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?
Showing posts with label car fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label car fun. Show all posts
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I can't feel my teeth
Or my lips. Or the left side of my tongue. No, I am not drunk. And no I did not have a stroke. I am paying the price for having, as my grandfather called them, Bad Irish Teeth. I had to get a filling in one of my back teeth this morning. First one in four years, I might add. So for a procedure that took all of twenty minutes, my mouth is numb for three or four hours. Sweet. I get to drink my lunch from a straw! When this shit wears off my jaw will be sore where the dentist shot me full of Novocaine and I'll probably have gnawed bits of the inside of my cheek off.
On the plus side, if Alastair takes a whack at my face, I won't feel a thing.
Election day has come and gone, thank God. I swear I got no fewer than seven recorded phone calls pitching me one candidate or another. All on election day. The brouhaha over the congressional shift in power has me scratching my head. C'mon folks: meet the new boss; same as the old boss. It's becoming difficult, beyond the rhetoric, to distinguish one party from the other. Both are dedicated to appeasing the interest of major contributors and special interest groups that support them, and they engage in pork barrel politics to protect their own incumbancy. Personally, I just wish the governement would back the f*ck up and stop wasting all the tax dollars it siphons off of my family on a regular basis. But then that's just the anarchist/libertarian in me.
Last weekend was a great time with the Amos Family, as well as proof positive that we couldn't have hatched a baby better suited to us. Friday, Adrian took off from work, and capitalizing on the fantastic weather, we got together a picnic lunch and packed up the Little Man for an afternoon at Maymont. I knew how much he adores animals, especially kitties, but I was not prepared for how freaking excited he would be. Starting in the nature center, we took Alastair past the tanks of turtles and crazy-huge fish. He squealed and pumped his legs in joy. Out at the petting farm, he was totally enthralled with a huge bull, goats, sheep, chickens, and pigs. He threw out his arms trying to hug every creature within three feet of him. Man, he is a trip. Hopefully, he continue to stay an animal lover as he grows up. The jaunt was so exhausting he crashed almost immediately upon getting into the car and snoozed for almost three hours.
Sunday, we all piled into the MINI to participate in MINIs on a Ferry down at Jamestown. For those of you here in Central VA know that the weather on Sunday was total shite. Chilly temps, high winds, soaking rains. Fun times. The event was kind of crazy and a somewhat poorly planned, and Little A was in and out of the car several times facing piss poor weather conditions. He slept through the ferry ride (his first!) and tolerated his snack being fed to him in transit. But he was an absolute doll. Never once fussed (except for having his diaper changed in a public restroom which he hates) or got cranky, napping very well in the car coming home. Plus, he charmed the whole table at the Virginia Diner (Yum, tasty Southern country cooking!), especially with a demonstration of Fists of Fury. This kid was total made for Adrian and I: laid-back, sweet, friendly and most importantly, tolerate of his parents' bizzare life.
Off to find some food to eat that requires minimal chewing.
On the plus side, if Alastair takes a whack at my face, I won't feel a thing.
Election day has come and gone, thank God. I swear I got no fewer than seven recorded phone calls pitching me one candidate or another. All on election day. The brouhaha over the congressional shift in power has me scratching my head. C'mon folks: meet the new boss; same as the old boss. It's becoming difficult, beyond the rhetoric, to distinguish one party from the other. Both are dedicated to appeasing the interest of major contributors and special interest groups that support them, and they engage in pork barrel politics to protect their own incumbancy. Personally, I just wish the governement would back the f*ck up and stop wasting all the tax dollars it siphons off of my family on a regular basis. But then that's just the anarchist/libertarian in me.
Last weekend was a great time with the Amos Family, as well as proof positive that we couldn't have hatched a baby better suited to us. Friday, Adrian took off from work, and capitalizing on the fantastic weather, we got together a picnic lunch and packed up the Little Man for an afternoon at Maymont. I knew how much he adores animals, especially kitties, but I was not prepared for how freaking excited he would be. Starting in the nature center, we took Alastair past the tanks of turtles and crazy-huge fish. He squealed and pumped his legs in joy. Out at the petting farm, he was totally enthralled with a huge bull, goats, sheep, chickens, and pigs. He threw out his arms trying to hug every creature within three feet of him. Man, he is a trip. Hopefully, he continue to stay an animal lover as he grows up. The jaunt was so exhausting he crashed almost immediately upon getting into the car and snoozed for almost three hours.
