For Karen
So apparently, I've neglected the legion. I know, it's true. It's true.
Things happen.
When you get married all the fun you had, all the adventures you seek, all the friends you have, they kind of vanish.
Is it worth it? Well, it should be. Otherwise, you're in for a life full of unhappiness and/or divorce.
And so far, it has been.
We've done a lot in the last year:
gone on vacation
survived a wicked spider bite
been to the ER several times
job loss
underemployment
money pains
loss of a close friend
getting closer to other friends
becoming ordained
fell in love with a pug
got another tattoo
moved. Again.
Shawn met my wacky family
the list goes on and on.
But when it comes down to it, life is too busy to be entertaining. With Shawn working all the time, and me putting out fires and marrying people while working hard and saving puppy dogs, things got out of control.
So, here we are again, and with the encouragement of my dear friend Karen, we're going to have a go at this again. I'm sure it will be mostly dog focused since that's the only thing entertaining in our lives right now, but if you don't want to read about them, then I suggest you don't.
Things happen.
When you get married all the fun you had, all the adventures you seek, all the friends you have, they kind of vanish.
Is it worth it? Well, it should be. Otherwise, you're in for a life full of unhappiness and/or divorce.
And so far, it has been.
We've done a lot in the last year:
gone on vacation
survived a wicked spider bite
been to the ER several times
job loss
underemployment
money pains
loss of a close friend
getting closer to other friends
becoming ordained
fell in love with a pug
got another tattoo
moved. Again.
Shawn met my wacky family
the list goes on and on.
But when it comes down to it, life is too busy to be entertaining. With Shawn working all the time, and me putting out fires and marrying people while working hard and saving puppy dogs, things got out of control.
So, here we are again, and with the encouragement of my dear friend Karen, we're going to have a go at this again. I'm sure it will be mostly dog focused since that's the only thing entertaining in our lives right now, but if you don't want to read about them, then I suggest you don't.
Do they only hire idiots in the NFL?
Apparently so.
And though I shouldn't take the time to correct this bafoon, "we" DO care about Pit Bulls. A lot. You should go out to Utah and see where these dogs that "we" don't care about are living now and how they're doing. They have been rehabiliated for the most part and the evil that they lived under has been removed from their souls as best it could. If "we" didn't care about them, the time and effort to save them wouldn't have been put forth.
"We" care enough to try to keep dumbasses like yourself from owning them. "We" care enough to love and train them properly so when they manage to get loose, "we" don't have to worry about them killing a miniature horse?
"We" also wouldn't have to worry about the stereotypes that you are complaining about and "we" wouldn't have to lie to keep a pit bull if morons like your buddy Michael Vick didn't torture these dogs to the point where they became evil to protect themselves. "We" don't do that to our dogs. Careless, ignorant, egotistical, and overpaid football players like you and your friend do.
"We" care for all dogs, regardless of breed.
"We", however, do not care for the likes of you.
And though I shouldn't take the time to correct this bafoon, "we" DO care about Pit Bulls. A lot. You should go out to Utah and see where these dogs that "we" don't care about are living now and how they're doing. They have been rehabiliated for the most part and the evil that they lived under has been removed from their souls as best it could. If "we" didn't care about them, the time and effort to save them wouldn't have been put forth.
"We" care enough to try to keep dumbasses like yourself from owning them. "We" care enough to love and train them properly so when they manage to get loose, "we" don't have to worry about them killing a miniature horse?
"We" also wouldn't have to worry about the stereotypes that you are complaining about and "we" wouldn't have to lie to keep a pit bull if morons like your buddy Michael Vick didn't torture these dogs to the point where they became evil to protect themselves. "We" don't do that to our dogs. Careless, ignorant, egotistical, and overpaid football players like you and your friend do.
"We" care for all dogs, regardless of breed.
"We", however, do not care for the likes of you.
Damn you Oprah
Well....you see....about a year or so ago when we were in the middle of this election mess and Oprah stepped up and backed Obama I made the bold statement never believing truly that last night would happen. I declared I would end my war on Oprah if Obama were to be elected president.
