father rapers and mother stabbers

i know i have grown up sheltered and spoiled. but i always figured i was pretty wolrdly, like i can get adventurous with my vernacular sometimes and i've sampled a lot of different cultural cuisines. i can appreciate turd art, african literature (they write? who knew?), bizzare tribal rituals and so forth. i have been educated in the liberal arts and i may be from the hamptons, but damn you i support labor unions.

today, the gulf between me and the rest of society was so poignantly illustrated when i went to lowell district court.
some of you are already uh-huhing and sucking in breath, feeling in the pit of your stomach what i'm getting at. if you're all, "what's she mean? i thought the decor was rather fresh," then you are probably one of the rest of society.

i had to go get proof that a hearing date for my <3 first speeding ticket ever <3 never reached me, because the clerk's office is retarded and the postal service, mentally crippled. later i had to take that proof to the worcester RMV, where the hearing officer was making his rounds (which RMV will he be at tomorrow? nobody knows! it's like playing plinko on the price is right!). i was actually dreading the RMV, but that was a speedy 20 minute in-out process where i got barked at by disinterested overweight middle-aged men whose patina of patronization barely masked their abhorration of all things tall, blond, and confused.

but no, the lowell court was...eye-opening. first of all, i was in a rush and without my obligatory morning coffee. ask me how drving the wrong way up a one-way street *with traffic* feels. eventually i gave up and parked, having ascertained that finding anything in lowell is easier on foot (albeit probably more hazardous).
i tried to ask a drunk homeless woman wearing fuchsia lipstick where the courthouse was, and she pleaded the 5th. i was like, sure you don't know where it is, you vagrant slut. anyway, when i came in they had airport-like security. they asked me in disbelief, "why is this bag so heavy?" and while i wanted to say, because it's a purse you bitch, and it's how i carry all the dead babies, i just shrugged and gave the suburban white-girl smile. they took my mp3 player away! but only after insisting i was lying and had 3 cell phones in my bag. one of which turned out to be said mp3 player, the other was my wallet, and the third, a hairclip. but after that imbroglio, they were watching me, hardened felon that i am.

i found the clerk's office and was confronted with a dilemma in line choice. CRIMINAL. CIVIL. SMALL CLAIMS. RESTRAINING ORDERS (they fast-track you, i guess?). MOTOR VEHICLES. ah yes, i am here because of driving, certainly that is my line. but no; i was informed to go wait with the people of dubious ethnic background in the CRIMINAL line. not only was i the only white person in there (besides the ABO gum-snapping clerk's assistants sporting pole-dancing couture), but i was the only person in the CRIMINAL line without a drug, alcohol, or rogue chromosome-related birth defect. i had a conversation with a few of them and it wasn't half bad; i guess poor people can smile and remark on the weather too.

so it's the end of the day and i only had to use 2 hours' vacation time for what seemed like a day in the life of sisyphus. i still have my license, all my personal property has been returned to me and all my cash is still in my wallet. and i'm no further along than i would have been, had the clerk not chopped off half my hyphenated name. now i'm just waiting for my next hearing date, and in august i'm doing a legal name change and putting a permanent halt to this bullshit.

but today has taught me something. i'm a spoiled, naive brat. and thank god.

sabominator's simple pleasure tuesdays

i have discovered that making faces at people's backs as they walk in front of me is quite amusing.

for fuck's sake

dear stupid work computer,

please instruct your microsoft office suite applications (word, excel, OUTLOOK) to please stop changing every time i type "ACN" to "CAN." if i meant fucking canada i would not be typing the common abbreviation for acetonitrile. you are really making my morning unbearable and if you were a person, i would pee on you and kick you in the shins.

<3
sabominator

i'm not lazy

seriously, i have been busy. making a new blog, just for some of you.

check it out; i'll add a side link too.

crazy wedding planning dump blog!!!

be forewarned. many of you couldn't care less about weddings schmeddings, and that's cool; i used to be just like you until i woke up one day and realized i do, in fact, have boobs (sometime last month).

but i'm being wicked nice and splitting all the saccharine ovaryspeak off to another page. so check it out if you really want to know the difference between brocade and charmeuse (which are not international entente cordiale treaties, i swear), but if you don't give a rat's ass, spare youself and DON'T COMPLAIN.

i feel so satisfied.

nostalgic

holy shit, this is one reason why i miss new york.

an example:

Hobo: Got a cigarette you can spare?...Give me a cigarette!
Girl #1: Hey, fuck you.
Hobo: Yeah, fuck you too!
Girl #2: At least we have a home!
Hobo: Yeah, I got a home too. In your mother's cunt, bitch!

--Broadway & Bleecker
Overheard by: Solanum

the bums don't have nearly that level of snappy comebacks in boston.