Sunday, we all piled into the MINI to participate in MINIs on a Ferry down at Jamestown. For those of you here in Central VA know that the weather on Sunday was total shite. Chilly temps, high winds, soaking rains. Fun times. The event was kind of crazy and a somewhat poorly planned, and Little A was in and out of the car several times facing piss poor weather conditions. He slept through the ferry ride (his first!) and tolerated his snack being fed to him in transit. But he was an absolute doll. Never once fussed (except for having his diaper changed in a public restroom which he hates) or got cranky, napping very well in the car coming home. Plus, he charmed the whole table at the Virginia Diner (Yum, tasty Southern country cooking!), especially with a demonstration of Fists of Fury. This kid was total made for Adrian and I: laid-back, sweet, friendly and most importantly, tolerate of his parents' bizzare life.
Off to find some food to eat that requires minimal chewing.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Remember, Remember the Fifth of November
Okay, so it's actually the sixth today. We forgot to build a bonfire last night in honor of Guy Fawkes Day, but what the hell. We're American.
I've had a crazy afternoon today. For those who don't know, I am well on my way to becoming The Cliche Mom. My parents, out of supreme kindness, gave me their 2006 Honda CRV. Correction: Sold it to me for the low, low price of $1. Apparently my dad has been worried about the safety of my Beetle, even though I've been driving SpaceMobile for almost 8 years with nary a comment. Poof. My kid comes a long and suddenly I'm piloting a DeathMobile. However, do not discern any lack of gratitude in that statement; I love my new wheels. At the least, I can get Little A in and out of the vehicle without performing slow yoga-like moves.
Adrian came home early today to watch the baby so I could go over to DMV and do the whole tax, title, and tags thing. We figured it would take me an hour maybe an hour and a half. I left the house at around 1:30. Got over to the DMV (about 10 minutes from my house) and actually got to a window in about five minutes. Once at the window, the clerk discovered that my mom's signature was missing from the title (both my parents were listed). He apologized profusely but explained he needed both signatures. He tells me if I can come back before closing I wouldn't have to re-queue just return to his window and he'd finish the transaction. No sweat, I say, and dash off to my mom's school which is only about 15 minutes up the road. It's after 2 p.m. by the time I get to her school. Kids are everywhere getting into cars and onto the bus. I dash into the office, get my mom's signature, she apologizes for the oversight, and I dash off.
Back at DMV. It's now about 2:30. After my clerk waits on a particularly chatty redneck senior citizen, he sees me. We resume the process. Everything's going fine. Then the "Uh-oh." Apparently, because the CRV is less than five years old, I need a signed, notarized statement referring to the selling price. That's right, a notarized statement. Plus, because both my and Adrian's names will be on the title I have to get him to sign the statement too. Of course, we both need to be present before the notary. Dammit. I remain calm. This is not the clerk's fault, but rather the demonic machinations of an over-beauracratic government out to stifle the little man. In my car, I call Adrian and using a rather excited tone of voice and lots of profanities, relate the situation to him.
Fortunately, my father-in-law happened to be at our house to get some car work done, so he stays to keep an eye on sleeping Little A. I spirit Adrian over to our credit union (luckily again, it is close by). The neighbors were mighty impressed when I put SpaceMobile into hyperdrive right out of the driveway.
Get to the credit union. Paperwork signed and notarized. Adrian deposited back in front of the house. Back to DMV. It's 3:20 p.m. It's not a long wait to see my new best friend at DMV (His nameplate reads M. Maxey. If you're at the Brook Road DMV, ask for him and tell him Amanda sent you.). He goes through the hoops, produces my new plates and registration. There's a gaffe on the first title he prints, so he has to print that twice. I pay my $75. It's about 3:40 when I leave DMV and close to 4 when I finally roll home.
An hour, my ass.
Needless to say, I required an order of chicken tikka masaala after all that craziness.
Random Tangent:
I painted my fingernails a bluish black for Halloween. Now they are stained yellow. Any suggestions on how to get rid of that?
