Tag Archives: car

No title

This post has no title. Why? Because I still do not have a car title.

You may remember my fiasco from last year. Well part of the red tape I spoke of was  trying to get a North Carolina title transferred to a KS title and somehow the KS DMV lost my North Carolina title. I discovered this yesterday when I went to the DMV to get a copy of my title so I could take it over to Missouri to register my car.

I did try to stay calm and collected because I had learned my lesson before. But the following slipped out of my mouth:

“You may think I’m a crazy woman. And I am a crazy woman. But it’s really only because the DMV turns me into a crazy woman.”

They are investigating it today.

tums

Which means I’m only slightly stressed out.

<crunch, crunch, crunch.>

In the meanwhile, I recieved the agenda for Blogher Food in San Fransisco next weekend and I’m beyond excited. 

The problem is, I don’t have enough time to read all these great food bloggers who will be speaking.

I would read some tonight, but I’m going to be too busy trying to cook this recipe tonight for Fire & Wine night with Roomie and DD Girl, using the fiance’s George Foreman grill. 

Ha! Won’t that be a trip.

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Cheating

Things are crazy around here, but I owe you an update from Quirkyville.

We moved! It was a nuts-o weekend, but ultimately, I love our house. Yes, OUR house. Gertie’s, the fiance’s and mine (possibly in that order.) This is totally cheating, because the rest of this post is from an e-mail update I sent the Lunch Bunch yesterday, but who has time to blog these days? Apparently not me.

Here are some promises I can break keep: Coming soon — QoQ has makes her Scottish debut, updates on the wedding at quirkywedding.wordpress.com, the fiance turns 30 and we celebrate, wine & fire night returns and I know exactly where the fire extinguisher is and the battle continues – QoQ v. the fleas. Who will win? It better be me, darn it! (Read on to get the back story.)

Here is how the move went down:

Friday – took off work (because I was out of town all week, and not nearly packed.) But still had to participate in a conference call at 9 a.m. At 10 a.m. Roomie and I went to have a last coffee together as roomies down on then Plaza. We were walking back and waiting at a crosswalk when BAM!

 A car slammed on it’s breaks for us, only to get rear ended. Erg. I stuck around to report as a witness, but after 45 minutes, the cops weren’t even there yet, so I left my number and walked back home. At 11:30 a.m., I loaded up my car to take a trip over to the house. Dropped off tons of stuff and then stopped at QT to get gas and pick up some much needed paper towels. Tried to start my car and nada.

It was dead.

Spent two hours having anxiety attack on the phone with A, calling auto shop and arranging the tow. Took a minute to report to the Lunch Bunch my situation. Received call at 4:30 p.m., it was my starter and could be fixed to the tune of $449. (including tow) Drank that night.

 Saturday – Up early, waiting for someone to come get me to start taking stuff.  Managed a freaked out dog in spare time.  Back and forth to apartment several times before A and  the fabulous crew came with U-Haul to load me up. Carried many heavy things down two flights of stairs. Carried more heavy things up into the house.

Snarfed down a few slices of Papa John’s pizza and it was the best thing I had ever tasted. Drank a few beers.

Watched guys try to assemble our beds. Unpacked kitchen. Drank a few more beers. Moved boxes around. Stood and looked at the mess for a while. Drank a few more beers.

Ordered Chinese food. Ate like it was the best thing ever. Looked at blank T.V. because we had no cable. Fell into bed by 10 p.m.

 Sunday – Woke up at 10 a.m. Wanted coffee but had none. Cuddled with stressed out doggy only to find FLEAS!

Freaked out. Kicked dog off bed.

Called vet and was told to bathe her in Dawn soap and spray house. Sent A  to the store and unpacked closet while I waited. Then decided that a walk wouldn’t hurt, so checked out the new ‘hood. Returned and gave poor stressed doggy a bath in our new Jacuzzi bathtub. She was not happy. Fleas went down the drain. Sprayed all furniture. Washed tub. 

Hit up Jimmy John’s for sammies. Ate them like they were the best thing ever. Unpacked the closet some more and made up guest bed. Drank a few beers. Finished up the kitchen. Drank a few more beers.

A’s parents and brother and wife stopped by. Visited with them. Ate leftover Chinese food and konked out.

The end.

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Speed Bump

I had my court date for my speeding ticket this evening. I’ve never actually been to court before, which as a former legal news reporter seems a little odd. But it’s true. I just covered appellate cases and large verdicts after they were handed down.

But I procrastinated mailing in my ticket (truth – I really didn’t want the city government to have my money until they had to.)  Also, I had called my insurance agent to find out if this ticket would cause a ding on my record. Because I told him I was going 42 in a 35, he said I should be ok. No need to double the fine.  I figured I would just show up and pay the flat fee and be done with it.

And well, let’s just say that didn’t happen.

What did happen was I got in my car, turned the ignition and nothing happened.

Nothing as in my frickin’ car was dead as a doornail. Oh, but the AC and radio would turn on (as if bad mix radio and a blast of cold air would help me get to court on time.) The hope that it was just my battery and it would all be ok with a jump fizzled just as soon as I heard Katie Perry whine about being hung over in Vegas.  Stupid girl, you put your money where your mouth is and shut up! I thought as I yanked the key out of my ignition.

Luckily I have the most amazing fiance ever who came and got me in time to take me to my court date. Awww, isn’t that romantic?

Judge or prosecutor?

Um, how about car mechanic, I thought when the clerk asked me my plan of action.  I mean really, how can they make me pay this when it’s very clear I’m not going to be speeding anywhere soon. I don’t even run a sub 10 minute mile!

The longer we sat there (and it took a while) the more I started to get mad that the city of Mission was taking my money – money I would now need to get my car towed and probably  a new starter put in my car.

