Tag Archives: bad drivers

My One True Love

I really really love my car. It’s kind of weird to some people, and admittedly I am kind of weird in many ways, and this is one of them I suppose. Many people love their vehicles. We all laboriously choose an automobile of our very own from the millions of options and become quite emotionally involved. Everyone wants something different in a car, and for me, the Mini Cooper embodies everything I could ever ask for. No, this is not an official endorsement, or an unofficial endorsement. But seriously, they are so freaking cute!

When I began planning my great journey across the country, I contemplated road-tripping in little Rosie-Rose for about .5 seconds before I decided that was a terrible idea. The next order of business was to find someone to ship my precious from Richmond, VA to Walnut Creek, CA, which in total is somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,800 miles. NBD (Ma, NBD = no big deal). This is where knowing someone who owns a big rig would have been convenient, but unfortunately my life up to that point had not granted me the pleasure of meeting such a character. Which meant I had to enter in my info on some obscure website which apparently sent my name and number to every car-shipping broker in these United States. It is super fun to answer the phone 9 million times per day while I’m BUSY at WORK and hear this each time: “HELLO! Miss uhhh *mis-pronounce my last name terribly* I haveaquoteforyoutoshipyourMiniCooperitwillonlycostabilliondollars” *deep breath* “anddon’tlistentoanythinganyoneelsetellsyouIamtotallythebest!!” *another breath* “itincludesinsuranceandyouwon’tfindabetterpriceanywhere” and “don’thesitatebecausethispriceisonlyavailableforalimitedtime!!!” Yes that’s pretty much how they all went. One in particular, however, charmed me via telephone. Michael (real name) of shipyourcarnow.com (doesn’t even sound like a real business) was consistent/persistent/annoying in calling me just about every day, typically 2 or 3 times per day, until I acquiesced to ship my car through him. Really I think his tactic worked quite well because eventually I just got stinkin tired of him calling me. Also though, my tactic worked quite well, which was to be all hemming and hawing over the price and letting him know that I was just so stressed and busy with work and just so nervous about shipping my lovely that I was breaking out in hives every time I even thought about it! Just playing. But seriously,  I must have played the coy customer well because he ended up giving me exactly what I wanted. Which was a deal, obvs.

ANYWHOOZ. Bottom line is this: if you ever have to ship your car, you drop Miss Sassy a line first and I’ll send you the name of my trucker man who was so nice and caring for my little girl. She arrived safe and sound in just 5 days, no dings or scratches to be found.

I cannot describe accurately just how much joy that little hunk of metal brings me. It’s sort of weird and a little silly. But I can say this: it is totally worth that monthly payment when I beat everyone (other than the bajillion Porches and Lamborghinis around here) at every green light, and when I zip around slow people on the interstate, and when I take exit and on-ramps at twice the suggested speed limit. And when I see other Minis on the road and give them the peace sign, it makes me giggle when they wave back. And when I can park in the special low emissions/fuel efficient/compact vehicles only parking spots, it’s a little exciting. It is probably the best purchase I have made personally to date (I’d say my education is the best purchase, except I didn’t personally purchase it. Thanks Poppa Pants), even above all of my shoes. I know!

Something else I super love about having my super-duper love out here with me in this crazy place is my good ol’ VA personalized plates. Little Rose turns heads for numerous reasons, and I love passing people in a parking lot or somewhere and catching them looking at my plates, and then immediately looking in the car inquisitively, like, “Oh look, Jim! Someone from Virginia! What does someone from Virginia look like?!” Followed by, “Yes Sally they sure do seem to be normal looking from out there!” Which is probably followed by, “Where exactly is Virginia??” Anyway. It’s funny, and I get some good laughs. The other benefit of course is a benefit anyone with out-of-state plates can enjoy, is having an excuse when violating minor traffic laws and flailing around having no idea where you are going. You know, that person. I just smile and wave, knowing my plates are saving me. Plus the car is just so darn cute, how can anyone get mad? They can’t, of course.