I knew that I wanted it to happen, and many others wanted to happen, but I had no idea that this country would get past many of their absurd ideals about the man with Hussein for his middle name.
Then last night, as I held back tears with three of my favorite men, and surrounded by puppy dogs ecstatic at what we were seeing and hearing....Skippy broke the news to me that I had to give up my hatred and thoughts of killing Oprah.
And so I've put up the tub of glue, decided maybe she's not so bad, and have officially ended the war that she has no idea was even started.
And now, I'm watching Oprah on TV and realizing that the "youth vote" does not include me anymore.
So I'm going to both celebrate and pout tonight and plan my hopeful trip to DC in January.
I knew that I wanted it to happen, and many others wanted to happen, but I had no idea that this country would get past many of their absurd ideals about the man with Hussein for his middle name.
Then last night, as I held back tears with three of my favorite men, and surrounded by puppy dogs ecstatic at what we were seeing and hearing....Skippy broke the news to me that I had to give up my hatred and thoughts of killing Oprah.
And so I've put up the tub of glue, decided maybe she's not so bad, and have officially ended the war that she has no idea was even started.
And now, I'm watching Oprah on TV and realizing that the "youth vote" does not include me anymore.
So I'm going to both celebrate and pout tonight and plan my hopeful trip to DC in January.
How to get your neighbor evicted in less than a week
Step one: have a relatively tame birthday party. Invite your very calm in-laws and your seven year old nephew. Let nephew stomp on stairs. Get drunk, and mention loudly to your dear friend that you can't get in trouble for being a liberal. Go to bed after puking shortly before 2 in the morning, almost two hours after all of your guests had left. On a Saturday night.
Step two: get complaint from your neighbor via the office. Have office defend you for your right to celebrate your birthday on a Saturday night, and advise said cranky ass neighbor that if he has a problem, the first step should be to consult with the neighbors. Also, office will advise you that dogs barking for less than five minutes at a time is not a "nuisance" in a dog friendly property.
Step three: wake up at 2:30 in the morning to noises that scare the life out of you. Have husband investigate, think your neighbor is being murdered, close windows, grab a knife, and consider calling the cops until you realize that your neighbor isn't yelling or screaming so he's obviously not in a confrontation with anyone other than himself. Realize after the fourth or fifth bout of banging and stomping until six in the morning he's being an asshat. Wait for husband to go to work, and continue with rounds six and seven including banging on your door and feeling as though you may be in danger.
Step four: go to office and advise them of the assumed retaliation going on next to you. Discover that he's lost his job and is home all the time, and has additionally lost his marbles. Find out that he's irrational about the accidental noises that may or may not wake him up during the day, and that he "can't sleep" even though he's not leaving the house for anything other than to go to the office to yell at them about you. Be advised that we should have called the cops, and if it happens again, to do so.
Step five: come home from work to relative peace. Go to bed, and have wall above your heard hit so hard it unplugs your alarm clock and knocks your pictures lose. Video tape it before calling 911. Call 911, wait for cops to arrive. Hear neighbor punch door before cops arrive and hear confrontation between pissed off cop and bipolar neighbor. Wait for them to leave, try to calm down to go to bed, endure more random punching of walls and stomping on stairs.
