Goodbye, Faithful

Yesterday I cleaned out my old car, and said good-bye. I really wished I had my camera with me so I could take some memory pictures, but I didn't have it. Don't know if you ever forget what a crashed vehicle looks like once you crawl out of it anyway, really. It was harder than I expected to say goodbye.

There was a lot more stuff in my car than I expected, too. And I kept remembering just one more little hidden pocket of STUFF that needed to be cleaned out before I was really done. I realized as I was driving away that I've had that particular vehicle during the toughest and longest transition of my life. That it was my go-to resource during that time period. That car always worked. Whatever I needed always fit into it. I could be alone when I drove it, and anything I put inside would still be there when I came back. That car always got me where I was going, and it didn't aggravate my old injuries on the way. I always felt safe in it, and I used it to escape-- often.

I first purchased her while my then-husband was deployed in Iraq. I got tired of being stuck at home every time it snowed, so my new car had AWD among the other things it gave me. I also bought it at a time when I was finally coming to the realization that my marriage was never going to get better, and that once he came home safely, I was probably going to say goodbye. For both our sakes. I had a lot of emotional conversations with friends while driving her, since I couldn't talk on the phone much when my then-husband was home. Some of those same friends packed her to the hilt-- twice-- during the three hours I had to move out of my soon-to-be-ex's apartment when the time finally came to go.

She moved me from there to a friend's spare room, from there to another state, and into three different apartments in the year after my marriage ended. I was sitting in the driver's seat when I got my acceptance letter for the MLS program I wanted, and I drove her to that horrid job at the office for the criminally insane. After that, I drove her back and forth (an hour each way) to my subsequent nanny job-- for a year while I finished school.

The strange, poetic, full-circle part of it all is that my ex just made his final alimony payment ever last month, and I just graduated from school so I can have a career and support myself independently this month... I'm finally starting the next phase of my life. The transition from married to me is basically over. Finally. My car helped me through the whole get-independent process, start to finish. And within a few days of that process ending, my get-through-it car ended, too.

I guess it's a graduation of sorts. No more crutches. No more dependencies and old habits. No more reminders of my past life. No more reliable blue car with the "not interested" bumper sticker and the big red frog on the back. That still hurts to think about, though. No more Army stickers and pit-bull nose-prints in the windows. No more maps for all the military towns we lived in, either. No more reminders of all the things I didn't accomplish during my marriage.

Maybe this isn't dread in my tummy. ...maybe it's PMS... Or maybe it's just an empty spot where the past used to be. You never know. PMS can do some pretty drastic things to your tummy, let me tell you! Maybe I just need to give myself time to grieve the dreams and crutches (and the car) that I lost-- and remember all the great hopes and possibilities and personal goals I've replaced them with. My life now is so much better and brighter than I could ever have imagined it to be three or four years ago-- back when my transition to independence started.

I have friends who love my art, and don't care who I talk to on the phone. I have friends (well, one, anyway) who get as excited as I do over Pirate Music, and nobody in my new life uses my quirks as an excuse to put me down. I have friends to laugh with, friends to cry with, and I have places in my life where it's okay to enjoy being alone. I can watch Banger Sisters for the 37th time, and nobody comments on how well Goldie Hawn's boobs have held up over the years. Nobody gets mad at me for wanting to see a movie that many times, plus one more. Nobody gets bored half-way through and leaves to go play video games instead of cuddling with me on the sofa.

I can put yeast on my popcorn, and ice cream in the freezer. I can eat nacho chips and baked garlic on toast, with brie and basil on the side. I can sing silly children's songs and stand on one foot while I do the dishes (old habit, don't ask). I can get the urge to blog about the dread in my tummy at midnight, and jump out of bed to do it, knowing I'm not going to be waken at 4am to help find somebody else's special bullet-proof glasses. And two matching boot-top twisties. And to frantically sew the new patches on the other side of their only clean BDU shirt-- at JUST THE RIGHT ANGLE-- before my alarm goes off at 7am-- because he was too lazy to do it himself the night before.

