I promised you video, and it only took a month for me to follow through.
But so worth it.
Here, you will see me talk to you in a pompous way with my weirdly moving lips (seriously, everyone else learned to talk and look normal at the same time... but not me). You will hear poor Laura's lament about our misadventure. And you will learn the dark secrets of Yellowstone.
How can you not watch?
We survived, but JUST BARELY.
Showing posts with label car. Show all posts
Showing posts with label car. Show all posts
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Christina Cross Country
WELL.
This was supposed to be updated long before now, but my new camera -- the one with a YouTube sticker on the front -- apparently creates HUGE files when taking video. Not all that YouTube friendly, despite the misleading sticker. I tried uploading yesterday for an HOUR, and only got 45% of the way through a short clip.
So.
I feel angry (cue the T-Rex stomp), frustrated (do I even *have* two hours to upload a minute-long clip?), and completely unequal to the task of explaining how lovely it was to drive across the country with no real plan.
You know, other than to make it home alive.
On the way, I got sunburned by Lake Michigan...
Met the King of the Corn Palace...
Got stuck in a blizzard in Yellowstone...
And spent time with Laura Lee, who not only helped drive (like when I pulled over and said, "It's too windy! I've driven four miles! It's your turn again!") but also let me drag her everywhere in the name of sightseeing.
If I can ever get the video loaded, you will laugh and weep and experience every human emotion and feel a deeper connection to humanity. In the meantime, you can suffer and thank my stupid camera for it.
This was supposed to be updated long before now, but my new camera -- the one with a YouTube sticker on the front -- apparently creates HUGE files when taking video. Not all that YouTube friendly, despite the misleading sticker. I tried uploading yesterday for an HOUR, and only got 45% of the way through a short clip.
So.
I feel angry (cue the T-Rex stomp), frustrated (do I even *have* two hours to upload a minute-long clip?), and completely unequal to the task of explaining how lovely it was to drive across the country with no real plan.
You know, other than to make it home alive.
On the way, I got sunburned by Lake Michigan...
Met the King of the Corn Palace...
Got stuck in a blizzard in Yellowstone...
And spent time with Laura Lee, who not only helped drive (like when I pulled over and said, "It's too windy! I've driven four miles! It's your turn again!") but also let me drag her everywhere in the name of sightseeing.
If I can ever get the video loaded, you will laugh and weep and experience every human emotion and feel a deeper connection to humanity. In the meantime, you can suffer and thank my stupid camera for it.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The Accident
A week ago Thursday, I was in a car accident.
Driving home from Seattle, I was taking the exit off I-5 onto Highway 540. If you're familiar with the area, you know that to make that exciting move I had to enter a one-lane tunnel that was engineered to be a downward-sloping blind curve.
It was in the tunnel I saw it -- a crumpled car, crushed against the cement wall. I braked and swerved and managed to avoid the vehicle.
"Thank God," I breathed... just as I was hit from behind by another driver.
The back of the driver's seat thumped my head forward as the sound of shattering lights and crunching metal echoed in the tunnel. I sat stunned for a moment. The driver pulled alongside me.
"Are you okay? Can you move?" he yelled.
I nodded. "I think so!" Realizing that staying still was only going to result in a dangerous pile-up, I motioned that I was going to try driving out of the tunnel. As I did, it hit me:
The tunnel leads to a bridge. The bridge has nowhere to pull over. This guy could easily drive off into the night, and I had no name, insurance policy number, not even his car's tags. There was nothing I could do to keep him from speeding off into the night.
Instead, he drove slowly behind me across the span of the bridge and to the first exit. We exchanged information, and he asked if I knew how to get home. I confessed I didn't know where the next entrance to the highway was, so he looked up directions for me before I drove off.
And then I got pulled over for a broken (let's face it -- smashed to bits) tail light.
I explained to the police officer that it had only been broken for about 15 minutes, and I was on my way home. He was very kind, but still had to run my license. While he was in his car, a truck pulled over in front of me and out stepped my unlikely friend. He walked back to the officer and explained he'd rear ended me.
On his way back to the car, he said he didn't want me to get a ticket on top of getting my car bashed. I thanked him and said I hoped the rest of his night went better, and in an attempt at cheerfulness he said, "It can't really get much worse."
But it could've been. I thought back over all the nights that had been worse than a car accident with no serious injuries. I thought of the inches and fractions of seconds that could've made that night one where someone didn't make it home.
