Life By The Drop

By next week I will have photos of the new hairdo to post. I know I promised them a while ago but it just wasn't meant to be. Some of you know I got a digital camera for my birthday. You might be thinking, there is no good reason to not have posted pictures yet. Well that's true but I can't take pictures of myself. Sure, I tried but it didn't work out so good.

When you were little, did you ever look really closely at a glass Christmas bulb? If so, you noticed in your reflection your elongated face, extra large nose and scooping Jay Leno chin. Well, folks, that's what I look like in every single picture I took of myself. I need longer arms or a child who can hold still long enough to not get a blurred version of my likeness. This weekend I will go visit my mother. Providing I can teach her how to point and shoot, while standing still, there will be photos taken for me to post.

I know some of you voted for the Not So Regal Beagle post a while back and I just haven't gotten around to that story. See the truth is, all that is going on in the Gulf Coast Region has made anything shitty in my life seem like a piece of cake. It's ridiculous that a tragedy of this magnitude has to hit for my mind to realize that my life doesn't suck after all. I'm ashamed of my brain. Bad brain!

The week before all hell broke loose, my car, a Buick Regal, broke down. My old man took it to the shop for a diagnostic check. The mechanic said the mass airflow sensor was going out. Mr. Lane went to an auto parts store, bought a sensor and put it in. The car was fine for almost five whole hours. The service engine light came on again and the car died again. He headed back for another diagnostic check. Same report. Assuming the part was faulty, he went back to the auto parts store and traded it in. They hassled him but eventually gave him a new one. The same thing happened and it took a third sensor, bought elsewhere, before the car was working correctly.

With the car back on the road, Mr. Lane headed out on his way to California. Before he crossed the state line, my little world was going to shit. Sometimes I resent his freedom. This has been one of those times. My lifestyle is essentially that of a single mother's without the perks of boyfriends or government assistance. I'd cut off a few toes for some financial aid so I could take a mechanics class.

So there I was, having a craptasic life, or so I thought. The car broke down again, this time in front of the railroad tracks. The kids were shitting a brick. Everyone honked at me like I intentionally was fucking off.

I pushed and steered my car through the driver's side window. Once it was out of the way, I popped the hood, checked the sensor's connection. By the way, during this, not one person asked if I needed help. Dicks! The sensor wasn't loose and all of the wires were in place. As I was getting back in my car, unbeknownst to me, my cell phone fell off of its clip. I tried starting the car and it turned over. I drove away pissed off. That's when I ran over my cell phone. It was later found in all of its smashed brokenness.

The car died again as I was turning onto a major highway. We were seconds from a T-bone accident. Thankfully, that car stopped in time. Of course the driver just swerved around us and didn't stop to help. The car started right back up and we went straight to the shop, again.

The diagnostic report said everything was hunky-fucking-dory. Bullshit! They tried to charge me for the nothing they did. I lied saying I had no money or checks with me. "Please just mail the bill to my house."

Keep in mind, we are out in the middle of nowhere, which means there are few places to bring a broken car in for repairs. Because they had already charged Mr. Lane an arm and a leg, and I felt like they did nothing, I had no intention of paying that bill.

The car made it back home but died again the next day. Thankfully that time, we were only two blocks from home. Lane 1 steered and I pushed. We got it into the driveway and I called the shop. They had the balls to want to charge me a towing fee. Um, fuck you? Fuck you very much!

This time they said it was the crankshaft sensor. I asked if maybe my computer was shorting out because what are the chances of two major sensors going out?

The mechanic was sure this new sensor would take care of my problem. So far, so good. Then again, I've only had it back for a day. Keep your fingers crossed, please. Did I mention the fact that they didn't have the sensor? They had to order it and I had to wait until Thursday. I am thankful to have a neighbor who was able to drive the kids back and forth to school.

While all of that crap was going on, there was a water main break down the street from our house. We were without water for two days and no reliable transportation to buy bottled. And if that wasn't enough, Guido (the 17 year old cat) got sick. A trip to the vet, and a big fat bill, the vet sent him home with an IV for me to put into him if his dehydration worsened. Of course, it did. Anyone have any idea how hard it is to put an IV into a cat who won't stay still? I was sure my life was crapfuckingtasic at that moment.

Mr. Lane reached California. He sounded so happy. I hated him for that.

One night, I think it was Tuesday, I wanted to cry myself to sleep. I was overwhelmed with too much to do and too many things going wrong at once. I put the TV on to lull me to sleep. I watched CNN instead. I saw the footage, thanked God for my "miserable life" cried for them and went to bed at 4 a.m.

E-Lo inspired this post. Today she is talking about Lamaze class on her blog and it is by far some of the funniest shit I have ever read.