That's why they call them business socks, oooh*
Well, my hooptie is thismuchcloser to becoming junkyard scrap. Lately it's been doing this thing where it will shudder violently if I'm idling in drive or reverse, and it will stutter and stammer and act like a prissy toddler that doesn't want to do what I'm telling it if I'm driving and trying to accelerate the least little bit.
The TRAC OFF and SERVICE ENGINE SOON lights have been blinking in a display of holiday festiveness. I didn't know if the damn thing was going to get me from Memphis to Saltillo, but it did. And this afternoon I dropped it off at a mechanic in Savannah, who's keeping it overnight.
I know nothing about cars but I suspect it's either a transmission problem or fuel filter/injector issue.
Obviously I'd prefer it to be a fuel filter problem (as in, "Here's a new fuel filter; you're good to go, little lady!") but I suspect it will be whatever could possibly be the most expensive disorder on the menu. Mmmmmm, love that new transmission smell.
While in Savannah, I got a wild hair up my ass and coaxed Phil to drive me to Wal-Mart. I'm not sure why I'm occasionally hit with these urges to be COMPLETELY EFFING MENTAL but I believe I lasted all of five minutes inside there before crying uncle and demanding that we leave. And it wasn't really even all that crowded. It's just that it's Wal-Mart ... in Savannah ... a place I very much do not like to spend lots of time. A place teeming with that uneasy sense that you vaguely know every person you see, even if you don't recognize them. Or that, if you do, you've got to stop and talk. My dual nature (total asshole vs. polite country girl) rips my innards to shreds in such situations. I think the whole thing gave me indigestion.
We left and drove around Savannah to look at all the houses we made out in when we were kids. That was kind of fun. And we marveled at all the broke-ass meth lab houses and how some parts of Savannah look so, so shitty. And then we picked up Phil's mom and took her out to eat at Uptown, which has apparently changed owners but still serves up yummy chicken salad (albeit using a slightly different recipe). And I'll be damned if I didn't have a delicious Riesling there too -- a steal at $6 a glass! Made my car problems seem oh so distant.
Tomorrow morning I have to get up and check on my ride to make sure it will be functional by the time I need to leave for work (noon). Hopefully they will have fixed it. Otherwise, I'ma park my ass at Uptown and keep drinking. It will be one of those days.
*This title has nothing to do with the post. I've just been watching my new Flight of the Conchords DVD and needed to acknowledge that my obsession has been rekindled.
The TRAC OFF and SERVICE ENGINE SOON lights have been blinking in a display of holiday festiveness. I didn't know if the damn thing was going to get me from Memphis to Saltillo, but it did. And this afternoon I dropped it off at a mechanic in Savannah, who's keeping it overnight.
I know nothing about cars but I suspect it's either a transmission problem or fuel filter/injector issue.
Obviously I'd prefer it to be a fuel filter problem (as in, "Here's a new fuel filter; you're good to go, little lady!") but I suspect it will be whatever could possibly be the most expensive disorder on the menu. Mmmmmm, love that new transmission smell.
While in Savannah, I got a wild hair up my ass and coaxed Phil to drive me to Wal-Mart. I'm not sure why I'm occasionally hit with these urges to be COMPLETELY EFFING MENTAL but I believe I lasted all of five minutes inside there before crying uncle and demanding that we leave. And it wasn't really even all that crowded. It's just that it's Wal-Mart ... in Savannah ... a place I very much do not like to spend lots of time. A place teeming with that uneasy sense that you vaguely know every person you see, even if you don't recognize them. Or that, if you do, you've got to stop and talk. My dual nature (total asshole vs. polite country girl) rips my innards to shreds in such situations. I think the whole thing gave me indigestion.
We left and drove around Savannah to look at all the houses we made out in when we were kids. That was kind of fun. And we marveled at all the broke-ass meth lab houses and how some parts of Savannah look so, so shitty. And then we picked up Phil's mom and took her out to eat at Uptown, which has apparently changed owners but still serves up yummy chicken salad (albeit using a slightly different recipe). And I'll be damned if I didn't have a delicious Riesling there too -- a steal at $6 a glass! Made my car problems seem oh so distant.
Tomorrow morning I have to get up and check on my ride to make sure it will be functional by the time I need to leave for work (noon). Hopefully they will have fixed it. Otherwise, I'ma park my ass at Uptown and keep drinking. It will be one of those days.
*This title has nothing to do with the post. I've just been watching my new Flight of the Conchords DVD and needed to acknowledge that my obsession has been rekindled.
Labels: Bitchy McComplainsalot, randomosity, Savannah, the car, Uptown, Wal-Mart
posted by theogeo | 12/27/2007 12:27:00 AM
3 Comments:
I'm pretty proud to report that I recognized that lyric. It's my favorite FotC tune. Thanks to you and Sarah for getting me into them. ;)
That sucks about your car. I'm getting a headlight short fixed and a much needed oil / air filter change. THEN I'm dropping moolah for four new winter tires. SUCK. My boss Al tells me constantly that cars are the worst investment you'll ever make. He totally nailed that one, didn't he? So have you made any decisions about which car you might get next?
Maybe your vehicular prollem is so simple that you'll feel dumb for even having it. ("You left your weedwhacker on in your trunk! D'oh!")
Here's hoping.
Mmmm, FotC. I received the first season on dvd as a Christmas present and now that I'm back home, Luke and I are gonna snuggle up in front of the tv and watch the whole damn thing. Even if I have to hog tie him.
Maybe your vehicular prollem is so simple that you'll feel dumb for even having it. ("You left your weedwhacker on in your trunk! D'oh!")
What she said :D
Story time:
A couple weeks ago, I had been wondering whatever happened to my Corsica after I bought my new car. Was it sold? Crushed? Tied to a tree and taunted and had tomatoes thrown at it? Well, I was walking out of the tanning salon, and what do I see whiz past me but a '96 white Corsica. With attitdue. I thought, "Huh" and kept going, not believing it could possibly be my ex-car. After all, I traded it in (for a few bucks)because it was falling apart. A couple days later, I was pulling up to park at my favorite Corinthian restaurant, and there she sat: Connie, in all her dinged-up glory. Saywha? I stepped closer and verified this identification by the old peeling SIMA-Norfolk sticker still stuck on her back window, and the missing strip of paint from an ill-placed Kerry/Edwards sticker that had been hastily applied and removed. It was mine, fo' sho. She was there the next several times I drove past the restaurant. I have concluded that she now belongs to an employee. Glad to know she's found new life.
Attitude and attitdue are the same thing. You can use one to substitute the other any ol' time you like.
Post a Comment
<< Home