Thursday, July 27, 2006


My new apartment didn't come with a washer and dryer. Fortunately, my new boyfriend did. But the problem is that I'm not very smart and I keep leaving my clean laundry at his house. So the other day, I headed to Target to purchase more underwear and up my stash. My mom would be so proud of me if she read this blog because I had the presence of mind to actually comparison shop. I was looking at Hanes (my usual standby), but then, with visions of grapes and apples dancing in my head, I headed down to check out the Fruit of the Loom. And low and behold, they had 7 pairs of undewear for a mere 20 cents more! So with much joy, I grabbed those 7 pairs of panties and ran to the check out line. And by "ran," I mean, "shopped around for another hour."

After Target, I went to the gym and then headed home for a shower. I went to get out my fun, new, and affordable underwear and hastily opened it. I untaped that first little bundle of white, cottony joy and what do I see? They're HUGE. Absolutely freaking humongous. I stopped and looked at the package and yes, I did indeed buy my normal size. What I didn't realize was that Fruit of the Loom sizes their underwear way smaller than normal people pants. Which...great. So now I'm half undressed at my apartment with no clean underwear and a tremendous need to take a shower. I even tried on the huge granny panties in the hopes that maybe I grossly misunderstood the size of my behind, but no, thankfully, my butt is NOT THAT BIG.

So I grabbed the only thing I could think. A teensy tiny pair of gray biking short-thingies. There was a slight problem, though. I had purchased these back when I was a freshman in college and doing aerobics with that cute little girl who wanted you to praise the Lord (!) while burning calories. (I was a really modest kid and felt like my shorts were a little short and didn't want people seeing too much of me when working my quads and hammies.) I have gained approximately 467 pounds since I was in college, so my ass is considerably, and I do mean CONSIDERABLY larger now. And these shorts were a SMALL. But I wasn't yet prepared to go commando, so squeeze into the shorts I did. I'm sure I looked really awesome while I walked around my apartment squealing and breathing and crying while trying to fit into them. I eventually got them on and promised myself I wouldn't go to the bathroom for at least another 6 hours.

But don't be down, dear readers! Because not only did I buy too-big underwear while at Target, I also purchased a super cute purse.

Ok, so it's not REALLY super cute. But guess how much it cost? A mere $8.48!!! Now look at it again, isn't that a cute purse?

I tried to get a cool picture of the price tag for this post, but it didn't work out well. I was using Alex's camera, so he gave it a shot and didn't have a lot of luck either. He and I are not artistic photographers. He did, however, get this super cute shot of me and my baby...well, the furry baby.

Also, I returned the too-huge underwear to Target later that night and the little girl in front of me in line had on Crocs....a red one and a purple one. I wish I was 4 years old again.

Monday, July 24, 2006


I've got so much to say and no words to say them. Don't you hate writer's block?

Sunday, July 16, 2006

A Very Long Post in which I talk about Cars and Boyfriends

Friday, the Sentra died.

I was on my way to work Friday morning, desperately trying to reach work as early as possible because work has been quite the vortex of suck as of late. I was very proud of myself for getting up early and getting ready and out on the road so quickly. And then...the Sentra died. In the middle of the road. I wasn't sure what to do because I couldn't push her anywhere and I couldn't just leave her. I tried calling Alex (yes! a name!), my amazingly handsome and fantastic boyfriend, to come save me, but he wasn't answering his phone. (He and I need to talk about keeping the cell phone by you at all times.) Finally, a nice man saw the tears and frustration and stopped to help me. He pushed me into a parking lot and tried to give the Sentra a much-needed jump. Unfortunatley, the jump did not work. So he drove me to Alex(He has a name now!)'s house and I woke him up with more tears and frustration. He, of course, was calm and cool and rolled out of bed with a plan. He drove me back to my car and realized that my car was still sort of in the road. (The man who helped me? He was REALLY old.) So after pushing me up an incline, he jumped the car off AGAIN and got it to work. He sent me off to work with a promise to have his cell phone with him and a pat on the head.

Surprisingly, the Sentra started right up after work and I was on the phone with Alex, working out the detalis of our car shopping extravanganza that evening. And then, the Sentra died again. But this time, it was on a busy street on a Friday evening. And Alex wasn't close by to come save me in a timely manner. So I had to sit in my car. In the middle of the road. It was awesome. I've never gotten so many dirty looks in all my life. Which is ridiculous, because it's not like I was just taking a break from driving in the middle of the road. No. NO. I was stuck, people. STUCK. At one point, a truck passed me and the guy driving yelled out, "MOVE THE CAR, BITCH!" Have I mentioned that I love the midwest?

So after more tears and frustration and much waiting, a Mennonite family in their giant conversion van stopped behind. The dad and his two sons got out and offered to push me to the nearest parking lot. Which, at the point, we weren't sure where the nearest parking lot was. They started pushing, but the incline was a little much. They finally took a break and the dad ran up to the intersection to see where the closest parking lot was. After scouting the situation out, he asked me if his wife could just drive her van up to my bumper and push me down the road. (I'm so glad he was thinking, because I was crying and cursing pretty much the whole time.) Anyway, I let them do it because, of course, this is what the back of the car looks like.