I've had a crazy afternoon today. For those who don't know, I am well on my way to becoming The Cliche Mom. My parents, out of supreme kindness, gave me their 2006 Honda CRV. Correction: Sold it to me for the low, low price of $1. Apparently my dad has been worried about the safety of my Beetle, even though I've been driving SpaceMobile for almost 8 years with nary a comment. Poof. My kid comes a long and suddenly I'm piloting a DeathMobile. However, do not discern any lack of gratitude in that statement; I love my new wheels. At the least, I can get Little A in and out of the vehicle without performing slow yoga-like moves.
Adrian came home early today to watch the baby so I could go over to DMV and do the whole tax, title, and tags thing. We figured it would take me an hour maybe an hour and a half. I left the house at around 1:30. Got over to the DMV (about 10 minutes from my house) and actually got to a window in about five minutes. Once at the window, the clerk discovered that my mom's signature was missing from the title (both my parents were listed). He apologized profusely but explained he needed both signatures. He tells me if I can come back before closing I wouldn't have to re-queue just return to his window and he'd finish the transaction. No sweat, I say, and dash off to my mom's school which is only about 15 minutes up the road. It's after 2 p.m. by the time I get to her school. Kids are everywhere getting into cars and onto the bus. I dash into the office, get my mom's signature, she apologizes for the oversight, and I dash off.
Back at DMV. It's now about 2:30. After my clerk waits on a particularly chatty redneck senior citizen, he sees me. We resume the process. Everything's going fine. Then the "Uh-oh." Apparently, because the CRV is less than five years old, I need a signed, notarized statement referring to the selling price. That's right, a notarized statement. Plus, because both my and Adrian's names will be on the title I have to get him to sign the statement too. Of course, we both need to be present before the notary. Dammit. I remain calm. This is not the clerk's fault, but rather the demonic machinations of an over-beauracratic government out to stifle the little man. In my car, I call Adrian and using a rather excited tone of voice and lots of profanities, relate the situation to him.
Fortunately, my father-in-law happened to be at our house to get some car work done, so he stays to keep an eye on sleeping Little A. I spirit Adrian over to our credit union (luckily again, it is close by). The neighbors were mighty impressed when I put SpaceMobile into hyperdrive right out of the driveway.
Get to the credit union. Paperwork signed and notarized. Adrian deposited back in front of the house. Back to DMV. It's 3:20 p.m. It's not a long wait to see my new best friend at DMV (His nameplate reads M. Maxey. If you're at the Brook Road DMV, ask for him and tell him Amanda sent you.). He goes through the hoops, produces my new plates and registration. There's a gaffe on the first title he prints, so he has to print that twice. I pay my $75. It's about 3:40 when I leave DMV and close to 4 when I finally roll home.
An hour, my ass.
Needless to say, I required an order of chicken tikka masaala after all that craziness.
Random Tangent:
I painted my fingernails a bluish black for Halloween. Now they are stained yellow. Any suggestions on how to get rid of that?
Friday, August 18, 2006
Heute ist Freitag
As I type my lurverly new countertop is being installed by our friend Chris S. and my husband. Now the cabinets look cruddy in comparison. It’s a vicious cycle, home improvement.
I see washed up child stars.
My poor SpaceMobile is going to need a visit to the MotherShip for some repairs. She’s lost a hubcap and one of the rear brake lights is blown. Now I just have to decide if I want spend a lot of money and get brand new wheels or spend less dough by getting just a replacement hubcap. I need to make the call soon because that poor naked wheel looks sad.
Adrian and I called it: Benji won “So You Think You Can Dance” even though Travis was clearly the better dancer. I’m really going to miss that show. It was television’s version of fried Oreos: sweet and tasty with no nutritional value whatsoever.
My pick for the top three on Project Runway: Jeffery (He’s so punk rock.), Michael (He’s so obviously talented. Duh. He’s won two challenges already.), and Uli (Everything she designs is wearable and pretty in a very fun way.). Kayne is still my favorite. He totally cracked me up this week by coming out and admitting his dress looked like crap. Most of the other designers crow about how great their pieces are even when they are dooky, like Nutwad Vincent who really needs to get “auf’d” like now.
I see washed up child stars.
