Gene and Cal

Officially the owner of a 2003 pepperwhite MINI that is practically perfect in every way. Now I have to pick a name, which is proving more difficult than I foresaw. When I drive around in her/him I'll get a good feel for a name. I would pick Evelin, but I actually want to name a child that, not a car. How unfortunate for my little girl Evelin to think that she was named after my car? No matter how many times I would tell her that, no, she was named after an amazing woman who changed my life, she would still equate her name with the car. I can't do that to my unborn child.

The ad was put out by a family name named Gene who owns a 1970 red El Camino and a white Hummer. Says he has no more need for the MINI and with the aforementioned cars (plus more) I can understand that. My good judge of character kicked in right away and I knew Gene wasn't going to shaft me on this one. Hell, he trusted me enough to drive the car about 20 minutes away to Cal, a mechanic who does business out of his home. That's saying a lot, I think. Cal was great about the car and gave his full approval. I like Cal-- he's the only man I know that owns and operates a car lift in his backyard.

Job? Check.
Home? Check.
Health insurance? Check.
Friends? Check.
Car? Check.
Furniture?....

Adventures At Millwood

Bloody fucking hell this places is rampant with spiders. Spiders of various sizes and colors. I'm just waiting for one to crawl into my mouth while I sleep at night.

Despite the spider infestation that has been dwindling since our arrival eight weeks ago life at Millwood is nice, but God I want some furniture. For instance, I'd really like a couch that isn't covered in black dog hair. Or maybe a swivel chair for my desk instead of the oddly upholstered stool that I've been using (which was left in the kitchen and is indistinguishable in age).

Erika and I eat so well here. She made chicken noodle soup the other day. From scratch. Scratch people! We spend most of our time in the kitchen, which is not where I would necessarily say a woman belongs, but to hell with feminist ideals. I love to cook and I'm going to fucking do it as often as I can.

Life Goal #26: Slap a Bitch

I swear to God NPR is gold. Anything that can give me the best news and A Prairie Home Companion on a weekly basis deserves a mention here and there. Some benefits of listening to NPR are as simple as knowing you are educating yourself on major domestic and world issues to realizing that you're smarter than that guy picking his nose in the car next to you.

Speaking of, I'm still looking for a car but the goal is closer in site. I can almost taste the upholstery. I say "taste" because smelling just won't cut it for me. I've been wanting this since I was 12 and dammit if I'm not within a week's time of fulfilling life goal #36.

In case you're wondering I recently made a list of life goals, some of which I have already completed. Skydiving is done, as well as travel throughout Italy. A couple of others:

#18 Meet Desmond Tutu
#5 Drive across country and have specific music genres correlating with specific regions of the country
#22 Have Christmas lights all over my house like Clark Griswold
#26 Slap a bitch
#3 Make naan in a tandoori oven (in India)
#11 See a live taping of Prairie Home Companion
#1 Protest, and get arrested for it

Some of these are going to require extensive travel, obviously. This is why they are life goals. I don't mind being a wrinkly old white lady throwing dough into a burning hot oven with my osteoporosis-riddled hands. Of course, I rather be young and in better health before I go to India. Lord knows what the food would do to the digestive system of an 86 year old.

Funny/Sad Things My Kids Have Said:
"What are fajitas?"
"Does this make me look skinny?"
"Wait...where's New England? Is that a state?"
"Federalism! It's like a taco! Or a cupcake!"

Bills

My health insurance is screwing me over.

Never ever ride in an ambulance if you can help it. Even if you are bleeding, unconscious, vomiting blood-- try and have someone take you to the hospital instead.

There's my two cents on the matter.

October 4th, 2007

The job I wanted is not the job I got. Instead I have a job I never knew existed and I couldn't be more happy.

In addition to a new job, new city and new friends I'm getting a new car.

And by "new" I mean "pre-owned." Regardless, it's new to me. Being in a car accident that fatally kills your Toyota beyond repair will force one to think about many things (like thanking God you're not in the hospital), but most importantly how to appreciate life to the fullest.

And I'm starting that by making some changes. I'm getting my dream car (a MINI Cooper), going to yoga as often as I can (though I don't think I'll be able to afford it anymore), and just generally trying to get out of the house as much as possible.

I didn't think I'd write on this anymore. Huh.