Thursday, June 20, 2013

Her Name is Sasha

I wrote about my beloved Nellie Mae last June.  In April, she started spewing fluid again and her engine kept getting hot.  I figured the radiator had cracked again but I was holding out until June to get her fixed because I know she needed another overhaul.

Then work blew up in my face (mountains of projects and deadlines) on top of organizing a rather large industry conference on top of strategic planning sessions for my professional organization on top of organizing a smaller conference for my company on top of ....

You see where this is going.

I was at my wits end.  I don't handle stress well and one more thing was going to send me over the edge.

One night, after grabbing a few drinks with my co-workers, I made my way home.  Three miles from home Nellie Mae started a knocking noise from the front tire.  I figured it was probably road debris that was caught underneath and I would dispose of it once I got home.

I got home and there was no debris.  I. FLIPPED. MY. LID!

I stormed into the house and made myself a martini.  Then I went online and started snooping around for new cars.  Then I poured myself another (more delicious than the first) martini.  Then I had the GREAT idea of scheduling a test drive for a 2007 Saturn Sky for the next morning.  I might point out that at this point of the night EVERYTHING is a great idea.

I woke up the next morning realizing that NOTHING is a great idea with a couple of martinis and stress-induced Internet window shopping.  By the time I got to my computer to see the damage I had done I had an email from the dealership saying "Come on by for the test drive!"

And I felt bad!  Not just hungover bad but I felt bad because I had wasted someone's time and they were expecting me in 30 minutes to test a car.  Ugh!  I went and thought, "I'll just drive it but I won't buy it."

I drove it.  And then I drove it some more.  Then I put the top down on the convertible.  Sigh.

I had to buy it.  I sad goodbye to Nellie Mae.  She was a wonderful SUV but her time was up.  It was bittersweet because I have ALWAYS wanted a Saturn Sky.  They were only made from 2007-2009 and I could probably take the engine apart and put it back together with my eyes closed based on all the research I had done on the car over the years.

Her name is Sasha and she is fierce.
Hard to tell but she is midnight blue.  Not hard to tell, she can go freakishly fast.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

A Bird for the Birds

It has been ages ... AGES ... since I have stepped foot near my blog.  Things have been crazy in my life and I don't adjust to drastic changes well.  For example, I traded in Nellie Mae (2001 Nissa Xterra) for Sasha (2007 Saturn Sky).  Sasha is fun to drive and totally impractical for hauling anything larger than my purse.  Why did I do this?  I got pissy about something at work.  I might have also had a few martinis when I was Internet window shopping for cars but I was one too many martinis in because of changes at work.

Changes at work led to martinis which led to buying a 2-seater convertible.  Another great story of how alcohol leads me to quick decisions.  I'm starting to realize I have a lot of those great stories in my life.  They are all a ton of fun, too!

Moving on.

I worked from home yesterday and during a short break to go check on my backyard garden I realized that the baby eggplant that had been there in the morning was gone.  Correction, it was not gone.  It was on the patio table.  With peck marks on it.

DAMN BIRDS!!!

I've had several baby eggplants over the past few weeks but none have matured and I never knew why.  Until yesterday.  I was furious at the birds in my yard.  So I shouted at them.

And it wasn't any kind of shouting.  I had transformed into Samuel L. Jackson in 'Snakes on a Plane'.

"MF birds ate my MF eggplants!"

I then proceeded to look each bird in the eye and give them the finger.  And that's when I realized I had just given the birds a bird.

And I felt ashamed.  Not that I had cursed loudly enough for my sweet, retired neighbors to hear me.  Not that I had sunk to the lowest levels of ladylike behavior.  And not because I was hating nature's creatures.

I was ashamed because I have become THAT person.  Everyone has that one (or several) neighbor who is just plain crazy and irrational.  Birds who eat my eggplants have figured out the way to make me THAT person.

Well played, birds.  Well played.