So I put my car in neutral and steered her down the road while the incredibly kind Mennonite family helped me down the road. We somehow managed to cross the intersection, make a right turn, and then cross the road to get into a Quaker State Repair Shop Thingy place. They made sure I had someone coming to help me and were on their way. So then I stood and waited for Alex to come and save me. Again. He jumped her off again and we got into the cars to drive her to a safer parking lot. But before we could even get on the road, she died. So we had to stop. And jump her off. AGAIN. This time, we were better prepared and Alex jumped into the car and took off before she had time to die on him again. I followed in his truck and we safely made it to his work's parking lot. Where I considered leaving her forever.

Unfortuantely for us, car dealerships don't stay open late on Fridays. Why? I have no idea. I guess car salesmen are interested in having lives too. Who knew? So after I whined and complained and boo hooed about my stupid sucky car and stupid people who honk their horns and call me a bitch while I'm broken down, we made a plan of attack for Saturday, with a list of cars and dealerships to look at.

So to help ease the crappiness of the day (have I mentioned that work has been horrible lately?), we went to Outback, where I dined on a tasty steak and then hit the drive in theater for a little Pirates of the Carribean love. (I *heart* Johnny Depp.)

So Saturday came and we were running late. Shockingly. The first dealership we were going to had a 2000 Honda Civic that I was super interested in because it had low mileage and had all the features I was looking for. PLUS, a moon roof. And who doesn't love a good moon roof? We got to the dealership and asked for the dealer Alex had spoken to on the phone the day before. And where was she? Out on a test drive in that Civic. I immediately went into panic mode and started blaming Alex for everything that has ever gone wrong in my entire life, ever. He, of course, patted me on the head and told me everything was going to be okay, because I am 12 years old. The lady eventually came back and told us that the guy driving the car was looking to negotiate a deal. We went to check out the car, despite the fact that my heart had already fallen out of my chest and was beating on the floor. That's how attached to this car I had gotten. Fortunatley for us, the guy was not prepared to pay as much as they wanted for the car and we got to test drive her. Woo!

Things went pretty well to begin with and I liked her a lot, but I didn't LOVE her. I've heard a lot of good things about Civics and so I was pretty set on getting one. But after the window didn't roll up properly and Alex took a look and saw a little muffler issue, I wasn't completely sold on this car. I remembered seeing a Sentra on their website and asked if I could maybe look at that? I thought it was going to be an '02 or '03 Sentra. But it turns out it was an '05. I immediately assumed I couldn't afford her, but I decided to look anyway and test drive her. And, of course, I fell in love.

She had everything I wanted: cruise control, low miles, and was made this century. She and I bonded in our short test drive and when we go back to the dealership, Alex and I conferred. I liked the Sentra better, but the Civic was more my price. We decided to see what we could get if we negotiated and go from there.

I won't bore you with the details because even I got bored and I was there buying my own car. But it involved a lot of "I don't know" and "I'm not sure" and "What do you think?" and "Can you come down lower on the price?" and "I'm not paying that much!" and, of course, the classic "Can I go to the bathroom?"

Anyway, the result was that I go.......drumroll please!

Check it out! My brand, new, shiny, beautiful 2005 Nissan Sentra! Isn't she gorgeous? She's officially "pewter," but there's a raging debate in my head on whether or not she's gray.

But it doesn't matter. It really, really doesn't. Because she has a trunk! A trunk! A trunk that closes!!!!!

What do you think? You like, yes?

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Requiem for a Sentra

I own an old car. A very, very old car. She was born in 1994, back before I could even drive, during a time when my biggest worries were surviving Freshman Day without actually participating and hoping that I got an A in Civics. At that point, the Sentra wasn’t even a twinkle in my eye...I hadn’t even begun to think about driving yet, because I am a girl and a nerd and was much more concerned with the important issue of why my mom wouldn’t buy me clothes from the Gap. So someone else purchased the Sentra and took pretty good care of her for the next 6 years.

When 2000 rolled around, I was beyond ready to own a car and the fact that she already had quite a few miles and a couple of interior problems didn’t even faze me. I am my father’s daughter and as long as I got a car that ran and had cruise control, I was fine. And run that car I did. The Sentra and I have had a healthy 100,000 mile relationship. She and I have been in it for the long haul and have traveled across much of the south and parts of the midwest together. We’ve driven through tornadoes and hurricanes and floods together. I’ve gone to her when I needed to de-stress and have made her listen to my tears and frustration and loud, loud singing. So I love her. But here’s the rub: I’ve abused her. She was a little dinged up when I got her and I haven’t helped any. I only know how to be hard on my possessions. From my iPods to my computers to my cars, I beat the crap out of them. So I couldn’t seem to be gentle with the Sentra and it shows. The windshield is cracked, the upholstery needs help, and the trunk leaked. In short, I needed someone to pimp my ride. But I didn’t care before, because she was paid for and reliable. My plan was to put as many miles as possible on her before I had to finally give up and let her go. So when the sweet Arkansas boy rear ended me, I totally cried. Not because I was hurt or scared, but because I knew that this was the end for me and the Sentra. She is now officially damaged goods. And this dear friend who has seen me through so much drama is now ready to retire and be gone from my life. I’m excited about getting a new car, but it’s still sad. I don’t want to think of the Sentra sitting in a junk yard and being stripped or crushed or whatever they do to old cars.