Step six: wake up to go to your apartment office and tell them about it. Wait until ten minutes after your alarm goes off and start hearing the banging once again. Get laptop with video (see below) and enough clothes to cover your bits. Plan on going to your doctor's appointment that you had before your afternoon off for your birthday after meeting the office and open door. See large burly neighbor sitting on your steps. Turn around to lock door and see large man get up in your husband's face calling him various names and making threats. Get down stairs and turn around and wait for husband hoping that the man that's in his face screaming won't push him down the stairs. Make it to bottom of stairs and start shaking and crying. Run to office and see staff, break down while telling them. Listen to them tell you about the threats he has made to them and the lease he tore up and threw at them telling them to shove it somewhere unpleasant. See them call cops. Hear that he has called cops on you for your dogs barking. Hear that he had video camera on porch to watch when we were coming and going. Tell management you won't be going to apartment until he's gone. Hear cops tell you that you have to stay and put up with him and call them. Tell them you're not taking chance on being hurt because they won't do anything. Wait for management to hear from district office. Go to doctor's appointment. Call husband when you get back to hear that neighbor has installed another video camera pointed at your door/window. Lose shit. Go BACK to office and call cops again. Wait in office wanting a shower. Have them tell you that they are evicting him and to grab shit and move into model apartment for a few days until he is gone.
Step seven: grab stuff like a refuge. Silently go into model apartment and take shower. Get ready to go eat since you have no food now, and see neighbor waiting on stairs for you. Eat, go see movie (W. was great) come back and see neighbor in odd part of parking lot not near his dwelling, and assume he's looking for your car. Shit pants and scurry into your temporary home.
Step eight: wake up, wait for husband to return from walking dogs and see man packing his shit since he was given 24 hours to vacate after his newly awarded eviction. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Talk to new neighbor and hear that she had run in with him and was told to fuck off. Wait until you don't see his car, go to office. Be told that you are to stay in place for one more day as you wait to find out if he's really gone since he did not turn in all of his keys. Figure one more night will be fine. Hear that he was just as mean and threatening to office staff when leaving and scared them even more.
Step nine: go to party, come home, wake up, move back in to apartment and turn in keys to temporary home. Hear that he called and was sickening sweet to staff once he was gone and was just mad at the fact that he was a light sleeper and couldn't sleep through the noise. The noise that we slept through every night. The people who have jobs and do not have the luxury of an entire day without neighbors or jobs to be bothered with. The noise that has not bothered anyone else, or that he ever came over and told us about. Or even wrote a letter to us about.
We found out that he was trying to get out of his lease, but didn't want to pay. I guess he found an easy way out, too bad he still is going to have to pay. Not only for the remainder of his lease, but the gashes in the wall that he left, the dirty apartment, and the fee they will surely charge for hauling off all of his crap that he left.
****The video of the bang. It's shortly after the 22 second mark:
Step two: get complaint from your neighbor via the office. Have office defend you for your right to celebrate your birthday on a Saturday night, and advise said cranky ass neighbor that if he has a problem, the first step should be to consult with the neighbors. Also, office will advise you that dogs barking for less than five minutes at a time is not a "nuisance" in a dog friendly property.
Step three: wake up at 2:30 in the morning to noises that scare the life out of you. Have husband investigate, think your neighbor is being murdered, close windows, grab a knife, and consider calling the cops until you realize that your neighbor isn't yelling or screaming so he's obviously not in a confrontation with anyone other than himself. Realize after the fourth or fifth bout of banging and stomping until six in the morning he's being an asshat. Wait for husband to go to work, and continue with rounds six and seven including banging on your door and feeling as though you may be in danger.
Step four: go to office and advise them of the assumed retaliation going on next to you. Discover that he's lost his job and is home all the time, and has additionally lost his marbles. Find out that he's irrational about the accidental noises that may or may not wake him up during the day, and that he "can't sleep" even though he's not leaving the house for anything other than to go to the office to yell at them about you. Be advised that we should have called the cops, and if it happens again, to do so.
Step five: come home from work to relative peace. Go to bed, and have wall above your heard hit so hard it unplugs your alarm clock and knocks your pictures lose. Video tape it before calling 911. Call 911, wait for cops to arrive. Hear neighbor punch door before cops arrive and hear confrontation between pissed off cop and bipolar neighbor. Wait for them to leave, try to calm down to go to bed, endure more random punching of walls and stomping on stairs.
