Cody and I were going to get a new car. We looked at new cars. We test drove, we compared, we fell in love, we decided (Toyota Camry Hybrid, black with leather moonroof smart key heated seats and ooh uhmm mmm). And then we ran into all the crap that deals with loans and law school and limits and blah blah have I mentioned graduate school blows?
Anyway.
Instead we’re going to be practical *snort* and fix his 1998 junker in hopes it will last ten more years long enough to drive it dead. (We’ve already put twice as much into fixing it in the last year than we bought it for. gag gag gag.)
So it’s in the shop with a two thousand dollar quote. BUT! When repairs total over $250 at this particular shop you get a loaner car while they fix your busted up car. Sweet right?
Sooo, you’ve got a young mom with a camera, a car seat and a Cheerio wielding toddler in your office, what kind of car do you pick for her? (You get to choose from the Chrysler, Jeep, Dodge line.)
Pacifica? Maybe.
Caravan? Sure!
300M? Totally.
Neon? Okay, if you have to.
But apparently Bruce figured me a sassy (albeit impractical) kind of gal. So he hooked the moosh and me up with a two door convertible. Uh huh, that’s right.
(If you own this car I’m not making fun of you, it’s a lovely car. Just not so practical in Indiana for a mom. Just sayin’.)
See how the top is down and the sky is kind of gloomy? Like it’s about to rain? Yeah, that’s because it was gloomy and about to rain. And kind of cold. And yet we were the ones driving down the road with the top down because I was the one stupid enough to show the moosh that the damn roof came off in the first place.
But the moosh is in love, she believes this car to be the reincarnation of AWESOME.
And this is how I became the dork driving a bright blue car down the road in 58 degree weather with looming rain clouds, the roof open and a small curly headed banshee shrieking with joy in the backseat.
April 24, 2008
So maybe you’ve heard of BOSSY.
Maybe you’re aware that she’s on a month long road trip around the country and is relying on the goodness of her fellow bloggers to put her up and make sure she makes it back home in one sane piece.
If you weren’t aware, there is a blogger named BOSSY who is on a month long road trip around the country and is relying on the goodness of her fellow bloggers to put her up and make sure she makes it back home in one sane piece.
The good blogger who will be putting her up tonight in Indianapolis is named Casey. Oh wait. That’s me.
Hi!
So here’s the thing. I’ve been following the road trip and am sorry to report that BOSSY may have a hard time here. Of course she’d never say it on her own blog because she’s a classy broad. But she’ll be spending the night on my couch, my small couch with a substantial bar that is probably about seven inches too short to accommodate her height. If she’s really lucky she’ll get an air mattress that will lose air gradually overnight until she’s smothered in a hammock of plastic, flat on the ground. It’s not going to get any better in the morning. I don’t drink coffee. There’s no coffee joints around my house for many a mile (unless you count the seedy convenience store down the street). And when I say house. I mean apartment, graduate student apartment with exercise equipment hanging from the walls.
About the only thing I have to offer BOSSY is running water and my cooking ability. But even my finest of baked good won’t help the situation as she claims she is so full from Pringles and swallowed air from all the gum she chews to keep her awake on the road that she has no desire for any food what so ever. Strike three.
Technically strike three would land me out of the game. But alas, there is a strike four.
BOSSY can’t drink when she drives, and she has written in length about the late night wine she has enjoyed with friends on her road trip. This is strike four, for there is nary a drop of liquor in my house unless you count the tablespoon left over from the whole pecan pie debacle of 2007.
Filed under: 
