resume.....
A baby prune's just like his dad, 'cept he's not wrinkled quite so bad....Now, we have wrinkles on our face, but pruny has them everyplace!! No matter how young a prune may be he's always getting steewwed!
Oh, whoops. I'm a dork. I see that anne has already completed the song. Sigh, good memories anyhow.
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