I also thought of all the opportunities that young man had to escape. He had the opportunity to run from his responsibility. He could've chosen to do the wrong thing and thank his stars I didn't have any recourse. Instead, he chose to do the right and good thing, even when it cost him something.
It might not seem like a big deal, but in the past year I've had a lot of people choose easy instead of the hard thing that was right. How the consequences of their choices affected people like me wasn't as important as saving their own skin or priorities or story.
To me, it seemed a given that would happen again.
I am so thankful. Not for the accident itself, of course, but for the reminder that there are good people who see beyond themselves. I thought maybe they'd all disappeared.
I'm glad some are still around.
Driving home from Seattle, I was taking the exit off I-5 onto Highway 540. If you're familiar with the area, you know that to make that exciting move I had to enter a one-lane tunnel that was engineered to be a downward-sloping blind curve.
It was in the tunnel I saw it -- a crumpled car, crushed against the cement wall. I braked and swerved and managed to avoid the vehicle.
"Thank God," I breathed... just as I was hit from behind by another driver.
The back of the driver's seat thumped my head forward as the sound of shattering lights and crunching metal echoed in the tunnel. I sat stunned for a moment. The driver pulled alongside me.
"Are you okay? Can you move?" he yelled.
I nodded. "I think so!" Realizing that staying still was only going to result in a dangerous pile-up, I motioned that I was going to try driving out of the tunnel. As I did, it hit me:
The tunnel leads to a bridge. The bridge has nowhere to pull over. This guy could easily drive off into the night, and I had no name, insurance policy number, not even his car's tags. There was nothing I could do to keep him from speeding off into the night.
Instead, he drove slowly behind me across the span of the bridge and to the first exit. We exchanged information, and he asked if I knew how to get home. I confessed I didn't know where the next entrance to the highway was, so he looked up directions for me before I drove off.
And then I got pulled over for a broken (let's face it -- smashed to bits) tail light.
I explained to the police officer that it had only been broken for about 15 minutes, and I was on my way home. He was very kind, but still had to run my license. While he was in his car, a truck pulled over in front of me and out stepped my unlikely friend. He walked back to the officer and explained he'd rear ended me.
On his way back to the car, he said he didn't want me to get a ticket on top of getting my car bashed. I thanked him and said I hoped the rest of his night went better, and in an attempt at cheerfulness he said, "It can't really get much worse."
But it could've been. I thought back over all the nights that had been worse than a car accident with no serious injuries. I thought of the inches and fractions of seconds that could've made that night one where someone didn't make it home.
I also thought of all the opportunities that young man had to escape. He had the opportunity to run from his responsibility. He could've chosen to do the wrong thing and thank his stars I didn't have any recourse. Instead, he chose to do the right and good thing, even when it cost him something.
It might not seem like a big deal, but in the past year I've had a lot of people choose easy instead of the hard thing that was right. How the consequences of their choices affected people like me wasn't as important as saving their own skin or priorities or story.
To me, it seemed a given that would happen again.
I am so thankful. Not for the accident itself, of course, but for the reminder that there are good people who see beyond themselves. I thought maybe they'd all disappeared.
I'm glad some are still around.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I Got Hit By A Bus
Yesterday, I got hit by a bus.
This is not a metaphor. It's not an exaggeration, tall tale, or even a blatant lie.
It's the truth. And I am too pretty for it.
I was driving in Seattle, on my way home from work. I innocently took a right-hand turn, which caused my lazy car to cough and stall. With the remaining momentum, I strong-armed it to the side of the road and put my flashers on (why yes, I *have* done this before).
Cars zoomed around me, shooting me sympathetic, glad-it-wasn't-me glances. I was just happy I was safe.
That lasted maybe two minutes.
As the bright lights in my rearview mirror alerted me to the bus pulling around the corner, I realized... I was sitting at a bus stop.
And Seattle's buses run on cables.
Ohhhh...kay.
So. I'm fine, my car is okay, and now I have the pleasure of adding one more story to my repertoire. But this means that, at least for awhile, all whining I encounter gets met with, "Oh, yeah? I got hit by a BUS!"
There are perks to having public transportation vehicles plough into you, after all.
Plus, people tell you they're worried you're tweeting from the dead, and that's kind of awesome, too.
This is not a metaphor. It's not an exaggeration, tall tale, or even a blatant lie.
It's the truth. And I am too pretty for it.