I don't feel guilty every time I park under the covered parking, and every time I go out to lunch with a friend. Nobody makes me feel stupid for wanting safety bars in the windows and that extra lock mechanism on the front door. Nobody tells me what to wear (tho I'm really glad some of my friends are willing to give me opinions when I ask-- I admit to needing help from time to time), and I actually like coming home at night. To my home.

It's a good life. And very different from the one I used to live. With all the distance driving I do, and the limited amount of buying big stuff, no dog, and not too many friends without cars these days either-- the things I need in a vehicle have changed. I guess it makes sense that the vehicle itself might change, too. Now, I just have to get used to driving it. Darn.

What To

I don't know what to think. Ever since ... well, no. Before that. At some point on my way home from Mexico, I started to have this niggling feeling of dread. And then the car accident happened. I am so glad nobody was hurt! My insurance company was just awesome about it all, too.

I had a rental, I had a second interview for a job I wanted, I found out I didn't get the job. I found out my car really IS totalled, and I switched to an easier-to-drive rental. I actually kept the Behemoth longer than necessary because of the continuing feeling of dread in the pit of my tummy. If you're going to worry about bad things happening, you might as well be driving a cross between a tank and a toaster oven when they do. Technically, I think it was a Dodge Nitro.

I discovered that I had made the smart choice to pay a one-time fee for auto-loan-coverage on my old vehicle. That means that if your car is totalled (like mine), and it probably isn't worth what you still owe on the auto loan (like mine), your insurance pays the full loan amount regardless. I'll definitely be getting THAT coverage again. Then I got a good new auto loan, and started shopping around for a good new vehicle to drive. My parents even decided to help me with a down payment as a graduate-from-grad-school gift. No strings. Very cool of them!

VERY!

Today, I found an awesome new car. I got it for a decent price, and I drove it home with no problems. So WHY do I still have this feeling of dread in my tummy, and WHY is it getting WORSE?!

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Tomorrow I finally get to talk to a real person about my new vehicle and my new loan, etc. Tomorrow I'm also going to call and make sure my old loan really has been taken care of at this point. Tomorrow I go visit my folks. Tomorrow I have GOT to figure out a good gift for my aunt. I still can't believe we're two days out from Christmas. In Mexico, it's 85* and sunny for grinch's sake!

I'm suddenly remembering that although I wrote a new will, and my two friends, SM and DM agreed to be my new medical decision-makers, well... I still haven't gotten the sucker signed and sealed. It's sitting in a folder on the desk top of my computer... waiting.

I even found time to apply for one of the Youth Librarian Substitute slots that just came open in a city near me. It would be a great short-term solution to my job crisis if it works out. I know several people who are actually supporting themselves as librarian substitutes right now.

So in the meantime... if you have any idea what I'm so worried about-- let me know, okay? I'd like to deal with it and move on. It's almost Christmas, and I have things to do, people to hug, a cat to pet, and a car to drive. My life is pretty darn amazing. I'd like to be enjoying it. It's a good life. Really.

I mean-- I lived. I got away with some stiff muscles and a small bruise on my forehead. I don't owe thousands of dollars on a vehicle I no longer own. And I actually qualified for another car loan after that. With no job, no income, and no collateral.

I've got a place to stay with people I like. I've got a trip planned to visit a good friend and troll for jobs in the big leagues mid-January. I've got food in the fridge (I should really clean out the fridge!!), clean laundry, and a solid internet connection.

Like I said-- Life is good.
I'd like to start enjoying it now.
kthxbai

Crashing

There has been a lot of crashing in my life lately.
Crashing into each wave on the hour-long boat ride from Puerto Vallarta to Yelapa Mexico...
Crashing waves in Yelapa, Mexico...
The folks who crashed the wedding party in Yelapa, Mexico...
The wedding-crasher who had way too much to drink and then crashed in Yelapa, Mexico...
Crashing because I was SO DAGM TIRED when I got home from Yelapa, Mexico...
And my least favorite,
The car crash that happened to me this morning, in the USA, on my way to work the morning after I got home from Yelapa, Mexico.