Step six: wake up to go to your apartment office and tell them about it. Wait until ten minutes after your alarm goes off and start hearing the banging once again. Get laptop with video (see below) and enough clothes to cover your bits. Plan on going to your doctor's appointment that you had before your afternoon off for your birthday after meeting the office and open door. See large burly neighbor sitting on your steps. Turn around to lock door and see large man get up in your husband's face calling him various names and making threats. Get down stairs and turn around and wait for husband hoping that the man that's in his face screaming won't push him down the stairs. Make it to bottom of stairs and start shaking and crying. Run to office and see staff, break down while telling them. Listen to them tell you about the threats he has made to them and the lease he tore up and threw at them telling them to shove it somewhere unpleasant. See them call cops. Hear that he has called cops on you for your dogs barking. Hear that he had video camera on porch to watch when we were coming and going. Tell management you won't be going to apartment until he's gone. Hear cops tell you that you have to stay and put up with him and call them. Tell them you're not taking chance on being hurt because they won't do anything. Wait for management to hear from district office. Go to doctor's appointment. Call husband when you get back to hear that neighbor has installed another video camera pointed at your door/window. Lose shit. Go BACK to office and call cops again. Wait in office wanting a shower. Have them tell you that they are evicting him and to grab shit and move into model apartment for a few days until he is gone.
Step seven: grab stuff like a refuge. Silently go into model apartment and take shower. Get ready to go eat since you have no food now, and see neighbor waiting on stairs for you. Eat, go see movie (W. was great) come back and see neighbor in odd part of parking lot not near his dwelling, and assume he's looking for your car. Shit pants and scurry into your temporary home.
Step eight: wake up, wait for husband to return from walking dogs and see man packing his shit since he was given 24 hours to vacate after his newly awarded eviction. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Talk to new neighbor and hear that she had run in with him and was told to fuck off. Wait until you don't see his car, go to office. Be told that you are to stay in place for one more day as you wait to find out if he's really gone since he did not turn in all of his keys. Figure one more night will be fine. Hear that he was just as mean and threatening to office staff when leaving and scared them even more.
Step nine: go to party, come home, wake up, move back in to apartment and turn in keys to temporary home. Hear that he called and was sickening sweet to staff once he was gone and was just mad at the fact that he was a light sleeper and couldn't sleep through the noise. The noise that we slept through every night. The people who have jobs and do not have the luxury of an entire day without neighbors or jobs to be bothered with. The noise that has not bothered anyone else, or that he ever came over and told us about. Or even wrote a letter to us about.
We found out that he was trying to get out of his lease, but didn't want to pay. I guess he found an easy way out, too bad he still is going to have to pay. Not only for the remainder of his lease, but the gashes in the wall that he left, the dirty apartment, and the fee they will surely charge for hauling off all of his crap that he left.
****The video of the bang. It's shortly after the 22 second mark:
Barktoberfest
We didn't win, but at least the boys made it to the pictures online!
If you look behind Shawn's butt, you can see Biko's little lobster tail.
All in all, we had a good day. The boys were tired, we were tired, and Mark got to look at Batgirl's butt.
If you look behind Shawn's butt, you can see Biko's little lobster tail.
All in all, we had a good day. The boys were tired, we were tired, and Mark got to look at Batgirl's butt.
before i'm 40
i recently saw my cousin shannon and our uncle pointed out one of her tattoos, and she said it was on her list of things to do before she turned 30. in addition to other things, but it got me thinking about the things i too had wanted to accomplish before x age.
since thirty is obviously come and gone, and i'm working on getting to forty next, i figured why not make such a list for the new age, since 40 is the new 30 right?