I was driving in Seattle, on my way home from work. I innocently took a right-hand turn, which caused my lazy car to cough and stall. With the remaining momentum, I strong-armed it to the side of the road and put my flashers on (why yes, I *have* done this before).
Cars zoomed around me, shooting me sympathetic, glad-it-wasn't-me glances. I was just happy I was safe.
That lasted maybe two minutes.
As the bright lights in my rearview mirror alerted me to the bus pulling around the corner, I realized... I was sitting at a bus stop.
And Seattle's buses run on cables.
Ohhhh...kay.
So. I'm fine, my car is okay, and now I have the pleasure of adding one more story to my repertoire. But this means that, at least for awhile, all whining I encounter gets met with, "Oh, yeah? I got hit by a BUS!"
There are perks to having public transportation vehicles plough into you, after all.
Plus, people tell you they're worried you're tweeting from the dead, and that's kind of awesome, too.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Be Really Good At Being Really Bad
"If you can't be good at something, Christina, you should be really good at being bad at it."
I took my mother's advice to heart.
One time, I knew my tires were low and was hoping to get someone to put air in them for me. So I drove to an auto supply store, and in a wide-eyed, damsel-in-distress fashion, asked where the tire gauges would be and what they looked like.
The guy behind the counter could see he was going to have to be a hero, so he guided me to the tire gauges, explained why I didn't need the most expensive one they carried, and showed me how it worked. After I paid for it, he then demonstrated -- on each of my four tires -- how to test the air pressure.
"So," I asked cautiously, "How does one get air in the tires once you know they're low?"
My new friend explained that he couldn't leave the shop to fill my tires at the gas station across the street, but gave detailed instructions. He hesitated, then asked how far I planned to drive that day.
"Why?"
"Because you have a bald tire. And I mean, it's really bad. I'd be worried that it might blow if you get on the freeway."
Oh, dear. That was a slight problem. It got dealt with, but here are the truths I think this story demonstrates:
If you don't know something, ask. I really didn't know where the tire gauges were, and I didn't know how to use them.
Make it clear that you know someone is doing you a good turn. It made that guy's afternoon that he got to save the day for pretty little me. And I batted my eyes, hung on his every word, and thanked him for his help to let him know his expertise and assistance were appreciated.
Sometimes, you get more than you expected... and that's a good thing. People like to help when help is appreciated. Not only did this guy make sure I bought the most reasonably priced tire gauge, make sure I understood how it worked, and then check all my tires, but he threw in an extra bonus when he told me I was gambling with my life every time I zoomed up to 70 on the interstate.
We both benefited and felt happy about our interaction. All because I was really good at being really bad at something.
I took my mother's advice to heart.
One time, I knew my tires were low and was hoping to get someone to put air in them for me. So I drove to an auto supply store, and in a wide-eyed, damsel-in-distress fashion, asked where the tire gauges would be and what they looked like.
The guy behind the counter could see he was going to have to be a hero, so he guided me to the tire gauges, explained why I didn't need the most expensive one they carried, and showed me how it worked. After I paid for it, he then demonstrated -- on each of my four tires -- how to test the air pressure.
"So," I asked cautiously, "How does one get air in the tires once you know they're low?"
My new friend explained that he couldn't leave the shop to fill my tires at the gas station across the street, but gave detailed instructions. He hesitated, then asked how far I planned to drive that day.
"Why?"
"Because you have a bald tire. And I mean, it's really bad. I'd be worried that it might blow if you get on the freeway."
Oh, dear. That was a slight problem. It got dealt with, but here are the truths I think this story demonstrates:
If you don't know something, ask. I really didn't know where the tire gauges were, and I didn't know how to use them.
Make it clear that you know someone is doing you a good turn. It made that guy's afternoon that he got to save the day for pretty little me. And I batted my eyes, hung on his every word, and thanked him for his help to let him know his expertise and assistance were appreciated.
Sometimes, you get more than you expected... and that's a good thing. People like to help when help is appreciated. Not only did this guy make sure I bought the most reasonably priced tire gauge, make sure I understood how it worked, and then check all my tires, but he threw in an extra bonus when he told me I was gambling with my life every time I zoomed up to 70 on the interstate.
We both benefited and felt happy about our interaction. All because I was really good at being really bad at something.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
STUFF (And Christmas)
I like stuff.
(One stuff I like is a soy, no-whip peppermint mocha.)