So... what's new with you?


Okay okay-- I don't have it in me to type up all the great stories from my trip to Mexico right now, but I do want to say that I have never appreciated the very LOUD noise of the pounding surf as much as I did on Saturday Night. And I was also grateful for the mosquito netting around the bed. Not only did it keep all the crawly-biteys out, but it kept me from having a full frontal view of our naked guest after he and my roomie got out of the shower. Shower being a loose term, in this particular instance. In Yelapa, the showers are... rustic... and you get to share them with the local fauna.

Also on that subject, I have a new job title to add to my resume. I became the official lizard-wrangler at the wedding, thus allowing the bride to use the "bathroom" (again, a loose term in Yelapa) prior to the wedding ceremony. I'll have you know that no animals (or reptiles) were injured during my stay. They all went out the front door under their own power. I tell you, I am a master lizard-wrangler.

And my car accident? Well... not happy. Hopefully, I'll get a free rental for a few days. Hopefully, it only takes a few days to fix my car. Hopefully, they install an all-way stop at that dagmn intersection sooner than later. The officer did say, though, that this accident had less residual car-bits to clean up than most accidents at that intersection do. Yay. Nobody was hurt in any visible fashion. That's the good news.

Dog Days of Winter

A snapshot of my day:

6am
Mrrrrt? ....Mrrrowwwrrr?
THUMP!

...Mrrrr?

6:45am
Something is staring at me. I can feel it, and it wakes me out of a dead and desperate last half-hour of sleep before the alarm goes off.
...oh. It's my cat. She wasn't sure if I was awake or asleep, so she came over to find out. Guess I'm awake now.

8:10am
Shgit! I turned off the alarm, and actually went back to sleep! With the cat!

9am
I call in to my internship to let them know I'm going to be late. This head cold is really slowing me down, and that extra hour of sleep didn't really help much. I can't call in to the library because it doesn't open until 10am. I email my supervisor. I take an expectorant because my ribs hurt from coughing, and this is supposed to help the coughs do their thing more easily.

10am
Yet another reason to demand truth in advertising. I have not stopped gut-wrenching coughing since I took the dagmn expectorant. I can't see straight to find my keys let alone drive to my internship. Guess I'll be later than I thought. (B-HH-HH-HH-CH-HH-*gasp .... cough-cough... BHHH-TOOOHHHH-HHHH-*gasp... blow nose, feel head pound, wait for next big coughing fit to-- BHH-TOOOHHHH-cough-HHHHH)... I think I just gave myself a nose bleed.

11am
Grab 2 skeins of yarn to return to store, along with receipt. Put cell phone in purse. Put on Volunteer Badge. Grab lunch leftovers. Grab warm coat. Grab list of Practicum Goals from start of semester. Grab cat as she slides out the door. Start driving to internship. Dog in road. Lean black dog with collar and mange. Dog looks both ways, crosses in front of me since I've stopped. Dog gets out of road, I drive on.

11:30am
I arrive at my internship. I finish up a few final projects for various librarians. I get some interview advice. I look over my original goals and see what really happened here...

12:30pm
I leave for another local library branch, where we are having our monthly Youth Services Meeting. I realize that I've forgotten my purse. At home.

3:30pm
My coughing is so bad again that I leave the meeting early. I decide to head home for cough medicine and my purse, and then jet back to the library for the last hour of my internship.

4:15pm
Traffic is bad, too. And there's another dog in the road. Same road. I stop for it. A dalmatian this time, also with a collar (but no mange). This dog is stupid, but nice. It trots down the road in front of me. It stays in my lane. It makes good time. I put on my blinkers and roll along behind it. Someone in a parking lot sees the dog. It's her dog. She comes across the road to get the dog. The dog lets itself get got. I start driving again, and I turn off my blinkers.

