Andi Pandi

Okay my pretties, I am so sorry that I haven't been blogging lately.  I have started a couple times and it just comes out sooo bitchy (thank you pregnancy hormones for making me so very pleasant) that I have just been scrapping it and leaving you staring at this boring story about my ass.  nice.  sorry.

So, I DO actually have something funny to tell you.  At least I think it is funny.  Maybe it isn't really funny though, but either way, I am determined to post SOMETHING, ANYTHING here to entertain you so that these weee little numbers dont shrink anymore than they have.

So we're having a baby.  That will have to sit in an enormous car-seat thingie.  That HAS to be in the back seat of a car.  Prolly MY car. (mostly).  sooo....I drive a two door car.  Which means that i either have to take the baby out of the carseat everytime we get in and out (thereby bumping either my head or hers every single time and teaching her vulgar language at an extremely early age) OOOOR: get a car with four doors.  voila.  Those are my options: swearing like a sailor in front of my infant OR different car.

It turns out that the Different Car option only shields her a little because the swearing is still taking place, only she can't really hear it because her ears are full of amniotic fluid. (lucky little girl).  Like when your mom would come and yell at you at the pool, and you heard like muffled anger, but your head was under water, so you really weren't getting the full message...but you knew that as soon as you ran out of air and had to come up that you were gonna get an ear-full.

So i went to the dealership yesterday to test drive a slightly used (one year old) car like mine with four doors instead of two.  I got in the car thinking "this will be exactly like my car, so I should totally love it".  WRONG.

I got in and it smelled funny.  I tried to keep an open mind because currently the only thing that smells GOOD to me is bleach.  So i assumed it was just me and my pregnant nose getting in the way.  But as we were driving I came up with this huge scenario as to why this blasted car that i SHOULD love smells so offensive:

There was a man who wore the cheapest cologne available.  And he cheated on his wife and she threw him out and he had to LIVE in the car.  Until one day she took him back and he thought "shit, i better clean this car up" so he grabbed a can of LEMON PLEDGE and tried to clean it with that.  So the resulting combination is: man-whore cologne plus lemon pledge.  nice, huh?

So I managed to tune out her entire spiel about "traction control" and "drive differentials" and words that sound like that because I was so caught up with the whole "man-whore-lemon-pledge" concept that I really couldn't be bothered to hear her.

Against any sort of better judgement I went along when she said "lets go talk some numbers". because, after all, i have to have a car with four doors, right?  and I am not really looking forward to this anyway, so I may as well just get it done.  So we went to her office and i gave her my bright idea: two numbers.  First number: how much i want for my goddess-mobile in pristine condition and second number: how much the man-whore-pledge-mobile is worth to me.

Car Dealer: ha.

Me: you ha. (rubs belly defiantly)

Twenty minutes later she comes back shaking her head (like they teach that in used-car land or something). and says this: "oasidh oihoiha;osedh fhjlslkh $776798 khngdlsiahgisdhj ff 7564 months ldjkhogfius;ha tl".

Me: (stares blankly ahead.)

Me: I gave you my offer in english, what is this?  and why would someone finance their car until their unborn fetus is in college?

Car Dealer: well what is your payment now?

Me: 330 dollars.

Car Dealer: HOW DID YOU GET THAT?

Me: I am a grown up and had a down payment.

Car Dealer: (confused) oh.

Then, because I am a total grown up, I start crying.  And mumbling something about how my car is way better than theirs anyway and that their car smells funny!! and then it occurs to me that I am not in a padded cell by myself and I should LEAVE THE DEALERSHIP. (wish my brain could have had that thought about three minutes earlier).

So I went home.  and drank chocolate milk.  and missed my husband who had to be away.  and begged him to rescue me from car-buying hell when he called to say goodnight.  (and then woke up this morning and continued to bitch about it and pet my dash fondly and whisper sweet nothings to my sweet little baby-car who does not deserve this treatment at all).

Me buying the goddess-mobile. (notice both legs in casts from car accident two months previous? yeah, I didnt get to actually drive my car for like two months after we bought it!  They would just wheel my wheelchair out to the garage and let me LOOK at it for a few minutes at a time...dang I am gonna miss this car...)

So for several months now i have been dropping Very Subtle Hints (read: blatantly obvious hints) to Steve about how important it is that I get an Acura.  Every time we pass one on the highway: "oh isn't that beautiful and i think they also come in blue!"  for months now.

So i went and test drove one today at lunch and you know what they have that my Accord does not have? Nothing.  She was showing me all these features and staring at me blankly when I wasn't in awe of all the different buttons. "look, ooooh la la seat warmers!" Me: "yup, got those".  "but you can open the sun roof TWO ways!!" me: "yup." (her: blank stare, in total amazement that I am not drooling on the steering wheel)

So I guess fate has determined that I always be a middle class, Accord driving soccer mom...BUT with a sunroof that opens TWO ways.

Last week a fairie with sparkly wings sailed into my office and told me that we were going on a work related vacation to a sweet little ski-village and staying at a spa for the conference.  Snap to me laying in a steamy sauna with drapey white towels all around me and magical mascara staying on my eyes even through the penetration of 200% humidity...sipping on mimosas and eating freshly peeled grapes...so dreamy right?

Now...snap to me riding in a car with three other full grown adults and all of our luggage, laptops and pillows.  Snap to me in the backseat, pea-green and vomiting into my pillowcase on a TEN HOUR drive (do i need to remind you how i feel about cars and road-travel in general right now?  even the three people we will encounter on the road are a threat to my new $165k legs) through the desolate wasteland that is Western Kansas.  Then, even when we get there, we are talking three grown women with ONE (eeeeeeek!) bathroom, two beds and a pull out couch...

Any visits to the actual spa area would be wasted after the ten hour drive there and the ten hour drive back accompanied by four nights on a pull out sofa...no better way to UNDO a 90 minute massage than to try to sleep with a steel bar across your back, eh?

Why is there always a reality check at the end of my happiness?

Okay here is what I want to know:  Why did the little freak in a honda civic cut me off today and almost wreck my new car and then give me the finger?  Is it because she is one step below chimp on the evolutionary chain?  yes.  it is.

Most people seem to grasp that i do NOT like being in the car and I do NOT like the way that people drive besides me.  I have a ten foot ass-hole perimeter around me at all times...if you are an asshole and infiltrate said perimeter, I AM going to jump in your shit about it and you ARE going to be unhappy.  If you give me the finger, it is likely that i am going to try to slam on my breaks and let you ram your car right into mine, because i have the right of way and an ass-kicking lawyer who has nothing better to do than sue you and ensure that you stay forever employed by taco-bell to support my sundress habit.