so here it is, in honor of three weeks until my next birthday, the things i will accomplish before i turn forty. this list will likely change in the next nine years, but i'll be happy to start it with this:
get that darn kilburn tattoo skippy has promised he would get me
have my sinuses ripped from my head once and for all
get an mri in a tube
go to south africa
go to italy
go to scotland
finish college
finish my masters
move to another state
drive cross-country in an rv visiting small off-the-wall museums
find that one friend from high school that i always wonder what happened to
lose the weight i gained in my twenties
train mungo to shit on a leash
take ballet classes
write a book
find the perfect pair of shoes
go on our honeymoon
pay off our credit card debt
tell the people i love thank you
send out our thank you notes from our wedding
introduce skippy to the remaining kilburn's before they all die
start an animal sanctuary, or at least run someone else's
convince skippy to stop eating meat
convince skippy to lower his cholesterol
convince the in-laws that i'm not evil incarnate
watch titanic
watch the princess bride
kidnap christian bale
see david sedaris live
speak a foreign language fluently
wear my wedding dress for a reason
organize my closet
since thirty is obviously come and gone, and i'm working on getting to forty next, i figured why not make such a list for the new age, since 40 is the new 30 right?
so here it is, in honor of three weeks until my next birthday, the things i will accomplish before i turn forty. this list will likely change in the next nine years, but i'll be happy to start it with this:
get that darn kilburn tattoo skippy has promised he would get me
have my sinuses ripped from my head once and for all
get an mri in a tube
go to south africa
go to italy
go to scotland
finish college
finish my masters
move to another state
drive cross-country in an rv visiting small off-the-wall museums
find that one friend from high school that i always wonder what happened to
lose the weight i gained in my twenties
train mungo to shit on a leash
take ballet classes
write a book
find the perfect pair of shoes
go on our honeymoon
pay off our credit card debt
tell the people i love thank you
send out our thank you notes from our wedding
introduce skippy to the remaining kilburn's before they all die
start an animal sanctuary, or at least run someone else's
convince skippy to stop eating meat
convince skippy to lower his cholesterol
convince the in-laws that i'm not evil incarnate
watch titanic
watch the princess bride
kidnap christian bale
see david sedaris live
speak a foreign language fluently
wear my wedding dress for a reason
organize my closet
The sox
I was a huge Barry Bonds fan. Growing up outside of Pittsburgh in the 80's, it was the thing to do.
Then he left for San Francisco, started a new "training program" and became the home run king. And I still loved him, 'roids or not. Talent hit those balls, and possibly the 'roids made them go further.
Regardless, I loved Barry, and I loved the Giants.
And then Barry was gone. He made history, he was investigated, and I stood by him and then he unwillingly retired.
And suddenly after a life of following one player and one team, I had neither. The only other player I found slightly intriguing was Cal Ripken Junior, and that was simply because he is hands down the sexiest man to ever play the game. Or played.
I couldn't follow the Pirates since I no longer lived there. I tried Gagne and the Rangers, and then he was traded to Boston and now he's gone.
The Rangers suck. A lot. So that was out of the question.
This whole season I was searching for a team. I love baseball almost as much as I love hockey, so it was a tough thing for me living in a house with a boy and not having a team to discuss with him.
He has been a Red Sox fan, but never wanted to jump on the bandwagon completely and give up on the Rangers until this season. I still think it has to do with his run in with Tom Hicks, but that's just my theory.
I love the city of Boston, so I thought I would hear him out.
We went to the Boston game last weekend. We ate. We cheered. He bought me another Boston shirt.
In my fatigue on our journey back to our car, I innocently made the statement that I could be a Red Sox fan since I no longer have a team, and now....he's holding me up to this.
Our loft is now the Boston room.
I watched a 14 inning game the other night.
I want them to win.
I threatened someone's life if they didn't return Fever Pitch to me (I've always loved Hornby...)
We're planning a trip to Boston.
I'm scared that my worn and beaten Giants hat is going to make it's way to the trash. Skippy has been threatening for quite some time now. I'm afraid he's going to get a little trigger happy and end the era before I'm ready.
And maybe that's not so bad after all. That hat does stink...and I do look good in red and blue...
i love her.
for all of John's faults (and there were plenty) he took me to see her do stand up at the majestic for my last birthday with him. Leif Garrett was sitting directly in front of me and she called him out on being there. It was one of the best standup events I had been to, with the two times I got to see Mitch Hedberg. Anyway, I think this sums up my life nicely.