I mean it’s not like I was going very fast. And it was down a big hill. And I was on the phone with someone very important at the time telling him very important things, I’m sure.

I mean what if I just started charging people money for breaking my rules?  Take  the  tourists on the Plaza who walk in big groups on the sidewalk when I’m trying to run with Gertie. I politely tell them I am coming up behind them on their left and they suddenly act like they don’t know how to walk. Some move to the right some to the left and some just freeze, so then we have to dodge them (It’s usually up a hill) while Gertie is trying to lick their children and snag a belly rub.  I think they should have to pay up.

I know the city has expenses, but so do I. I have some very important car maintenance issues to tend to, a future move to fund and a wedding.

Finally it was my turn and the prosecutor (who looked so young that I might have been his babysitter in high school) asked me if I wanted to double up to get it off my record.

No, I said arrogantly. I wasn’t doing more than 10 miles over so it won’t hurt my insurance.

But it says here you were doing 42 in a 30.

Let me see that!  I fished my copy of the ticket out of my huge handbag and tried to prove the kid wrong. The fiance was peering over my shoulder.

Yup, babe – 42 in a 30, he said as he pointed to the manwriting on the document.There was no way I could double it without knowing what my car was going to cost me.

Before I knew it, the fiance had his credit card out and the fine had been doubled to no more than a $220 parking violation.

Humbled, carless and broker than I yet know, I won’t be speeding anytime soon.

But I will probably run down the aisle. (If I can make it to the church.)

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Blame it on the dog

Now I know what you are saying. (Especially if you’ve met Gertie)

What did Gertie do to deserve this post?

We’ll get to that.

First, have you ever had a day when you start off on top of the world, then the stress builds, and just when you think  you may be able to conquer stress event #1, stress event #2 hits you like a thousand tons of rocks? Well if not, you’ve clearly never tried to plan a wedding on a budget. Or heck, a wedding at all.

So, after that whole drama (still pending, but pushed off to the side now. Stay tuned to Quirky Wedding for updates and details) the fiance and I thought we should get our minds off it and go grab a drink and something to eat.

We waited for the rain to die off.

And on the way out of the fiance’s uber steep driveway which has concrete barriers along the side, his car scraped the side and his lower fender partially fell off and was dragging on the street.

When he went inside to get his toolkit to try to remove it, he heard Gertie was barking. (Something she rarely does.) It was a steady woof. woof. woof. Logically, he figured she had to go out. Nope. Because I took her out and brought her back in and she was still barking when he returned to put back the tool kit. Apparently, it was from the stress of being left alone with the storms. (She had exhibited signs of stress earlier in the evening)  There was no way we could leave her in that state, considering G-man was home and, well that’s plain maddening.

So here I am drinking a glass of wine and eating a bowl of ramen noodles.

It is totally the dog’s fault. All of it.

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It would be on a Monday

UGHHHHHH…..bad Monday.

I’m not even going to begin to tell you all of it, but let’s just say I had to visit Ernie today and it was not pretty. 

And then there was some other stuff that sucked.

So I went for a run, which I made myself do, because I really just wanted to skip the run and jump straight into the bubble bath with the bottle, I mean glass, of wine. But I ran, and I wasn’t feeling like it, but I did it. As I was trotting along, Gertie at my side, I felt an odd sensation around my waist. It confused me, until I realized what it was.

It was my shorts. 

They were well below my butt by the time I realized my drawstring had completely failed me. As in malfunctioned. As in it was completely broken. (It has a plastic device that is supposed to lock the string into place, but that piece apparently is shot because it stopped locking and started sliding.)

And there was a runner behind me.

And apparently a biker too, because it went flying by and suddenly Gertie jumped in front of me, which she does when she’s terrified. 

Then I tripped over her, while trying to hold onto my shorts. And her. And not fall.

To top off this fabulous day, I learned, according to a friend’s facebook status that  Jesus is returning soon. (I went to an Christian college, so many of my friends are conservative.) 

If I could have my say in this matter, I would really rather Jesus return on Friday night when I have had a good day and we can have a beer together and laugh about this awful Monday.

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eeeeeeeeeeeeee Part III

It came back.

The noise.

So it’s probably my pulley. And I’m going to have to go see Ernie on Monday.

Damn.

In other news, pretty big weekend coming up. The boyfriend and I are attending a pirate party (yar) tonight. It’s his big debut with this group of friends. I’m excited. Then tomorrow night we are going to see the Red Elvises in concert.

And Sunday.

Justin and Stephanie are going to attempt our own experiment to save the economy. Actually, it’s more like an experiment to pad our own checking accounts and pay for tickets to this, in the process. But we feel the U.S. Government might be able to learn a little something from our results.

Stay tuned for the full report.

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Update on eeeeeeeeee

At lunch I went home to let Gertie out . (I’m meeting the dog sitter extroidainaire — Ging– and J for late birthday Margaritas after work!!!)

So Gertie is doing her thing, which is stalling out for the most possible walk before she does her business. But I have outsmarted her. Mwahahaha. I have found a special place even she can’t resist.

This place requires that I walk by the office to get back home. The maintenance man (Scott, if you are reading –the one you think is hot.) comes out and asks me if I’m going straight to my car after my walk.

First thought: Oh crap. Did I park in someone else’s spot? (Why do I always think I’m in trouble?!)

Me: Um, yeah.

MM: Cool, well I’ll come out and fix your belt. Meet you at your car.

Me: Stuttering a little. Um, awesome!?

Sure enough, he sprayed some stuff on it and squeaking stopped.

Have I mentioned how much I love my apartment?

Yah, sorry Ernie. No dollars for you.

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