Blown Fuse

FRACK!

Oh. Kay. So, they wanted $1,200 to fix my Accord enough to make it pass a SAFETY INSPECTION. Not emmissions inspection, natch.

Fuck that on a car I don't drive, man - I didn't know anything was wrong with it! It seems the muffler and a couple of things that connect to it are holey and need to be replaced.

Something in the ABS system needs to be resealed. That's like $190.

Four tires at $77 each. Tire alignment.

Front headlight and brake light.

Fuck it. No way I'm investing $1,200 in a 9-year-old car I'm trying to sell. I'll never get that investment back with the number of miles it has on it. I told them to put the tires and lights on and that I'd pick it up Monday with a statement of all that shit they just told me.

The best I can do is hand that right over to a potential buyer and say, "Here's what's wrong with it. You get an $800 discount for the trouble."

Just fix it.

I just dropped my Honda off at the dealership for some work. I woke up in sheer panic this morning remembering that the car was supposed to be inspected last month which I didn't have done because I didn't have money to replace the tires...which is kind of a requisite when they're bald. Not only do I need at least three tires, but the ABS light came on this morning while I was looking for a Firestone to get cheap tires. Couldn't find it. Fortunately the Honda dealership has shuttles that can take your broke ass home after you drop your car off.

I still don't really have the money, but I'm stepping out on faith here and hope I can get this car sold in the next two weeks with the promise of getting a title to them within 30 days. Hell, I've got bills to pay.

Okay, so...one of the dumbest things I've ever done was purchasing a new car when my current one still had six or so payments on it. I love my Jeep - don't get me wrong, and I got a great deal on it. Paying two car payments at once, however, is sure to put you in the po'house.

I didn't want to use my Accord as a trade because I knew that there would be more value in a cash sale. I could have sold it to a dealer at any time, but I wanted the title in my hand before I made any deals.

Since my grandmother got the car for me when I was in college, I would have felt ike a real jackass if I had traded the car in. I did take over the payments a couple of years ago, but all the same that's a lot of payments she made. She's an old lady. She could have used that money to sun herself on a beach somewhere.

I decided that I would sell the car outright and send my grandmother whatever I could get...minus $1,000 or so for me to pay a couple of bills and maybe put some bucks away for baby furniture.

Cross your fingers and hope that Honda doesn't call and tell me I need new brakes. Because I'll cry, and that normally doesn't make them drop their prices.

Rabbit food

Um...McDonald's is one of my dearest friends. The smell of a Big Mac awaiting consumption in a brown paper bag is one of those scents that can knock me out of a work-induced stupor. Don't even get me started on the zen of a hot, crispy french fry.

Today, I wanted a salad. When I was going through that few weeks of food aversions, one thing that I really, really did not want is a salad. I don't know why that is.

Yesterday, I was feeling well enough to go out and for lunch we went to Subway. I had one of their Veggie Delite salads (which is nothing but a bowl of sandwich filling, but anyway). Today I didn't feel my salad craving had been satisfied.

I was looking forward to lunch and going to McDonald's and getting one of those nice fresh garden salads with maybe some cold hard-boiled eggs and French dressing like they used to have on display on top of the counter back in the day when everything was simple.

Because fast food restaurants never advertise the full menu on the drive-through panels, when I pulled up I saw a choice of an Asian salad, a chicken ceasar salad, a bacon ranch salad, and some funky-looking apple & walnut salad. Because I wanted a meal and not garnish, I made the mistake of ordering the Asian salad (with grilled chicken). From the picture, I could see it had mandarin orange slices and it looked pretty refreshing. I figured I could pick out anything I didn't want.

When I got it back to the office and pulled off the lid my heart sank.

It had edamame, toasted almonds, some red pepper, and snow peas on top of tired-looking iceburg lettuce. They didn't even bother to cut up the chicken. They just laid it on top in one big hunk. It really looked like nobody ever ordered that particular salad, so they just opened up the can of edamame and dumped half the damn thing in MY salad to get rid of it. I'd venture to say there was more snow peas and shit in my salad than...well, salad.

I wanted a green salad with cucumber, French dressing, and cheddar cheese. Maybe a couple of bac'n bits and some protein thrown in for flair. As gauche as that sounds, that's what I wanted.

That salad was sooooooooo unappetizing. It just had too much shit in it that wasn't really tasty. I ended up eating half the chicken and threw the rest of it out.

What a waste. I still want a salad.

Feh.

In general, this has not been a good week for the Tiffany. Everything pisses me off. Everything makes me nauseous. My cats think their butts are 4-star views, especially so when you're trying to type an email and they want to plop right down in front of your computer monitor to preen themselves (butt included).

I've been home sick for two days. Yesterday was the absolute worst day (to date) of this pregnancy. I threw up seven times and had the sickest migraine concentrated behind my right eye. Only after eating one of those chalky, nasty Pepto Bismol tablets at 6 PM was I able to keep some food down. I think it was Ore-Ida crinkle cut fries.

Today I stayed home because I was weak and exhausted from throwing up and not having any food yesterday.