Almost twelve weeks
Well, it's been a long and emotional road, but we're finally starting to see some progress and get back to normal.
I'm back at work and finally able to use my mouse on the right side.
I can lift my arm over my head, to the side, and almost in a circle.
I can lift small things (even though I've lifted not so small things too...)
My scars are finally starting to diminish
I'm no longer taking pain pills, just the occasional ibuprofen
We're almost unpacked at our apartment, and able to breathe again. Pretty soon, we'll be back out in public making appearances too.
I'm not going to lie, things have been rough this year with this among other things, but I think we're finally seeing the end of our misery in sight. Thankfully, Skippy is insane and does not fully realize what a crazy bitch I truly am. My goal in life is to keep it as much under wraps as possible so he won't figure it out and leave!
I'm back at work and finally able to use my mouse on the right side.
I can lift my arm over my head, to the side, and almost in a circle.
I can lift small things (even though I've lifted not so small things too...)
My scars are finally starting to diminish
I'm no longer taking pain pills, just the occasional ibuprofen
We're almost unpacked at our apartment, and able to breathe again. Pretty soon, we'll be back out in public making appearances too.
I'm not going to lie, things have been rough this year with this among other things, but I think we're finally seeing the end of our misery in sight. Thankfully, Skippy is insane and does not fully realize what a crazy bitch I truly am. My goal in life is to keep it as much under wraps as possible so he won't figure it out and leave!
almost seven weeks
well, after my recent checkup with my doctor, my sally sunshine outlook on my progress was shattered and my mistrust of members of the medical profession renewed.
my doctor is scatter brained and should not be involved in the progress of his patients past the point of performing surgery.
my doctor did not give me home exercises, nor did he give the correct instructions to my physical therapy team. this has left me even further in debt, and wasted my daily, yes daily, trips to the therapist for the last six weeks.
everything that i thought i has accomplished was overshadowed by my lack of movement. movement i was told i wasn't to make until the 19th of august according to my initial post-surgery appointment.
even in all this and the ensuing depression, i'm determined to prove him wrong.
i'm returning to work on august 11th in my sling and unable to move my arm enough to work a mouse. i'm not sure how it's going to work,but i refuse to stay in this house any longer.
our move is scheduled for the 16th, so in the middle of all this, we've got to finish getting this house packed.....well, by we i mean skippy since i'm not allowed to do anything. of course, that could be wrong since we don't really know what i'm allowed to do or not.
either way, the hutsons are vacating this property with or without our belongings!
my doctor is scatter brained and should not be involved in the progress of his patients past the point of performing surgery.
my doctor did not give me home exercises, nor did he give the correct instructions to my physical therapy team. this has left me even further in debt, and wasted my daily, yes daily, trips to the therapist for the last six weeks.
everything that i thought i has accomplished was overshadowed by my lack of movement. movement i was told i wasn't to make until the 19th of august according to my initial post-surgery appointment.
even in all this and the ensuing depression, i'm determined to prove him wrong.
i'm returning to work on august 11th in my sling and unable to move my arm enough to work a mouse. i'm not sure how it's going to work,but i refuse to stay in this house any longer.
our move is scheduled for the 16th, so in the middle of all this, we've got to finish getting this house packed.....well, by we i mean skippy since i'm not allowed to do anything. of course, that could be wrong since we don't really know what i'm allowed to do or not.
either way, the hutsons are vacating this property with or without our belongings!
six weeks
six weeks today! so here's what i've accomplished.
taken a shower by myself
moved my arm by myself....granted it was in the pool, but i did it bitches!
packed some boxes for the impending move
put on my bra by myself
wore pants with buttons AND zippers
put on deodorant by myself. it was the spray kind, but i did it
shaved my legs by myself
made a bed
cooked spaghetti
drove a car (with some help from my drunk husband)
changed my shirt with sleeves on my own
have watched all of tori and dean, flipping out, kathy griffin, more split ends, more clean house, season two of weeds, the rest of the tudors, bucket list, vantage point, superbad, harold and kumar escape from some other place, californication season one, this american life, a dogs life, the dog problem, and so much more that i can't remember.
