Perpetual Smile

My phone vibrated against the desk. I shoved my bluetooth — that’s Mr. Bluetooth to you — into my ear and pressed the button, simultaneously checking my phone to see who was calling. My BlackBerry’s screen greeted my with my Dad’s Facebook photo.

“Hello,” I said, clicking at my screen.

“I’m not gonna get you in trouble, am I?”

“No,” I said. I glanced at the time on my desktop toolbar.

My dad seemed to hesitate, and then he asked the question that I am supposed to be always asking: “Can I borrow your car?”

His van had bit the dust a week or so ago, and he had bought a used car to replace it. Unfortunately, the Altima he’d bought turned out to be a lemon. He’s been taking my Ellie every so often to go do jobs — he’s an oversized load escort — until he can find something else because he doesn’t trust the Altima. Every so often he’ll ask or, like a couple of days ago, he’ll just borrow her for quick errands. (I’ve thought about using this all as leverage. Trust me. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.)

“Sure,” I agreed. He explained that he would drop his car off in the parking lot at my job and take my car from there. All I had to do was give my building’s receptionist the license plate so that the Altima didn’t end up mistakenly being towed. No problem. Besides getting to drive something else, I was getting gas out of the deal.

After work I walked the block to my parking lot and got into the Altima. “Could have at least cracked me a window, Dad,” I said to the inside of the car. I lifted the mat and rooted around for the key. “Ah-ha!” As I put it into the ignition, I braced myself for the possibility of it not starting (its neutral safety switch is busted, just like Lisa Mazda‘s was). It started just fine, and I glanced up to start backing out. No rearview mirror. “Aw, Dad!” I checked my side mirrors and looked behind me. Fine. I could do this. No big deal.

I put the car into reverse and started backing out. BOOM. BOOOM. BOOOOOM. Where was that awful too-high bass sound coming from? Me? It was coming from me! Or, the Altima, actually. A second later I totally forgot about the sound as I began backing out, hoping that the side mirrors weren’t hexed and that I wouldn’t end up bashing into one of my coworker’s cars. (You never know. It could happen. Really.)

All backed out and ready to go, I started to leave the parking lot. BOOM. BOOOOM. BOOOM-BOOOM. “Oh my god,” I thought. “It sounds like a GIT car!”

Yep. I had the radio’s volume almost all the way down and yet it sounded like I had one of those bass booster thingamabobs in my trunk. As I sat at a red light, the entire car was shaking, as if I were sitting in one of those massage chairs at the mall.

The whole ride home, I thought for certain that it would die on me. Or that someone behind me might get pissed at my slowness. Or that the brakes might fail and that I would go sliding into another car. Or maybe a cop would pull me over because of the little ghetto car’s looks.

Instead, everyone ignored me. For once, no one rode my ass — even though I drove slower than ever! (They must have thought I was one of them, due to the BOOM BOOM-BOOM BOOM.) I drove past two cops and they didn’t so much as blink at me. And best of all? No one died. Hooray.

“No wonder you didn’t want to drive this thing,” I said to Dad when he called me to make sure I got home okay. It occurred to me then that he might have thought I wouldn’t make it home alive in that thing, either!

Leave a comment and tell me: What’s the worst car you’ve ever driven? (Bonus points if you can tell me where I got the title of this post from!)

I’m a rockstar at this blogging thing, I know. You don’t have to tell me how great I am at posting every day, and you definitely don’t have to tell me that I post way too much.

Ahem.

These last few weeks have been insane! I wish that I could remember everything but, sadly, my brain is wiped clean. I have enough trouble talking and putting words together into coherent sentences, never mind trying to remember everything that’s been going on. I now know how Ozzy feels.

I’m not even sure where to begin, as I can’t remember what I last wrote about and am way too lazy to actually go hunting through the two or so posts I’ve written in the last couple of months, so let’s just cut to the chase: car (Lisa Mazda) is dead, all I’ve been doing is working, my story “Anonymiss” won second place in this year’s Fresh Ink contest over at Naugatuck Valley, and I can meow.

The 2009 Writers’ Conference was Wednesday, and the guest speaker was Everett Hoagland, a poet from Massachusetts. His poems were really, really good. I literally fell into a sort of trance as I listened to him read. They were filled with a rhythm that I swear only African-American poets have. Even this guy’s presence was amazing; he was just so composed and peaceful.

I read my winning story from last year’s Fresh Ink, “Moon Prayer,” just before the awards for this year’s contest were presented, and after I read Everett pulled me aside and asked me how long I’ve been writing. I told him since about third grade, and remembered the story about dalmatians I wrote with my classmate Sherry-Lee. (I don’t remember what that story was about, only that it was about dalmatians and that we wrote and illustrated it on darker fuchsia construction paper.)

“I can tell you take this seriously,” he told me. “For you to write such detail, to know so much about someone who is so different from you, is amazing.”

I could barely speak, I was so astonished that this amazing man loved my story.

“You are already an accomplished writer. We’re going to be hearing about you,” he said. He said that to me several times throughout the day.

I don’t think I’m a bad writer. I mean, I know I’ve got a little talent, I guess. Several teachers, family, friends, and Professor Harding have told me over and over that I have talent. I guess I always just thought they were biased, because most of these people really liked me to begin with. For this guy, someone who did not know me at all, to hear one story and say those amazing things to me… Well, it meant a lot. He was so, so inspiring.