My poor SpaceMobile is going to need a visit to the MotherShip for some repairs. She’s lost a hubcap and one of the rear brake lights is blown. Now I just have to decide if I want spend a lot of money and get brand new wheels or spend less dough by getting just a replacement hubcap. I need to make the call soon because that poor naked wheel looks sad.
Adrian and I called it: Benji won “So You Think You Can Dance” even though Travis was clearly the better dancer. I’m really going to miss that show. It was television’s version of fried Oreos: sweet and tasty with no nutritional value whatsoever.
My pick for the top three on Project Runway: Jeffery (He’s so punk rock.), Michael (He’s so obviously talented. Duh. He’s won two challenges already.), and Uli (Everything she designs is wearable and pretty in a very fun way.). Kayne is still my favorite. He totally cracked me up this week by coming out and admitting his dress looked like crap. Most of the other designers crow about how great their pieces are even when they are dooky, like Nutwad Vincent who really needs to get “auf’d” like now.
Monday, July 24, 2006
First Week of Freedom
While so much has happened over this last week, I don't have a ton of time to type. Alastair is napping right now, and I like to try and get as much done in those few hours when he is snoozing as possible.
So far I am enjoying being home to focus on my boy and just live life. He is really at that exciting stage where milestones seem to be reached on a daily basis. Alastair is discovering so much about himself and the world around him. He can sit on his own for longer stretches each day. His new favorite activity is rolling over onto his tummy, only he hasn't quite mastered the rolling back, so after a while on the tummy he gets pissed. We've been feeding Alastair rice cereal for a few weeks now, and Saturday on his six-month birthday, he had his first real food: bananas! He loved them, of course, being the child of semi-foodie parents.
Alastair has also discovered his genitals. Sigh. Makes for interesting diaper changes and bath times.
Thursday, Alastair worked with his mommy on his first paying job as an extra in a WIC instructional video. The lights, cameras, and swirl of people totally enthralled him. Do I have a potential movie star on my hands?
This weekend, he spent his first overnight without Mommy and Daddy. It was probably more traumatic for his parents than him. However, the fact that Adrian almost killed me in the Miata distracted me momentarily from missing my child. At least until I realized I didn't want to orphan my son at such a young age.
I liked The Lady in the Water. Not M.Night's best movie (which is probably Signs), but touching and funny nonetheless.
What the fuck is going on in Lebanon? Why do I not understand the unrelenting need amongst the people in the Middle East to fight? Is the heat and sand making them perpetually cranky?
Most days, since it pretty freaking warm and I don't like carting my kid out in the sweltering sun, I struggle not to have the TV on constantly. You see, to catch the World Cup, we revoked our semi-Amish status and got The Cable back a few months ago. Our intention was to cancel it after the World Cup ended. Then I discovered Project Runway and the Stephen King mini-series. Damn The Cable.
I do believe I hear Alastair rousing. He's probably rolled up onto his tummy and is about to get crabby.
No, I do not miss my old job.
So far I am enjoying being home to focus on my boy and just live life. He is really at that exciting stage where milestones seem to be reached on a daily basis. Alastair is discovering so much about himself and the world around him. He can sit on his own for longer stretches each day. His new favorite activity is rolling over onto his tummy, only he hasn't quite mastered the rolling back, so after a while on the tummy he gets pissed. We've been feeding Alastair rice cereal for a few weeks now, and Saturday on his six-month birthday, he had his first real food: bananas! He loved them, of course, being the child of semi-foodie parents.
Alastair has also discovered his genitals. Sigh. Makes for interesting diaper changes and bath times.
Thursday, Alastair worked with his mommy on his first paying job as an extra in a WIC instructional video. The lights, cameras, and swirl of people totally enthralled him. Do I have a potential movie star on my hands?
This weekend, he spent his first overnight without Mommy and Daddy. It was probably more traumatic for his parents than him. However, the fact that Adrian almost killed me in the Miata distracted me momentarily from missing my child. At least until I realized I didn't want to orphan my son at such a young age.
I liked The Lady in the Water. Not M.Night's best movie (which is probably Signs), but touching and funny nonetheless.
What the fuck is going on in Lebanon? Why do I not understand the unrelenting need amongst the people in the Middle East to fight? Is the heat and sand making them perpetually cranky?