i go back to the doctor tomorrow, and hopefully, i will get the release to go back to work and get out of my stupid sling. that thing is hot and stinky, and it's days are done!
taken a shower by myself
moved my arm by myself....granted it was in the pool, but i did it bitches!
packed some boxes for the impending move
put on my bra by myself
wore pants with buttons AND zippers
put on deodorant by myself. it was the spray kind, but i did it
shaved my legs by myself
made a bed
cooked spaghetti
drove a car (with some help from my drunk husband)
changed my shirt with sleeves on my own
have watched all of tori and dean, flipping out, kathy griffin, more split ends, more clean house, season two of weeds, the rest of the tudors, bucket list, vantage point, superbad, harold and kumar escape from some other place, californication season one, this american life, a dogs life, the dog problem, and so much more that i can't remember.
i go back to the doctor tomorrow, and hopefully, i will get the release to go back to work and get out of my stupid sling. that thing is hot and stinky, and it's days are done!
Thanks W
for letting oil/gas prices soar.
my beloved element was not as efficient as our wallets could handle.
my husband thought that it was holding us back since it couldn't hold it's gas
my old friend safely transported me across this country of ours
a trip down the east coast during a blizzard
to new orleans post katrina
austin for a few adventures with friends
amarillo for a celebration amongst said friends
many states, many cities, many miles, and many gallons of 87 octane
too many gallons for skippy
so today, we said goodbye to the element. we bought our first grown up car. a sedan.
a sedan.
i'm thirty
im married
i own a sedan
a sedan.
the seats don't come out, they don't even fold up to the sides.
you can't hose it out when the dogs pee or i puke.
you can't camp out of the back.
you can't move furniture.
i can go 500 miles on a tank of gas
i can move my seat electronically.
i can start the car without a key in the ignition
i can start the car without the keys coming out of my purse.
i don't hear the road
i don't feel the bumps
i won't pay for new brakes, 4wd, tires, or a windshield
i'm sad to say, i love my new car.
so goodbye old friend, i hope you make the next driver as happy as you've made us. i hope you listen to as much bowie, dylan, gomez, and npr with them as you did with us.
i hope they have dogs to slobber on your windows and roads for you to get lost on.
i hope they save dogs, turtles, cats, and moving costs with you just like we did.
maybe when obama gets oil prices under control, we'll drive one of your descendants
in the meantime, i'm going to love my life in the passenger seat of my new sedan.
my beloved element was not as efficient as our wallets could handle.
my husband thought that it was holding us back since it couldn't hold it's gas
my old friend safely transported me across this country of ours
a trip down the east coast during a blizzard
to new orleans post katrina
austin for a few adventures with friends
amarillo for a celebration amongst said friends
many states, many cities, many miles, and many gallons of 87 octane
too many gallons for skippy
so today, we said goodbye to the element. we bought our first grown up car. a sedan.
a sedan.
i'm thirty
im married
i own a sedan
a sedan.
the seats don't come out, they don't even fold up to the sides.
you can't hose it out when the dogs pee or i puke.
you can't camp out of the back.
you can't move furniture.
i can go 500 miles on a tank of gas
i can move my seat electronically.
i can start the car without a key in the ignition
i can start the car without the keys coming out of my purse.
i don't hear the road
i don't feel the bumps
i won't pay for new brakes, 4wd, tires, or a windshield
i'm sad to say, i love my new car.
so goodbye old friend, i hope you make the next driver as happy as you've made us. i hope you listen to as much bowie, dylan, gomez, and npr with them as you did with us.
i hope they have dogs to slobber on your windows and roads for you to get lost on.
i hope they save dogs, turtles, cats, and moving costs with you just like we did.
maybe when obama gets oil prices under control, we'll drive one of your descendants
in the meantime, i'm going to love my life in the passenger seat of my new sedan.