But this leads to a whole new problem about purchasing of a new vehicle. They’re all too nice! I test drove a ’02 Sentra yesterday and nearly bought it on sight. Why? Because it’s GORGEOUS. It’s new and pretty and stuff! It has a trunk that closes and DOESN’T leak. It has a windshield I don’t have to squint or duck to see through. It has a CD player! It has an air conditioner and heater that work on all 4 levels: 1, 2, 3, and 4! And the ceiling fabric isn’t coming down! And the front visor isn’t torn up and hanging in my eyes! And the vanity mirror on the passenger is still in tact! Holy crap! It’s like...a new car! The guy at the dealership was pretty sure that I would buy this car, so he let me take it on a long test drive, so I decided to bring this beautiful piece of machinery to my boyfriend who I’ve been hinting about for weeks but won’t actually MENTION on this blog because I can’t think of a good name for him, nor have I decided how I want to deal with having a boyfriend AND a blog since blogging is new to him and he doesn’t get the internet thing as much as I do, even though he’s a total computer nerd, but just not in the strangers reading about you and looking at pictures of you kind of way.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the car. So I got a man (MY man, no less) to look at the things that matter on the car (hint: not the cup holders that I was gushing over) and we drove around some more and he talked to me about test driving more than one car before purchasing and I was like, “Blah, blah, responsibility-cakes.” And then the check engine light came on.

Y’all, the check engine light came on while test driving and I was still like, “Maybe I’ll buy it!” I mean, I know, deep down, I won’t buy that car. Because it’s not reliable, per se. But it was a good deal and PRETTY and I want it NOW. And I don’t want to test drive other cars....forget Toyotas or Hondas or Mini’s (Hi Leah!). I just want to get a car that has a trunk that closes and makes me feel less white trashy. And Nissans have been good to me and my family, so why look around?

But, alas, I know I need to do more research and browsing. So, slightly against my will, I’m going back to and and looking more. And my handsome boyfriend is looking for stuff too. (Because he’s a stud. ..... That was for you, honey.) But it’s hard for me not to be overly eager because ANYTHING is an upgrade. Seriously. I’m limiting my search to cars made this century, which automatically makes them 6 years newer than the Sentra....which automatically makes them feel like a luxury car.

:sigh: And let’s not forget that my brain automatically thinks, “Will a carseat fit in this backseat?” Cause that’s a whole OTHER issue.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Total Loss...sort of

Ok, so I didn't spend much time at my Aunt's house. So little time in fact, that I didn't even get to play on her laptop. I did, however, drool all over her flat screen monitor, so that was fun. Of course.

The big news of the trip? I was leaving the Wal-Mart parking lot Sunday night and while I was waiting to pull out onto the road, I got rear ended. I screamed like a little girl and started crying, so the poor kid who hit me FREAKED OUT. I was fine, but I didn't act like it. So I called my mom to come help me and we did the accident report/exchange insurance info thing. Turns out it really was a kid who hit me...I'm not even sure he was a senior in high school yet. He was really nice and apologetic and his parents were the nicest people ever. They tried to fix my car without getting their insurance company involved, so I went to get a free estimate at a local body shop. And it turns out that my car was totaled. Yes. TOTALED. Turns out my awesomely awesome car is only worth a whopping $2,350. And the price to fix my car? $2,500 at least. None of us were expecting it to cost that much, so the poor kids' parents had to get their insurance company involved. I was a little nervous because I really needed to keep my car so I could get back home. But I was afraid that would mean I'd get all of $300 as a settlement or something, you know? I was afraid that driving a 12 year old car that is practically worthless to everyone else would totally screw me over. Because even though the Sentra is worthless to everyone else, it is of infinite value to me.

But it turns out all this worrying was for naught. The insurance adjustor turned out to be awesome. So awesome in fact, that I pondered proposing marriage on site. I somehow managed to refrain myself, seeing as how that would freak him out so much that he wouldn't write me a lovely check. A lovely, lovely check for a mere $200 less than the blue book value for my car! So now I've got a good-sized downpayment in the bank and am car shopping. Got any suggestions?

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Shortest Update EVER

I'm moved! There is no internet or a working computer in the new place, so I'm highjacking BGF's computer to let you know I'm not dead. I'm also leaving in a few hours to head down to Arkansas to visit the family. There, I hope to visit my aunt who is also kind enough to share her wireless internet with me. And then, then my friends, a real blog post will come.

Be good, kids!