Most days, since it pretty freaking warm and I don't like carting my kid out in the sweltering sun, I struggle not to have the TV on constantly. You see, to catch the World Cup, we revoked our semi-Amish status and got The Cable back a few months ago. Our intention was to cancel it after the World Cup ended. Then I discovered Project Runway and the Stephen King mini-series. Damn The Cable.
I do believe I hear Alastair rousing. He's probably rolled up onto his tummy and is about to get crabby.
No, I do not miss my old job.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Save All Your Food Stamps, Burning Down the Trailer Park
It's amazing my ability to recall nearly all the words to Beck's "Loser". Or the words to The Jetson's theme song. Ask me how to calculate the circumfrence of a circle or the square root of something, and my head will probably pop off.
So if we do not study and remember history, we are doomed to repeat it. Frightening how little we as a society have changed in a hundred years.
This evening I start my slow return to the academic life. It's only one class a week, but after a near 10-year absence from academia, I gotta ease back into this thing. Perhaps begins also my gradual ascent out of Corporate Hell. One can only hope.
I spent several hours on Sunday getting a sunburn and watching my husband drive manically around a bunch of cones in the Shriner's parking lot. Believe it or not, it was fun. It was like driver's ed on amphetimines. Good stuff.
So if we do not study and remember history, we are doomed to repeat it. Frightening how little we as a society have changed in a hundred years.
This evening I start my slow return to the academic life. It's only one class a week, but after a near 10-year absence from academia, I gotta ease back into this thing. Perhaps begins also my gradual ascent out of Corporate Hell. One can only hope.
I spent several hours on Sunday getting a sunburn and watching my husband drive manically around a bunch of cones in the Shriner's parking lot. Believe it or not, it was fun. It was like driver's ed on amphetimines. Good stuff.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
My SpaceMobile
On the drive to work today, my faithful intergalactic steed SpaceMobile crossed the 50,000 mile mark. I've been captain of SpaceMobile for almost 6 years now, so it's pretty obvious that my daily commute's not tremendously long. SpaceMobile is the first new car I ever bought way back in 1999. Cars never really used to interest me all that much. I probably would have limped along for another few years in Chinquita, my big ole boat of a Volvo with a leaky A/C, had VW not introduced the New Beetle. The first time I saw the "Reverse Engineered from UFOs" commercial backed by the thumping goodness of Fluke I knew I had to have me one.
Despite her seemingly low mileage, SpaceMobile has gotten around. Since taking the helm, I have steered her through the following states: Virginia (and all over! From the coast to the far southwestern border), West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland, D.C., North Carolina, Kentucky, Indiana, Ohio, and Illinois. Her favorite drives have been through the mountains of North Carolina, on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the rolling hills of Kentucky. She also highly recommends the Ohio Turnpike for it's smooth ride, lack of menacing semi's, and well-maintained pit stops. Her least favorite excursions have been on the frightening, twisting West Virginia turnpike and basically anywhere in state of Pennsylvania where the Department of Transportation is run by baboons.
SpaceMobile has done me very well, and I look forward to the next 50,000 miles with her. Despite her pesky airbag light issue and occasional hiccup, she's been a great traveling companion through the galaxies. The New Beetle may not be the novelty it was when I first bought her, but the little bubble dome I spot across the parking lot will always make me smile.
Despite her seemingly low mileage, SpaceMobile has gotten around. Since taking the helm, I have steered her through the following states: Virginia (and all over! From the coast to the far southwestern border), West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland, D.C., North Carolina, Kentucky, Indiana, Ohio, and Illinois. Her favorite drives have been through the mountains of North Carolina, on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the rolling hills of Kentucky. She also highly recommends the Ohio Turnpike for it's smooth ride, lack of menacing semi's, and well-maintained pit stops. Her least favorite excursions have been on the frightening, twisting West Virginia turnpike and basically anywhere in state of Pennsylvania where the Department of Transportation is run by baboons.
SpaceMobile has done me very well, and I look forward to the next 50,000 miles with her. Despite her pesky airbag light issue and occasional hiccup, she's been a great traveling companion through the galaxies. The New Beetle may not be the novelty it was when I first bought her, but the little bubble dome I spot across the parking lot will always make me smile.
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