The Adventures of ChicaWow, Part I

Boy, was today an adventure. You knew I wouldn't be wallowing in self-pity for too long ;).

[Ok, you're right, it was too long. Before I begin: Why the hell am I reading stuff titled 6 smooth ways to decline a date? Why? Why? It's not like I'm swatting them down like flies. I'm the Brave Little Taylor of Dating!!! "I turned down seven with one... er... nevermind..." Yay! Hail to me! Check out number six. I'll try that one next time.]

As y'all know, I got diagnosed with tendonitis on Friday. Saturday I went to see Fahrenheit 9/11 (more on that on Part II); Sunday to church and choir practice, and now, it's Monday.

And what a Monday it's been!

First, I get up to go to work, only to be told that I couldn't work unless the doctor said I could. Now, to most ordinary mortals, this would be good news: "Yay, I don't have to work." But this is because most ordinary mortals hate their job. I don't. I FREAKING LOVE MY JOB!!! (Thank you, Heavenly Father!) So I was mad from not being able to work. So I did as I was told and walked 5 blocks to the doctor (and back) to get my note.

The doctor examines me and says "You're better, but you still need an extra day's rest." Dang it: good news and bad news if I ever heard the combination. Once I get the note, I trek back to work and hand it to my boss. She was very nice about it and said that she had prayed for my recovery, so that's very nice of her :). Before I left, I bid my coworkers adieu, and headed to the place where all tendonitis victims go: the Mall!

I bought me a couple pairs of shoes there, then ordered some food to go, then went across town to the beauty salon, then I drove to the post office to get my LB lingerie (it's so perrrrty) and then drove home to eat my lunch.

After lunch, I get in the car for my 1:30 massage appointment at the chiropractors. The office is about 3 minutes away by car. It took me 20 minutes to get there, because of a wreck on State Road 2. So I find a parking spot, and go to my appointment. After settling in for the massage, I couldn't exactly relax. I was very ticklish, so every time the therapist ran her hands through my back, I would burst out in giggles. And trying to keep the giggles in would make me tenser. But fortunately, she found it funny too, and it wasn't after getting hooked up to the pulsating machine that I was able to relax.

Once my chiropractor adjusted me (and we laughed when he said "Excellent" a la Mr. Burns), I went to my car, and when I went to start it:

"tack tack tack tack tack"

What sounded like small arms automatic fire was actually my car's battery. After nearly six years of loyal service, it finally died. It had a nice acid mushroom cloud over one of the contacts.
I walk a block and a half to get a Coke to pour over the contact to wash it out, which I was hoping would at least let me start my car so I could get it to the Western Auto across the intersection, it did not. I waited 20 minutes for my parents to arrive. When they do, this lady bumps my car's rear while she's trying to park behind me in a space where she obviously doesn't fit. And she didn't notice either until I got out of my car and looked at her like I was going to beat the crap out of her). Then, I ask my dad to stay with me while mom goes to get help at WA. So while I'm in the car writing all this down, I look around and my dad's not there. I panic, cuz after all, he's still not better, and I thought he would try and talk to people in their cars while they were waiting for the light. I call mom, and she says: "oh, he's with me." And of course, I go ballistic because the man did not tell me he was leaving. Plus, he was supposed to stay with me so I wouldn't be by myself.

Ten minutes pass by, and they show up with the WA guy, who jump starts my car. I drive it over to WA, where I have to wait for them to see if they have the battery I need. They do, and $120 later, it's installed in my car.

But, while I'm waiting for it to get installed, this lady approaches me. She's there for a new battery also. But she just starts talking to me out of the blue. Since I was still mad over the whole incident and not being able to work on school stuff like I wanted to, I really didn't want to be talkative. But then a voice inside my head told me that I should at least be sociable. God sends people angels all the time, and a lot of people ignore them. So I decided to be sociable, and boy did I get a surprise.

For some reason, we start talking about Michigan (we were talking about our cars, and my baby was born in Michigan). So she began to say that people in Michigan were losing jobs left and right, even at UofM in Ann Arbor, and I say, "ah, it's ok by me because I went for a bit to Ohio State, those are their rivals". And the lady says, "oh yeah, well, I went to Marquette, then Wisconsin, and then to school in Texas."

OH.

CW: "Really? Where at?"

Lady: "The university of texas".

HOLY FREAKING COW. You'll find t-sips and Aggies anywhere :).

So we talked for a bit, and exchanged business cards. Turns out her husband is a Texan, and he's living in Puerto Rico. I asked her how she did it, and she said, "I told him: 'If you want to marry me, you'll have to move to Puerto Rico.' And he did."

She was very nice. I think I may call her soon.