Dreaming of cars

Since I can't afford anything these days. I went and looked at new cars today.

When I was younger, I drove a camaro. First a nice vintage one and then a nice new one. Both standard transmissions and Oh! so cool. Then being a parent took over and I switched to an SUV.

Parents, I found out, didn't want their kids riding around in a muscle car. So, I sold out and bought a SUV and I have never looked back. Until today. I'm done with field trips and huge trips to the supermarket. Oh sure, I still have the dogs but surely they can fit in the back seat. I love the feel of an SUV in the winter. The ability to take on everything in my path. It just doesn't have the cool factor.

I think I want the cool factor. The feel of power. The fun of shifting. The feel of the thrill. The feel of being reckless and throwing caution to the wind. An SUV says "Hey! I'm dependable, predictable, safe." I want the car that screams "Fun, witty, lives life on the edge."

I want to do something that doesn't seem like something I would do. That people will shake their heads in disbelief that I have chosen to live my life with such a devil-may-care attitude. I turn 46 next Monday. It will be a hard birthday. Times are tough for me right now and I worry about everything and anything. The adult I am right at this second, is not the adult I want to be long term.

Maybe dreaming of a black car with a manual transmission and the ability to head south for a road trip, is just what an almost 46 year old female needs. That and a lot of horsepower under the hood. I feel the need for speed!

Thank you but no

So here in Senior land, it is time for Prom.

Having a boy, while fun in the abstract, totally sucks for dances. You never see the complete couple. Picking a new colored shirt for the suit in no way compares to picking out a prom dress. You get to order the corsage and imagine it on someones wrist.

So I've done all that. Ordered the limo. Made the dinner reservations. Ordered the corsage. Bought the new shirt. My job is done.

Until today.

One of my friends brought up drinking, specifically renting a hotel room for after the dance complete with alcohol. I drink. I make jokes about drinking. I am in no way comfortable with my underage son drinking. Not in my house. Not at a hotel room. I have made this clear to him, which didn't really need to be said to begin with, since he doesn't drink.

I don't hide my head in the sand. Drinking is a HUGE part of a teenager's life. Commercials and TV shows glamorize it. The school has monthly meetings about the effects of alcohol. We have known of accidents that have destroyed lives due to drinking. Yet, it remains a constant concern.

It seems the parents are in two camps. Those that say no, absolutely not. And those that say kids will be kids, as long as they don't drink and drive what can you do. Oh! I don't know, say NO!

I say no but I also say if it happens CALL ME. I will come. Don't do something stupid, dangerous, life altering. I would rather deal with him drinking then him dying. Or killing someone.

Yesterday was Senior skip day. Even at the picnic the seniors had, there are the photos for all to see of beer, vodka. It is not hidden. No one is scared of getting caught. There is no fear. It seems to be out of control.

So this stick in the mud mother, said no to the hotel room. Said yes to a extra hour in the limo with a bottle of sparkling apple cider driving around the city. Said yes to ordering the most expensive dessert the restaurant had to offer. Said no to drinking. Said yes that all the vices shall be yours, when the time is right. When you have full understanding that the decisions you make, carry heavy responsibilities.

I keep my cell phone close, my fingers crossed, I open the door and let him go. It is hard.

Car Woes - Part Two

So my car is still in the shop. I still have to deal with the service department, which I still haven't gotten any better at. I am still driving the lovely little loaner car.

I blew out the radiator. I needed new valves for an oil leak. All just a giant ball of fun.

My service representative, also called idiot boy, is never available. I'm sorry he is away from his desk, I'm sorry he is with a client, I'm sorry you are not important and he really can't be bothered with you AT ALL. The excuses are never ending and I find that I start to have a voice that only dogs can hear whenever I call the dealership.

Sure, when I bought the car, it was explained to me how wonderful the service department was. They would be at my beck and call. My car would be treated like the princess it was and I would be the Queen. Then they cashed my check. And the fairy tale balloon popped and I was left with the pumpkin and idiot boy. Not a match made in heaven.

It was supposed to be done yesterday at 5:00 pm. Now I live in Seattle. The pumpkin palace is in Bellevue. All which means I need to drive over across Lake Washington, in rush hour. So calling me at 4:45 pm ON MY HOME PHONE is really not the way to go. Even in the middle of the night, it will take you longer than 15 minutes to drive to Bellevue. So I don't get the message.

We take a lovely drive to Bellevue for no reason. I fume all the way home, in rush hour traffic.

Of course idiot boy, who had asked for the best phone number to reach me and was given my CELL number, but he had neglected to write it down. As he explained, most of the time his memory is just super Thank you very much, but he was having an off day. PENCILS, people, PENCILS! I will not hold it against you if you whip one out and jot down a note. In fact, I will probably hug you IN PUBLIC.

So hope springs eternal that today will be the day I will take possession of my car, new radiator, new valves and I can finally leave idiot boy in the dust. Lets just hope.