(a) not returning about a dozen emails
and
(b) not blogging
Wanna know what the valid reason is? Huh? HUH? Do ya?
IT'S BECAUSE ALL MY SHIT KEEPS BREAKING!
Fuck.
So, I went to Austin this past weekend and as soon as I pulled into town, my car did something weird. I happened to be on the phone with Snow and she and I both came to the same (RIGHT) conclusion, so break out your Chic Points book and add a few by our names. When I hit the accelerator, just to go from like 25mph to 45mph (sorry my Canadian/anyone else who uses the metric system readers, I don't know the conversion to kilometers), my RPM's jumped up in between 4k and 5k but my car didn't really go any faster. It just sounded like I was parked and trying to rev my engine. Which I totally never do in the mini van because, hello? That's not fun. It' a mini fucking van.
Anyway, I told Snow that I thought my transmission had just "slipped"... which I am pretty sure means something to dudes but to me personally (and probably the vast majority of chics out there) it just means "broken" in Transmission Talk. This led into a conversation about how there is NO FUCKING WAY IN HELL that my transmission should be slipping. I drive a 2006, less than 32k miles vehicle for fuck's sake.
The Snow mentioned that maybe I should have the transmission fluid checked (which I just had done on the 3rd of this very month) and I concurred. Then I had to get off the phone so I could focus on how exactly my car was messing up so as to relay it later to someone who could tell me what was wrong with it.
I had a friend of mine cruise it with me on Saturday and he rechecked the transmission fluid (which was a little low, but not even to the point of being too low yet). Basically, it needed to go to the shop.
So let me tell you how fun the two hour drive home from Austin on Sunday was...
....
Yeah, that's about it.
It blew.
You have never, in your life, seen a chic's ass clench the seat as much as mine was on the way home from Austin.
The problem was just getting progressively worse. I was totally scared shitless that I was going to break down In The Middle Of Nowhere Land, probably about five miles from Where Your Cell Phone Gets Reception Town. Plus, when your car is acting up, by law, you have to turn the radio off so as to relay all the scary noises to the dudes at the car place. (Brian Regan, who I am going to see live next weekend, has some great clips on this. Download them. Now.)
When I finally got home and let out that giant sigh of relief, pretty much everyone I had talked to assured me that:
(a) It was my transmission
and
(b) It had to be covered under my 36k mile warranty
But you know, as well as I do, dear reader, that when your car breaks, you just get some lubricant and bend over. The very thought that your broken car isn't going to clear out your savings AND lose you the rights to your first born is practically laughable.
But, yesterday I get a call from the dude at the car place who's name (and I am so not changing it here people) it Brown who informed me that my transmission would need to be replaced AND they had a free rental car sitting up there for me because this is all covered by the warranty.
So, I put the lubricant away and went and picked up my rental
But only in that corner, lol.
Back to my valid reason for not blogging. I get home last night and go to turn my computer on and BAM!
Totally effing broken.
Windows won't start. Not in any mode.
And I don't have the original XP discs so I can't just reformat. Nor do I particularly want to because I would like to keep all my shit.
Snow did some searching for me yesterday as she is an Aspiring Computer Goddess and said something about my needing to do something with my something and my something.
Yeah.
That's about right.
Soooooo, right now I am secretly blogging to you lovely people while I am at work. You know, so know one thinks I've fallen off of the planet. I'm still here, I'm just in the disguise of a chic with no computer driving a bright red Chevy Colorado.