I felt really good about the whole day, actually. I got to connect with a lot of people I haven’t seen in a while, and Professor Harding and I went over a little of The Cure Program. To make things even better, Mike spent the whole day with me because I don’t have a car and had no other way of getting there. He said he had a lot of fun, and I really enjoyed having him there. We had a blast during the writers’ workshop that Professor Harding did.

As strange as it sounds, I really miss NVCC. I’ve never missed an old school before. I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere. But I truly did fit in at that community college, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel that “snug” anywhere else. I think that’s as good as it gets for me.

I had a lot more I wanted to write about, but I want to get to bed. Maybe I’ll update again before July. (;

Almost forgot that I promised pics. Got my toes done, but need to get them done again now.

I look so freaking tired here. I got my hair cut last weekend, and dyed again, thanks to my cousin Alicia.

Me and the kitty, with creepy glowy eyes.

My life is going at the speed of a frog in a blender. It’s almost too much!

I started working two jobs a couple of weeks ago. I am not used to working all day, every day. It’s exhausting! It’s totally worth it at the end of the week, though. I’m actually catching up on things I’ve been trying to save for. Maybe I’ll even be driving the Sunfire soon, rather than my death trap Mazda. I even got the BlackBerry I’ve been dying to have (thank you to Sarcastica for being so patient and helping me get on BB Messenger)!

A couple of days ago, I also partnered my web design freelancing business with my aunt’s web design and print media business, OSC. We will be collaborating on social media websites. So basically, if one of us has a client that needs a website and social media, we will work on it together. I will be working on the social media end of it, be it setting up accounts on social networking sites (MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, etc) or building a site in WordPress. We will be offering training and hopefully will be doing seminars. We have an expo in about a month that we need to prepare for, and we’ve been doing a lot of networking. Needless to say, I’ve been working pretty much non-stop and I could use a nice, long nap.

Somehow, through all of this craziness, I’ve managed to stay smoke-free. I don’t know how the hell I’m doing it.

Of course I have another sinus infection. I have to call my physician in the morning and get some drugs! I thought that by quitting smoking, I wouldn’t get as many sinus infections each year. I guess I thought wrong. I don’t want to go back to smoking, though. I don’t even care that I quit, and I’m glad for all of the extra cash (especially now that Connecticut is hiking up the taxes on tobacco).

The only real problem with all of this working is that I’m starting to feel like I don’t ever do anything fun. I realized the other day that I’ve been much been working non-stop for the last year or so, and that sucks. It’s starting to drain me. I spent most of the day yesterday trying to stop the

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from leaking out of my ears.

My only consolation is that today is Wednesday, Friday is pay day, sometime this weekend I am going to get my hair cut, and Julien-K finally released their debut album. Oh, and did I mention that Mike found me the ultra-rare translucent Dr. Manhattan figure? Cool beans.

This turned out to be a longer post than I intended. It’s (most) of my woes, so if you want to skip it and read something more cheery, I recommend the Fun stuff category. Otherwise, leave a comment and tell me about your woes. It’s not all about me here, anyway.

This morning on my way to work, I passed a Sunoco and glanced at the price. It was $1.99 a gallon (cash). While most of us rejoice at this lower, Walmart-style price, there’s that nagging feeling in the back of my head that says, “this is bad.” I am only vaguely aware that the reason for the lower gas prices is the declining stock market. The people around me who know about these things — like KJ at work — tell me that the price of gas is going to keep going down, since the stock market won’t be going up anytime soon.

It’s a Catch 22, just like my own financial situation. I ranted a little about this on Scars Can Speak (the Letters of Love blog), and I’ve been writing in my own journal every day about different ways to tackle this problem. Either way, I lose on something. If, for example, I get a second job, I’ll be doing even more running from place to place and who knows how I’ll get my school work done for the rest of the semester. If I get more hours or can go full-time at my current job, I’ll only be able to take two classes next semester rather than getting a full head start on my BA. If I can’t get more hours at my current job and can’t get a second job, I’ll have to leave my current job (which I really like) for a full-time corporate job. Yes, I’d be making more money, but I wouldn’t be able to go back to school full-time for a while. I’d have to be a part-time student. It would take forever. I am so career-oriented and want everything done yesterday that it would drive me nuts. Read the rest of this entry »

To start with, my car is intent on killing me. It has a lot of weird electrical problems that can’t be fixed because there’s no telling where it’s coming from. My windshield wipers work only when they want to — as in, never. Even if I disconnect the battery — which I have to if I’m going to be somewhere for more than two hours, or else some unknown source will drain it — sometimes it still won’t start when I reconnect it. Sometimes I have to put it into Neutral before it will start. Sometimes the windows won’t go down, or the window fuse will blow. There’s more that I’m forgetting, but that’s basically it. Read the rest of this entry »

My Gmail address is so lame. When I created it, I had just finished reading The Dark Tower, hence the number nineteen. But it gets tiring, typing that whole damn address out. And, looking at it now, it sounds way whiny and emo. Meh.

Speaking of random things: My dad finished Lisa Mazda‘s brakes yesterday and told me to keep checking the brake fluid, ’cause I might be leaking it. Sadly enough, I’m not sure where the brake fluid is. If I’m right, it’s leaking. If I’m wrong, I need to figure out what the stuff that I was looking at is. Yeah.

There was an actual point to this post, but I’m not exactly sure what that was.

Those pics of my awesome red hair are on their way. I just can’t seem to get the lighting right. It’s hard work, taking pictures of yourself. (;