Having things makes me feel safe. I haven't always felt that way, though. Growing up, I was in a kind-of big family in kind-of small house occupied by a herd of kind-of pack rats. I swore that when I was on my own, I'd have a bed, a dresser with my clothes, and maybe a single book.
That was it.
Anyone who has ever hung out in my apartment or ridden in my car knows I failed to keep that solemn childhood vow.
So moving is difficult, because it means choosing what is worth keeping and what needs to be tossed. And the time frame that I gave myself (uh, super-super short) necessitates quick decisions. I barely have time to say goodbye to everyone I love, so you can bet I don't have time to sell things on Craigslist. What does this mean? It means I've giving almost everything away.
I'm giving away books. I'm giving away teaching jobs. I'm giving away clothes, and vases, and miscellaneous canned food (tangent: why did I buy canned asparagus?).
In a seems-more-than-coincidental twist, giving away Things I Want To Keep is freeing me. And more than any pine scent, peppermint mocha, mall Santa's Shop or holiday melody, this process of giving important stuff has excited me for Christmas.
I didn't expect to find joy here. So while I still like my stuff, I'm thankful to let it go.
Where are you unexpectedly discovering bits of holiday spirit?
(One stuff I like is a soy, no-whip peppermint mocha.)Having things makes me feel safe. I haven't always felt that way, though. Growing up, I was in a kind-of big family in kind-of small house occupied by a herd of kind-of pack rats. I swore that when I was on my own, I'd have a bed, a dresser with my clothes, and maybe a single book.
That was it.
Anyone who has ever hung out in my apartment or ridden in my car knows I failed to keep that solemn childhood vow.
So moving is difficult, because it means choosing what is worth keeping and what needs to be tossed. And the time frame that I gave myself (uh, super-super short) necessitates quick decisions. I barely have time to say goodbye to everyone I love, so you can bet I don't have time to sell things on Craigslist. What does this mean? It means I've giving almost everything away.
I'm giving away books. I'm giving away teaching jobs. I'm giving away clothes, and vases, and miscellaneous canned food (tangent: why did I buy canned asparagus?).
In a seems-more-than-coincidental twist, giving away Things I Want To Keep is freeing me. And more than any pine scent, peppermint mocha, mall Santa's Shop or holiday melody, this process of giving important stuff has excited me for Christmas.
I didn't expect to find joy here. So while I still like my stuff, I'm thankful to let it go.
Where are you unexpectedly discovering bits of holiday spirit?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Three Pretty Things : 11/29
How was your Thanksgiving weekend? I hope it was filled with happiness and memory-making, as mine was.
The entire week leading up to the holiday was one for which I am thankful. So many pretty things... but here are three that made me stop and smile.
It's a family joke that we're related to Sherlock Holmes (we aren't, because he is pretend). Seeing this display at Barnes and Noble made me giggle and made other shoppers step away from me.
My friend Ashley and I wrote a letter to Santa. As she put it in the box, I saw the Believe Meter's hand move to the right!
Okay. I moved it myself. Whatever.
This is a tree from which birds tend to poop on cars, so I try not to park near it. But without leaves (and without birds), it's really rather beautiful.
Tell me in the comments: what made your life pretty this week?
The entire week leading up to the holiday was one for which I am thankful. So many pretty things... but here are three that made me stop and smile.
It's a family joke that we're related to Sherlock Holmes (we aren't, because he is pretend). Seeing this display at Barnes and Noble made me giggle and made other shoppers step away from me.
My friend Ashley and I wrote a letter to Santa. As she put it in the box, I saw the Believe Meter's hand move to the right!Okay. I moved it myself. Whatever.
This is a tree from which birds tend to poop on cars, so I try not to park near it. But without leaves (and without birds), it's really rather beautiful.Tell me in the comments: what made your life pretty this week?
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Dear Virginia Driver...
Dear Virginia Driver,
How are you doing? I'm sure your day is going well, because you managed to get yourself out of a tight spot. I mean that literally -- the parking spot you chose was just a little squished for your car and your abilities. I know, because in your efforts, you managed to leave a dent and streaks of paint along my back bumper.
What you didn't leave, however, is a note.
I know, I know, times are rough with this economy and all. I'm sure you didn't work my car repairs into your budget. I've bumped into a few vehicles in my day, so I know the way your stomach churns at the thought.
But I left a note.
