Keep on Truckin’

A week after the harrowing tire-blow-out-spin-out-freak-out, I got my sweet little truck back from the shop.  The good news: the body damage can be repaired.  The bad news: because there was no official report from CHP, we need to play the “wait and see” game while the tire company investigates, and hopefully they will give us the money to make the repairs.  Luckily, the truck is fine to drive.  FINE, that is, if I weren’t terrified about driving now.

 

The recent incident has me a bit gunshy about driving.  I have been in  – and witnessed – way worse accidents, and this wasn’t bad AT ALL…but I don’t know.  Maybe with age comes a better sense of mortality, or maybe The Crazy is seeping in more as I get older, or maybe I’m just a big fat chicken.   Point is, each time I get behind the wheel now I feel like calling everyone I know to say goodbye “just in case” and that is NOT OK.

 

I ventured out for an afternoon of errands, Billy Squier’s “The Stroke” playing on the radio, windows down (if only I had a TransAm and my REO Speedwagon shirt), slight breeze in the air.  While stopped at a light, I could feel my truck rumbling and vibrating a bit.  Before I knew it, I was convinced that IT WAS GOING TO BLOW OH MY GOD HIT THE DECKS and then a couple of yahoos with their bass pumping drove past me in the turn lane.  The rumbling-vibrating ceased.  I got a hold of myself, but variations on this scene repeated themselves while I was out, and I don’t care for this new scaredy cat CKD.  She’s lame and doesn’t want to go anywhere. 

 

The solution to getting over myself seems to be a combination of getting back on the horse, so to speak, and taking it easy.  A chat with a friend revealed a big source of my fears, driving and non-driving related: lack of control.  Having your tire explode is out of your control, the car – for a moment – was out of my control, and that is scary.  Maybe this is a good lesson that I CAN deal with situations that are out of my control and get back on course.  Or maybe I had too much wine tonight.

 

One thing that has helped my confidence?  That would be helping a certain friend (coughKatiecough) who ran out of gas on her way home.  Having someone lean on me and being forced into action made me forget that I had to, you know…DRIVE A CAR.  I just got up and did it because that’s what you do for a friend, and you don’t let fear get in the way.  And because I am SUCH A GREAT FRIEND I also teased her mercilessly and took pictures:

 

Helpful: bringing a gas can. Not helpful: taking pictures and laughing.

 

Yeah, I might be slightly jumpy but I’m still an asshole.  Comforting, yes?

What’s with the Covert Ops?

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Why Old Navy is Stupid and I Hate Their Stupid Dresses and Their Stupid Faces

Hi, I’m going to pitch a fit over how dresses carried by a certain store don’t fit me just right.  Oh, if everyone had the same first world issues I do!  Life would be so simple!

 

I have a love-hate relationship with Old Navy.  Love the prices, sales, and fun colors.  And did I mention the prices?  Hello, trendy dress for $15!  Hate that sometimes certain pieces shrink inexplicably (I follow the care instructions, yo!) and the inconsistency in sizing (I seriously must try on every damn thing because I could be an extra small or a medium – who knows). 

 

Right now, the source of my ire is the way their super-cute, super-affordable, super-fun dresses look like super-ass on me. 

 

Old Navy, what the hell is up with all of that bunching?  An empire waist style is typically quite flattering, but you have taken floaty to a whole new level and made it downright poufy, making my hips and ass look way bigger than they are.  Now, I’m down with my hips and curves: I’m all “A” and no “T” and I am pretty good at dressing my body type.  But Old Navy, I look like a shapeless lump.  Not every person who shops there is built like Heidi Klum.  WORK WITH ME! 

 

Or at the very least, switch up some of the styles this season and give the flat-chested, bootylicious girls a shot at looking smokin’ this season.

Don’t Even Ask About His Plans for Christmas

While wine tasting (OK, OK, day drinking) with Dave:

 

Me: “So, I assume you don’t want to join us for church on Easter?”

 

Dave: “Nope.  Not unless I can bring some frogs.  And dry ice.  And then when I go up for communion, I can make smoke and frogs and maybe some locusts come out of my pockets.  That would be so cool!  People will be screaming ‘El Diablo!’ … Is this one my glass of wine?”

 

Me: “Let’s skip the frogs and we’ll just see you at brunch.”

Movin’ on Up

To a deeeeluxe new site: https://isthisthingonckd.wordpress.com/

New look, same great snarky attitude! Be sure to update your Google reader and come visit soon!

