Thursday, February 28, 2008

Taxi, please!

After five hours of road trip, Chris and I were looking forward to a peaceful dinner. But first, I had to make the transaction. I was there to buy a car I hadn't even seen, for a man who was in Chicago. I finally hooked up with the woman selling it, after passing each other by the door. (thank you, cell phones) She gave me the key, and I went out to drive it around the parking lot. It was just what I expected, and even still smelled nice. (thank you, yankee candle car jar). But then the excitement began.
Her friend, who drove there with her to bring her home, went into a seizure and passed out at the table. I called 911, told them where we were, and what was happening, and they asked if I needed an ambulance. Now, if I'd been on my toes, I could have said that a taxi would be cheaper, but I missed my chance, and just said, "Yes, please." Boring, I know. I let even myself down. The whole thing sounds more clever in my head.
The stinky part was that after driving five hours, I still had to make the transaction, even if her friend was dying. Well, she wasn't really dying. Her blood pressure was just out of whack. So while the EMTs were checking her over, I filled out everything for the seller to sign, and then passed over the check. Yes, it was tacky. Yes, it felt inappropriate, but I wasn't going all that way and just coming back home empty handed. After it was all over, and I was home with this automobile, I realized I had dropped the ball. I didn't do a walk around. I didn't check all of its functions. I didn't even open the back doors to see if it had seats. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I bought this car from a perfect stranger without so much as looking at it properly. But God looked out for me. Not only is it nearly perfect, but it is nearly perfect! Just as she described on her ad, and everything Shawn wanted. Except the color. Shawn wanted blue. I guess he'll just have to make do. You can't have everything, you know!

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Where's the theme music?

You know those movies where everything is moving along smoothly and the musical score is light and airy, and suddenly you notice that the music starts getting darker? You can usually tell when the scary part is coming, and if you are like me, sometimes you even mute the television so the scary part is less frightening. Don't you wish it could be like that in real life? You could prepare for the scary parts if only you could hear the music. I am waiting for a call from someone right now, and I am seriously imagining the theme from Jaws. But, of course it may just be my overactive imagination. Someone please queue the theme music so I can get ready! Maybe I should put this paper I was editing in the freezer, a la Joey!

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

A Carburetor Came out of My Mouth!

I took my husband to the airport today. He left me. I am so lonely I could cry. Friday cannot possibly get here soon enough, and then I will go get him. He's on a business trip to Chicago and will returning in exactly two days, six hours, and forty-seven minutes. But I don't want to seem pathetic, so I will say he is coming back in a couple of days. On the way to the airport there was a plastic grocery bag floating through the air, drifting across the lanes, and it couldn't decide where it was going. So that meant I couldn't decide, either. It faked left, then it faked right, then it faked faking left, and then faked right. Okay, decide already! (I know you must have seen that episode of That 70's Show, right) I told Shawn that I don't like to run over those bags, because they get stuck under your car and then melt to the carburetor. Alright! I KNOW the carburetor is not really under the car, but that was the car part that came to mind first. That was the car part that wanted, no, NEEDED recognition. So a carburetor came out of my mouth. Well, not literally! I mean the word.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Gibberish and Greek

I don't know about all of you out there in "Blog Land," but I am quite overwhelmed with the prospect of resetting my template on this site. I actually created, like, three accounts, just trying to figure out how to create the one. Every time I tried to input the random letters they have there to keep out automated systems, I was actually creating a new account. Even though it was telling me I had made a bad something-or-other, it was taking my info and laughing at me. I think everyone must do this. I will tell myself it is so, and not feel even a little bit stupid. So there are three blogs out there entitled "There's a Circus in My Brain." Thanks to my sister for that title. She says that about her husband, and we actually have that in common. We can go from one thing to another without any obvious connection. It makes sense to us, but is a little like a circus to others.
The only reason I set up this blog is so I could leave a comment on a friend's blog. That's what a dedicated friend I am. So I am looking at these random letters and thinking to myself, "Are these real words?" I have never heard of a kiggert before. I think it is just gibberish. Of course I could be wrong, but it's all Greek to me.