I left a note when I was making minimum wage working retail over summer breaks. I left a note when I was certain the dent could just be hammered out and the paint chips buffed off. I left a note because I am not a bitch, and think other people might be attached to their belongings and have a reasonable expectation that cars won't be banged up after a 15 minute stop at the grocery store.
So Virginia Driver, whoever you are, I want to thank you for giving me another reason to be happy I'm leaving this town. Thank you for reminding me that I behave better than you, I'm probably prettier than you, and am a whole lot less rotten on the inside than you.
Sincerely,
Christina
How are you doing? I'm sure your day is going well, because you managed to get yourself out of a tight spot. I mean that literally -- the parking spot you chose was just a little squished for your car and your abilities. I know, because in your efforts, you managed to leave a dent and streaks of paint along my back bumper.
What you didn't leave, however, is a note.
I know, I know, times are rough with this economy and all. I'm sure you didn't work my car repairs into your budget. I've bumped into a few vehicles in my day, so I know the way your stomach churns at the thought.
But I left a note.
I left a note when I was making minimum wage working retail over summer breaks. I left a note when I was certain the dent could just be hammered out and the paint chips buffed off. I left a note because I am not a bitch, and think other people might be attached to their belongings and have a reasonable expectation that cars won't be banged up after a 15 minute stop at the grocery store.
So Virginia Driver, whoever you are, I want to thank you for giving me another reason to be happy I'm leaving this town. Thank you for reminding me that I behave better than you, I'm probably prettier than you, and am a whole lot less rotten on the inside than you.
Sincerely,
Christina
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Three Pretty Things : 10/25
This has been an amazing week in so many ways. If you've been reading along with me, you know why.
But in addition to the big crazy moments have been a few that stopped me in my tracks, struck by the beauty of life. So often I'm tired or busy or uncaffeinated and I miss them. Luckily, a few made their way onto my iPhone this week, and I get to share them with you.
Here are Three Pretty Things.
Sunrise from my apartment building as I left for work.
One thing I love about the east coast is the vibrantly-hued leaves. They don't come in as many colors back home.
In no way does this picture do the Blue Ridge Mountains justice, but it's what I see when I drive to my Thursday night class every week.
What moments this week made you just drop everything to soak it in?
But in addition to the big crazy moments have been a few that stopped me in my tracks, struck by the beauty of life. So often I'm tired or busy or uncaffeinated and I miss them. Luckily, a few made their way onto my iPhone this week, and I get to share them with you.
Here are Three Pretty Things.
Sunrise from my apartment building as I left for work.
One thing I love about the east coast is the vibrantly-hued leaves. They don't come in as many colors back home.
In no way does this picture do the Blue Ridge Mountains justice, but it's what I see when I drive to my Thursday night class every week.What moments this week made you just drop everything to soak it in?
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Getaway
You all figured out pretty quickly that I wasn't updating the site this past weekend. It's true: after several weeks of frustrating circumstances -- car death being the most obvious example -- I needed time off. A few friends and I left town for a couple of days to outrun our problems.
It worked!
A few memories:
I had hoped that some of the glow would rub off on my Monday so I could ease into the week. Instead, I found two dead bugs in my second cup of coffee after setting it down for only a moment. They were probably on a kamikaze mission to sabotage my day.
Too bad. I'm a hard egg to crack, and I'm determined that even this bill-paying, lesson-planning, exam-writing, grading-grading-grading day is going to be a good one.
How was your weekend?
It worked!
A few memories:
- Three girls, one bed.
- "That Pennsylvanian is driving erotically."
- Matching Twister shirts = lots of unanticipated attention.
- Running in the rain.
- Piggy-back ride up the escalator (scary!).
I had hoped that some of the glow would rub off on my Monday so I could ease into the week. Instead, I found two dead bugs in my second cup of coffee after setting it down for only a moment. They were probably on a kamikaze mission to sabotage my day.
Too bad. I'm a hard egg to crack, and I'm determined that even this bill-paying, lesson-planning, exam-writing, grading-grading-grading day is going to be a good one.
How was your weekend?
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Garlic In The Glove Compartment
It has been a LONG week, and I haven't been good about posting here. But there is good news...
I finally purchased a car!
I took this picture yesterday after I got home. When I called my mom later in the day to tell her about it, I wandered outside to my balcony... only to see two blue Toyota Camrys parked next to one another. And I didn't know which was mine.
Oops.
Luckily the car came with a beeper thing, and I was able to point and click. The prettier of the two blue Toyotas honked politely and flashed its lights at me. My mother then advised I hurry and put garlic in the glove compartment before anything bad happened.