Work sucks because people assume that I want to help them. Okay, that's wrong to say. Work sucks because people like to dump responsibilities on me that I'm not aware of until there's a problem that needs to be fixed. That pisses me off because I'm a person who likes to plan and do things proactively. If you dump some shit in my lap that should have been solved a week ago, I get reaaaaaally pissed off.

But, in happy news, my free ultrasound on Wednesday was proof that I'm exactly as pregnant as I think I am. Yulp. The process was uncomfortable because it involved a set of cold metal stirrups and stripping from waist down, but I've got to tell you that nothing will awe you like seeing your kid's heart beat at 9 weeks.

I think every mommy-to-be is a little paranoid that they're going to hurt the microbaby if they take a teensy sip of Dr Pepper or can't stand food for a couple of days. Pregnancy isn't exactly idiot-proof, but the young'un has ways of protecting itself during your puking phase.

I've spent the past few days learning that there isn't shit on cable between 10 am and 2 pm. I've watched more Spongebob and Dora the Explorer than I care to admit. I'll just call it research, you know...for the baby.

Oh, and you can Click here to see a fancy-smancy ultrasound picture of the microbaby.

So that's what you think, huh?

Do e-mail forwards count as e-mails?

I'll explain.

My mom tried to ream me out last week for not responding to her e-mails.

She rarely sends me a real e-mail. They're mostly forwards and "Oooh, look what I found on the Internet!"

She tried to impose a 24-hour response times for all e-mails.

Whatever. I'll send her e-mails that read, "Oh, that's cute!" and see if she thinks that counts. She also thinks that I spend more time with my mother-in-law than with my own family.

In other news, my boss wanted to announce my pregnancy to the whole office this morning. As much as I'd like to have people stopping by my desk every 10 minutes to ask me dumb-as-shit questions, I had to squash that notion. He wants to start doling out my duties already. How fucking long does he think I'll be gone? If I'm going take an extended, extended maternity leave I'll just quit. I won't be getting paid anyway.

And their on-hold music is HORRID.

You know how you call a utility company to cancel a service and the rep transfers you to the "orders department" to take care of that?

I sometimes wonder if the people who express an intrest in cancelling a service are put into a special queue where they're on hold twice as long.

Yeah, beacuse I just spent like 15 on hold with Verizon trying to cancel a number that I told them to cancel two months ago.

Someone should do a study on that: whether people who are signing up for new service hear a live voice faster than people doing account maintenance or closures.

Just fix my damn house.

If any of you are knowledgeable about how residential contractors work, I'd be interested in hearing your commentary.

Scott got a referral from our electrician, who has proven himself to be quite trustworthy, for the name of a guy to finish up some carpentry work around the roof and paint the house. We trusted that this guy would be good (and speedy) based on the electrician's mention that he lived two doors down from him and that they've gone to church together for a long time. Our electrician always shows up when he says he will and does good work for a good price.

Seeing as how our last carpenter decided that his original quote was too low and didn't want to finish the work for the price, we kind of thought, "Well. He goes to church. What are the chances he'll screw us?" He even calls his two-man company some bible-inspired name.

Okay, so the guy hasn't technically screwed us yet, but our house is still in a state of "under renovation" and we can't get the roofer to come out and put the gutters back up until everyone else does their job.

The contractor and his assistant came out on schedule to finish the carpentry and powerwash the house. Everything was great - the driveway was clean and white. After a couple of days of rain, they came out to do some sanding and paint stripping. That took a couple of days, however before finishing they disappeared, leaving their ladder and extension cord running across the yard. There's drippy melted paint goop coming off the soffits they didn't scrape.

Last Thursday and Friday were both beautiful, warm, sunny days - both of which they were supposed to be out to work on the house. They didn't show either day and didn't return phone calls.

They've been paid half down for the job with the other half payable upon completion.

So...what's the deal here? Are they trying to shaft us (time is money) or are they simply trying to squeeze us in between larger, higher-paying jobs?

Scape 'n Paint

Not that I consider my feet to be particuarly gnarly, but as Easter approaches we all know it's the time of year for the toes to make their debut. Some people wear sandals all year long, even through snow and rain - I'm not one of them.

A coworker sent this friendly reminder to some of us ladies:

Ladies,

Just a friendly reminder, it's that time of the year again. Please raise your big toes and repeat after me.

"As a member of the Faux Paux Sisterhood, I pledge to follow The Rules when I wear sandals and other open-toe shoes:

I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.

I will vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe. I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.

I will shave the hairs off my big toe.

I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend/coworker/mother/sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.

If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.

I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr.Scholl's if my feet need him.

I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' sizes. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.

I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.

I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes look like they've been dragged behind her car on the way to work and no sandal in the world is going to make her feet look good.

I will promise if I wear flip flops, that I will ensure they actually flip and flop, making the correct noise while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.

I will promise to go my local beauty shop at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $15 and worth EVERY penny). I say spend another $15.00 and get a even better one.

I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show of wear... nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals."

Just thought I'd share. :)