Just Call Me “Impatient Spice”

Setting up this new site has been fun, but mostly challenging.  I am…how you say?  Ah yes, impatient as all hell and overly dramatic about everything.  Everything, I say!  I have been using blogger for about a year and know the ins-and-outs, and having to do things like read instructions or take 5 seconds to figure something out has tested my will to live.  (See?  Dramatic!) 

 

Many thanks to Cece, dear friend and WordPress Yoda to my whiny Luke Skywalker, for helping me figure this out and offering encouragement.  You’re the best!

 

And so now I ask you, dear Interweb, to be patient with me as I get this site looking pretty and sassy and make it a place where you’ll be excited to read about my drunken antics and obssession with Jason Bateman.

Grace in Small Things: Super Friends Edition

Not that my friendships are a “small thing” but you know…

1.) The comfort and easy laughter of talks, emails and IM’s with old friends nearly makes me spit coffee all over myself, but oh is it worth it. Might be a good thing we all don’t live near each other; the amount of ditching work to watch movies and day drink would be astounding.

2.) The appearance of new friends (I say “new” but mean “within the last year”) who have enriched my life and brought unexpected joy and perspective into my world. I can only hope I do a fraction of the same for each of them.

3.) The friends I have yet-to-actually-meet who exist somewhere in the bloggy world and push me to continue writing, however silly, and put it out there. That surprising support sustains me just when I think “Who cares?” and want to chuck it all.

4.) The expansion of my circle due to marriages and babies thrills me like none other, because if there’s one thing I like it’s a good party. And what better reason to celebrate than true love and shmoopy wee ones? Also, an open bar helps and pregnant chicks are great designated drivers.

5.) The constant reminders each of my friends give me to think about the small, beautiful things in life in the middle of chaos keep me sane and comforted when I feel overwhelmed or alone. Thank you.

My New Home

So glad you followed me over here!  I hope to get this new site up and running soon and unveil it for all the world to enjoy.

This and That

I have no idea what is up, but I am EXHAUSTED. Not sure if I’m fighting off a cold or something, but my body appears to be shutting down, and my brain isn’t far behind. Here’s some updates, clarifications and Bluth family hilarity for you on a windy Wednesday:

-Um, just wanted to make it clear that at the time of my little incident on I-80, I WAS NOT DRINKING. The boozy part of the weekend took place post-accident, while I was safely relaxing at my cousin’s home. And driving was done by a sober individual. Thanks, Dad!

-My truck sustained some fairly concerning damage and will survive, but the repairs are not limited to the tires. The tire shop dude said it appeared my rear tire suffered “catastrophic failure” which I think would be an awesome band name. Anyway, I will be spending some time trying to get CHP to give me a report detailing what they saw (I think the words “semi-hysterical white girl” and “huge-ass pieces of tire all over the damn place” will appear in the official report) and my only hope is that I will get to meet Ponch. And that the tire company will have to pay to fix the damage because it wasn’t my fault the tire just up and exploded.

-This: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIT5sFhw4sU&fmt=18 has been making me laugh uncontrollably for the last day or so. If you were not a fan of Arrested Development it probably won’t make you laugh quite as hard, but oh man…so good. Full disclosure: I sometimes dance like Lindsay and GOB when I am drunk. STEVE HOLT!

-One side of my hair is growing faster than the other. That’s weird, right?

-Lately I’ve been spending way too much time contemplating the differences and my preferences between Tombstone and Wyatt Earp. I think I like Kurt Russell better as Earp, but really love that Mark Harmon is in the Kevin Costner version. And I am torn between the two Doc Hollidays…Val Kilmer and Dennis Quaid are both pretty hot and Quaid lost all that weight to make the tuberculosis seem real. See my dilemma? There’s room in my heart for both films, not to mention room in pants for all the hotties of each movie (hey-o!) so I suppose there’s no reason to choose.

-I am wearing these little weird sorta-stocking things that only cover my toes. They keep my feet from sliding in my shoes and protect my pedi (Holla!) but when I walk my feet make this weird noise. It sounds like I’m tooting with each step WHICH I ASSURE YOU I AM NOT. Might need to abandon them. (The stockings, not my feet.)

-My goal tonight is to stay awake to watch the remaining episodes of Battlestar Galactica on Hulu, so please do not tell me what happens in the finale, OK? Thanks.