Why garlic in the glove compartment, you ask?
Because my Grandma Paula was from Transylvania, and it's traditional to put garlic in new cars and homes to ward off vampires and evil spirits.
This morning I found that one thing garlic will not protect against is "check engine" lights. I immediately took the car back to the dealership, where they agreed to take care of the [minor] problem since I bought the car less than 24 hours ago.
Either the world is finally realizing that I *am* too pretty to deal with crap... or the garlic worked. But as long as things keep looking up, I don't care too much about the reason.
I finally purchased a car!
I took this picture yesterday after I got home. When I called my mom later in the day to tell her about it, I wandered outside to my balcony... only to see two blue Toyota Camrys parked next to one another. And I didn't know which was mine.
Oops.
Luckily the car came with a beeper thing, and I was able to point and click. The prettier of the two blue Toyotas honked politely and flashed its lights at me. My mother then advised I hurry and put garlic in the glove compartment before anything bad happened.
Why garlic in the glove compartment, you ask?Because my Grandma Paula was from Transylvania, and it's traditional to put garlic in new cars and homes to ward off vampires and evil spirits.
This morning I found that one thing garlic will not protect against is "check engine" lights. I immediately took the car back to the dealership, where they agreed to take care of the [minor] problem since I bought the car less than 24 hours ago.
Either the world is finally realizing that I *am* too pretty to deal with crap... or the garlic worked. But as long as things keep looking up, I don't care too much about the reason.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
One Day This Will Be Funny
This portion of my life is going to be great... one day.
When I have put enough distance between myself and the current Now, it will be a great story of endurance, survival, and belly laughs. At the moment, however, it is definitely an "I'm too pretty for this!" tale.
Some of you remember that my dear Chrysler LeBaron died last Friday. Since then, my friends Hunter and Laura have been schlepping me everywhere -- car dealerships, work, etc. For some reason, they love me that much. But even the best of friends don't deserve what they endured with me yesterday.
First, Laura picked me up for work. This meant that she left the house about 45 minutes earlier than she normally needed to. I taught class, and afterward was approached by a student asking if he could give his speech that he missed on Friday.
You might remember this guy. It was the same one who told me he missed turning in an assignment because "he couldn't get out of bed." And yes, you'd be right if you guessed he slept in this time, too. I refrained from telling him that even with my car breaking down on the way in to campus, *I* still made it on time.
After class, I visited my vehicle and put a note in the window explaining it was broken down and I was arranging for a tow (fingers crossed that it's still there). I then went online to reserve a rental car. My first choice -- Hertz -- was out of vehicles for the day, so Kayak.com suggested Enterprise. I booked the car, Hunter came to get me, and we headed to the airport to pick up my compact.
When we got there, we discovered Kayak interprets location loosely. When I said I wanted a car at the airport, the website took that to mean "within 10 miles of the airport," which is really not the same thing if you're on foot. Luckily I wasn't, so Hunter I went to the office several miles away.
Where they did not have a car ready for me.
Nor did they two hours later, when they promised to.
Or an hour after that. Or that.
In fact, Enterprise didn't have a car for me until 5:45 p.m., though my reservation was for noon. And when I climbed into the Yaris (aka "The Most Poorly Designed Car Ever"), I was choked by cigarette fumes... which is why I didn't notice the "check engine" light till I got home.
I called today at 10 a.m. to complain, and the branch manager assured me she'd call when they had another car to trade me. It's now 5 p.m., and I haven't heard back.
Oh, and did I mention that the car that I had hoped to test drive -- the one I would've test driven had I a vehicle when I'd arranged for one -- was sold an HOUR before I got the keys to the rental?
I am waaaaaaay too pretty for this.
When I have put enough distance between myself and the current Now, it will be a great story of endurance, survival, and belly laughs. At the moment, however, it is definitely an "I'm too pretty for this!" tale.
Some of you remember that my dear Chrysler LeBaron died last Friday. Since then, my friends Hunter and Laura have been schlepping me everywhere -- car dealerships, work, etc. For some reason, they love me that much. But even the best of friends don't deserve what they endured with me yesterday.
First, Laura picked me up for work. This meant that she left the house about 45 minutes earlier than she normally needed to. I taught class, and afterward was approached by a student asking if he could give his speech that he missed on Friday.
