After running on the machine for 40 minutes, I probably should shower. But instead I am sweating on my desk chair and blogging because my husband's at work. I also really need to write Little A's birthday Thank You's. But I'm lazy.
Initial nay saying aside, I am now fully addicted to MySpace. It helps that I uncovered several stellar college friends with whom I have not spoken since graduation. I've been having particular fun with my friend Jon, the erstwhile Fuckhead, ragging on who we used to be back in our less-than-halcyon days in college.
Tuesday, I sold SpaceMobile. She zoomed off into other adventures, to be helmed by another pilot, in a galaxy known as Blacksburg. I felt a little pang of sadness and almost shed a tear as I watched her taillights fade into the distance. She was the first car I ever bought all on my own. She was an extension of my personality, an outward representation of who I am like my tattoos, clothing, or jewelry. With SpaceMobile gone, I feel like yet another part of pre-baby Amanda has died. Adrian suggested having a VolksWake this weekend to include getting smashed on vodka-and-tonics-with-extra-lime (My drink of choice when I first bought SpaceMobile.). Back in the summer of 2005, I wrote this entry as a tribute to SpaceMobile when she crossed 50,000 miles. I think it's a fitting way to sign off on our relationship.
Now I drive a very functional but highly cliche CRV. Sigh. Next thing you know I'll be hosting playdates and carpooling to the soccer game. Shudder.
Finally, if Abigail Breslin's character in Little Miss Sunshine was the perfect mirror for me as a little girl, then Tina Fey's character on 30 Rock is so my doppelganger now.
And how is it that Zack Braff is a romantic leading man? He is seriously goofy looking. A female counterpart in the appearance department would get stuck in the crazy/retard/ugly friend roles. Zack Braff on the other hand woos Natalie Portman and Rachel Bilson. WTF?