Monday, December 10, 2007

Liza Jane? More like Calamity Jane

It's official y'all: this finals period has sucked even more than those previous. And not even really because of the exams, because I haven't even taken any yet. Remember how I said my car was having problems? Well, it was having $475 problems, apparently. Can you say ouch? And not only that, but the first time that I drove out to pick it up, it turns out it had died right before closing the night before, so my journey into Uptown was for naught.

So the day after I take my car in to have it looked at, I'm on the phone, probably whining about my car, and I walk into the living room, turning on the light as I come in. Well, said light doesn't turn on, so I pull the little clicky-cord again, and as I'm standing there looking at the wall switch to see if it's on, the entire ceiling fan apparatus comes falling out of my 14-foot ceiling directly onto yours truly. I didn't have my camera at the time, or I'd have taken a picture of the wooden and glass pile o' destruction, because it was impressive. So impressive in fact that I'm surprised I wasn't knocked out. Instead, I just sorta sat down, stunned, and told my friend I'd have to call her back. Who does that happen to? Whose ceiling fan just randomly falls out of the ceiling while they're standing under it? It's just...wrong.

And then yesterday, calamity number 3 befalls me and I come down with a 24-hour stomach flu. Because I love to spend my days curled up on the bathroom floor instead of studying for the finals that are set to begin tomorrow.

Moral of the story: I've had a crappy week. Maybe it's the universe's way of getting it all out of its system so that my finals are comparatively better? Let's hope so. In fact, I think I'll knock on wood right now.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

This is how I roll

Apparently I have a fuel injection problem. I found this out this morning when my car wouldn't start after leaving the library, prepared to go to the Rue and be productive. This prompted a middle of the street freak out, which I refuse to apologize for, because it is finals time and I am trying my hardest to be positive, but sometimes it's hard. So anyway, my friend Erica picks me up and drives me back to my house, across town, where we must jump Max's car because its battery is dead. Back at my vehicle, it starts for him and I drive it home, even though it dies once on the way there. And this is how I now drive, because a classy broad like me deserves a classy car:

1. Get into car.
2. Turn car on.
3. Immediately start revving engine like I'm about to peel out of parking space.
4. After about five or six revs, throw car into drive as quickly as possible and hit gas.
5. When approaching a red light, put car into neutral, and with one foot firmly on the brake, begin hitting the gas again.
6. Ignore stares of fellow drivers, who are looking at you and wondering why you're acting like you want to race.

It's official. I drive a hoopdee. Guess it's back to the shop first thing Monday morning.

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