You might remember this guy. It was the same one who told me he missed turning in an assignment because "he couldn't get out of bed." And yes, you'd be right if you guessed he slept in this time, too. I refrained from telling him that even with my car breaking down on the way in to campus, *I* still made it on time.
After class, I visited my vehicle and put a note in the window explaining it was broken down and I was arranging for a tow (fingers crossed that it's still there). I then went online to reserve a rental car. My first choice -- Hertz -- was out of vehicles for the day, so Kayak.com suggested Enterprise. I booked the car, Hunter came to get me, and we headed to the airport to pick up my compact.
When we got there, we discovered Kayak interprets location loosely. When I said I wanted a car at the airport, the website took that to mean "within 10 miles of the airport," which is really not the same thing if you're on foot. Luckily I wasn't, so Hunter I went to the office several miles away.
Where they did not have a car ready for me.
Nor did they two hours later, when they promised to.
Or an hour after that. Or that.
In fact, Enterprise didn't have a car for me until 5:45 p.m., though my reservation was for noon. And when I climbed into the Yaris (aka "The Most Poorly Designed Car Ever"), I was choked by cigarette fumes... which is why I didn't notice the "check engine" light till I got home.
I called today at 10 a.m. to complain, and the branch manager assured me she'd call when they had another car to trade me. It's now 5 p.m., and I haven't heard back.
Oh, and did I mention that the car that I had hoped to test drive -- the one I would've test driven had I a vehicle when I'd arranged for one -- was sold an HOUR before I got the keys to the rental?
I am waaaaaaay too pretty for this.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Goodbye, Friend
Today I lost one of my best friends.
We'd known each other for more years than I can count, but have been nearly inseparable for the last seven. So it broke my heart that this morning, softly, my car sputtered and passed away.
We met as children, when my grandparents bought LeBaron and drove around the island ensconced in the padded-velour interior. I sometimes rode along, but never dreamed that one day my Grandpa Wayne would send me to Virginia in that car.
LeBaron and I have been through a lot: Canadian goose attacks, cross-country road trips, highway racing with Rev. Jerry Falwell, cement posts, accidental break-ins, and a constant barrage of pseudo-compliments ("couch on wheels" sounds comfortable, but not sexy or fast). It's been an exciting friendship.
The first rumblings of trouble began two years ago. First, the rear view mirror fell off. We laughed, my car and I, about how we were getting older and our parts weren't what they used to be. But LeBaron was soon after diagnosed with a bad transmission. It was weeks before we knew she'd recover.
Ever since, we've carefully watched for signs of illness. It was as if we both knew that we were on borrowed time, and we had to make the most of it.
The terminal diagnosis came in May of this year, when the starter and cluster both gave out. The starter was an easy (though pricey) fix... but electronic clusters are nearly impossible to find. So though we navigated the same streets and routes as always, and I took special care of my poor car, LeBaron was fighting a losing battle.
And today, she breathed her last.
The official cause of death was a shredded belt and a bad tensioner, but the futile search for a cluster is what made her give up hope.
I will miss my car.
We'd known each other for more years than I can count, but have been nearly inseparable for the last seven. So it broke my heart that this morning, softly, my car sputtered and passed away.
We met as children, when my grandparents bought LeBaron and drove around the island ensconced in the padded-velour interior. I sometimes rode along, but never dreamed that one day my Grandpa Wayne would send me to Virginia in that car.LeBaron and I have been through a lot: Canadian goose attacks, cross-country road trips, highway racing with Rev. Jerry Falwell, cement posts, accidental break-ins, and a constant barrage of pseudo-compliments ("couch on wheels" sounds comfortable, but not sexy or fast). It's been an exciting friendship.
The first rumblings of trouble began two years ago. First, the rear view mirror fell off. We laughed, my car and I, about how we were getting older and our parts weren't what they used to be. But LeBaron was soon after diagnosed with a bad transmission. It was weeks before we knew she'd recover.
Ever since, we've carefully watched for signs of illness. It was as if we both knew that we were on borrowed time, and we had to make the most of it.
The terminal diagnosis came in May of this year, when the starter and cluster both gave out. The starter was an easy (though pricey) fix... but electronic clusters are nearly impossible to find. So though we navigated the same streets and routes as always, and I took special care of my poor car, LeBaron was fighting a losing battle.
And today, she breathed her last.
The official cause of death was a shredded belt and a bad tensioner, but the futile search for a cluster is what made her give up hope.
I will miss my car.
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