So when I say my car is my one true love, that’s obviously an over-statement. I do love it, but honestly I’m hoping the position of my one true love will someday be filled by a real live man (had to mention men at least once, sorry). But Rosie does for me what no man could ever do. She brings me joy and keeps my irritation level down when I commute to and from work, or encounter idiots on the road, which is every day. Find me a man that can weave me in and out of traffic, make me happy when I’m surrounded by incompetent drivers, enable me to park in a low-emissions spot, and save me from colliding numerous times with other vehicles and inanimate objects, and I’ll gladly trade her in.

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Random Compilation of Trifeness

We now break from our regularly scheduled program of discussing men 24/7 so I can complain about bad driving and scooters on the road, and perhaps a couple other things. You never know what will come up.

Here in good old Raleigh, scooters are becoming all the rage, and not just in the metropolitan area. People out in the ‘burbs are also being responsible citizens of Earth and lowering their carbon footprint by purchasing and making scooters their number one choice for transporting themselves to and fro. It is so wonderful. I love environmental responsibility and lowering one’s carbon footprint. Woohoo. I have a low emission/fuel efficient vehicle so high five to me, also. Here’s the difference: mine goes regular speeds (and vrooms and purrs quite nicely. Thanks BMW.) and yours does not, seeming to max out at 30mph. The problem with this is that somehow, Mr. Scooter thinks it is appropriate for him (or her) to ride right in the middle of the lane, leaving a long row of crawling real vehicles following irritatingly behind. 30mph would not be a problem except that greater than 90% of roads in suburban areas have speed limits greater than 30mph, and I am very impatient and like to maximize travel efficiency, not to mention drive my car like it’s meant to be driven. I have made up my mind that next time this happens, I will, without reservation or guilt, honk my horn until he or she moves over. And if that person is upset with me, I’ll wave and smile as I drive by. Don’t drop your groceries, cupcake!

Remember in college (so long ago…) when everyone was hungover and unshowered on Saturday and/or Sunday mornings (at a minimum)? For the ladies, it was hair up, hat on, maybe a headband or bag over your head, huge tshirt and sweatpants, flip-flops or Ugg boots. For dudes it was disheveled probably greasy hair, hat, grungy tshirt from the previous night, sweatpants and those moccasin fuzzy slipper things that are super comfy. For both, it included a face depleted of all color while we slowly recover from the ridiculousness that occurred the previous evening/earlier that morning. And being seen in public like this wasn’t really a big deal because everyone else looked just as trife as you. In fact, typically if you are showered and made up prior to mid-afternoon, you are very out of place.

Last Sunday, I was reminded that things aren’t like that in the real world of real people and no college. We went to a little eatery to get some yummy lamb pitas to-go. Upon entering said eatery, I found myself wishing they delivered. Since it was close to 1pm, people were there enjoying a nice Sunday lunch. Families, a group of girlfriends, couple of old elderly couples, etc. We walk in, clad in workout shorts and tshirts, me with a headband covering as much hair as possible, Roomz clutching a bottle of Gatorade, all of us probably pale and ghastly looking. MAJOR judgement faces from the cute showered group of girls in the corner. I mean just oozing. I was THIS close to walking up to their table and saying, “So what, you’ve never been hungover before?” and maybe taking one of their french fries and walking away with a flick of my pony tail. In my head it was funny, but in real life I remained sitting down with the closest air vent blowing on my face.

It has once again been reinforced that IT is the greatest career choice in the entire world. Sarcasm alert. Last night, I had the honor and privilege of coming in to work at 2am to mess around with some servers. Too much IT speak to explain it so I won’t. All you need to know is that some work cannot be done during regular business hours, and there’s no IT fairy who magically fixes things at night. Real people stay up until 2am on a Tuesday (and not at TOTS), come to the office (which turns the a/c off at night because we are a green building…woohoo) and do work. Until 3:45am. And then come back for an 8am meeting. At least this time no one walked up to my cube this morning and said, “Gosh, Miss Sassy, you’re looking rough today!” Men in IT have such tact and know all the right things to say to really make me feel great about myself. Warm fuzzies all around!

Since this is a crazy random post (hence the title), I’ll go ahead and share this gem: I LOVE these. Like, I keep the page open all day every day and will be stalking them until they go on sale and/or I get another coupon from DSW. Trust.