4:30pm
I'm not going to make it back for that last hour of my internship, I might as well stay home. (cough, hack, wheeze, moan) Oh, look. Here's my purse. Hanging from it's hook as usual. At home.

...Mrrow?

CatTail #347

There I was, sitting at the dining table, reading my favorite comic book and blowing my nose because I have the head cold for hell...
when suddenly, and very quietly, from the direction of the bathroom...

ka-thud.

It sounded strangely like a cupboard door closing. But it's just me and Abbigale tonight. Waiiiit....

My cat must be trying to get into the bathroom cupboard. Again. So I yell a reprimand, and watch the hallway for any nonchalantly emerging kitties. But nobody appears. Sometimes she waits until I actually head toward her to stop whatever it is she KNOWS she isn't supposed to be doing... so I get up from the table.

No dice.

I went down the hall and into the bathroom, stepping carefully in case any guilty kitties tried to flee the crime scene, as they've been known to do. The bathroom was empty. Silent and empty. (Insert shark music here.) So, not being one to give up easily, I opened the first cupboard door I came to. And out popped a kitty. Pmmrrowt? A kitty who had obviously been trying to open the hinged side of the cupboard door for some time with no great success, but was too proud to meow for help.

I really hadn't thought there was ROOM on that particular shelf for a cat, but hey-- I've been wrong before. And she didn't actually knock anything over while she was in there. Actually, I used to barricade that cupboard doors shut with a half-gallon of vinegar, but people kept stubbing their toes and looking at me like I was crazy when they went into the bathroom... They obviously don't know about Abbigale the Intrepid Explorer. But I do. I have photographic evidence of her earlier excavations under the living room rug. And a permanent record of her fangs in the soft wax of a tapered candle that once got in her way. I've occasionally woken to the sound of wind chimes. Inside the house. And thus been called to duty as refiller of dangerously low cat food bowls at 4am-- more than once. So I know that just because I couldn't immediately see evidence of a crime didn't mean one hadn't been perpetrated. Oh no.

A ka-thud in this household, however quiet, is worth a thorough investigation, and probably a good laugh. If it isn't 4am. At 4am, it's only worth throwing a shoe in that general direction and hoping the covers are still warm when you get back under them.

I love my cat. Mostly.

The Phonebook Incident

So... One of my best friends is getting married soon, and we just had her bachelorette party. Excellent naughty cupcakes, let me tell you! Made me think back to some of the events surrounding my own wedding (back before the divorce and all)... Things that were crazy-making at the time, but are just so FUNNY now that so much time has passed!

Like when they forgot to deliver the wedding cake on the morning of, or when all the guys in the wedding party got drunk and shaved their heads the night before, or those hikers who got locked out of their car and wanted to make that phone call in the middle of the ceremony... Or the pie-eating incident...

The one that really made me laugh, though, was the memory of my leg waxing. Now, normally, a leg-wax is more of a scream than a laugh, but this was different. Well, not that different. I think there was actually a lot of screaming going on at the time. You see-- my mom made the appointment for me about two weeks before I got into town-- and didn't write it down anywhere. So there we were-- me and three frantic bride's maids-- trying to jog my mom's erstwhile memory, hunting for clues about who she might have called for my leg wax, and hoping I wasn't already late. I think we called two or three places in town and asked if they had an appointment for me on their books before I found the pencil dot next to one in particular in the phonebook she'd used.

That may have been the most stressful fifteen minutes of the whole weekend. Thank goodness she had remembered the time wrong, too! Man, is that a funny memory now. Adventures with mom. I tell you, there is nothing like laughing at old and now irrelevant memories to remind me how good it is to be single ... and independent.

... and how lucky I am to have such good friends to laugh and remember with...

Babe, I'm wishing you a beautiful wedding, to go with your beautiful relationship. One full of happy calm moments, and free from all those unexpected memories that are only funny a few years after the fact. Love you both.

oh, and by the way, thank you all for NOT telling me those stories until after the wedding was over and the guests had gone home. I'm not sure I could have handled the pressure as well as you all did, under the circumstances.