(this is another reason)

owie

i am so fucking glad it's friday, you have no idea.

i had a very stressful week, with a lot of busy-things-not-working stuff at work, and that car angst.

but i'm immune to stress right now, such is the extent of my physical pain after going out last night with kz, e$ and jp for some kim-chi and sake and showing boston how to drink gin while breaking it down at axis with layo and bushwacka! dropping phat beats till 2 am. so awesome.

i'm hungover, on <4 hours of sleep, and i dragged my ass to work by 10 am. my knee is killing me. as my coworkers noted, you are truly getting old when you have to ask yourself, "next time i go clubbing should i wear my brace?"

adult decisions

i'm all fired up now, having had a wicked stressful day and the largest margarita my local mexican place has to offer.

since friday, every waking (and many a semi-conscious) moment has been spent with this car issue on the back burner (and oft on the front, especially at work).


the problem: i am wicked frustrated. i have a great car that i love. it is a fun little go-kart for my 110 mi/day commute. it is not the most reliable, being 13 years old. i am tired of being tortured from the sidelines of events. ice racing and karting are not enough; i want autox, i want rallyx, i want anything i can get into and afford (hah). i'm tired of sitting idle and i'm only going to get poorer come school time.

the solution, responsible and meh: get a loan and buy a $7k-10k "reliable" car of the impreza L or mazda 3 hatch, etc. ilk. still fun to drive and handles well, but can stay mostly stock and has a powertrain warranty. race the se-r, since it's halfway to being prepped anyway. spend extra money on 1) race seat 2) harness 3) swaybars 4) smaller wheel/rack. probably not enter my own vehicle until next season; mooch off friends' rides this year. cons are high payments, insurance, waiting, and only being able to mod one car.

the solution, entirely puerile and quite attractive: buy a local se-r for cheap. it's a '91, 150k miles, with an oil leak (how bad? dunno), gear oil weep, 5th gear pop-out (who needs 5th in autox?), worn clutch and body rust. to pass inspection and avoid arrest while driving, it needs an entirely new exhaust (possibly header back), new rotors all around, front pads and probably calipers. if i had a garage, that would be no issue. and OMG IT'S ONLY $400 DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW CHEAP THAT IS. it's a great deal, it's really just great. i also have rotors, pads, suspension, and a clutch just kicking around. and a spare set of all seasons on stock wheels too. cons are obvious; it's a shit heap and i have nowhere to work on it. i would really enjoy having a stripped, lean, and mean dedicated project car; a white se-r to park next to my black one, and start a happy multi-racial family.

now taking votes. i haven't made up my mind and while the majority of my motorhead friends have weighed in, i'm always looking for some trouble.

spring is here

finally, the first garage day of the year.

i can at long last open my trunk; thanks to macdizzle for kicking in the board the amp was attached to and allowing us to crawl through and poke at the latch for a while. clever kz fixed the lock cylinder and while the back of my car may have the seats carelessly tossed in atop the ruins of the amp wiring and particle board, i can get to my ramps and spare fluids for the first time in 3 months. might even be able to put some groceries back there too.

steve's all nice and shiny, washed with that mr clean hose attachment thing; new oil, topped off gear oil, failed at fixing my winshield crack...no matter; it was a beautiful day rounded off perfectly by some scrapes, bruised knuckles, grilled steaks, and plentiful guinness. ah, at long last.

now back to the real dilemma that's been churning in my head for the last 2 days. that money in my savings account...buy a beater this summer for autocross, or save for a wedding gown...

fancy footwork

i had two harbingers for the hell i dealt with on the roads today.

the first was my intructor in a chemical hygiene officer certification course, who warned us that according to AAA, more people get in accidents this week than any other of the year, supposedly due to daylight savings and lack of sleep.

the second was this dream i had last night, where i rolled into a very haffners-esque tuning shop and as my car rolled through the carwash, somehow the body was just lifted off from the chassis by machines like in that chemical brothers music video. it was sanded and hit with touch-up paint, given new wipers and such; the chassis emerged carrying a steam-cleaned engine bay with all sorts of new tubing coming off my intake, which was all color-coded and labeled and stuff. it looked very fast. then they totally rolled my fenders and did some other crazy shit that i remember made me anxious about the bill. i think some recaro seats were going in when i woke up, and hot girls in bikinis were washing old muscle cars, and i was thinking that my friends would like this place.

so i felt a little forlorn when i walked up to my frost-coated ride, noting that the 1.5 FOOT long crack in the center of my windshield grows each day. today i decided to wear my new dyke shoes, thinking it was a safe day to get used to heel-toeing in the first new shoes i've driven in for a year, it finally being dry out and all.

natch i encountered some real winners. first this morning, some punk in an old riced out civic, as low as a roomba vacuum, buzzing his way up the onramp to 495 going maybe 30 mph due to the frost on his rear window and the sun behind him. i came around the corner at 55 or so and cut left into the second lane to pass with ample room, but apparently my performance exhaust leak proffered an audible challenge, because he suddenly floored it and matched my speed so well, i didn't hear him over said exhaust leak and was paying attention to merging onto the right lane of 495 when i noticed his pimply stubble (the only "pimp" thing about him) and backwards cap cruise even with me. he tried to force me into the traffic on the right and i didn't even dignify him with a downshift, i just pulled away in 4th and made sure he got to tangle with merging trucks. a sore middle finger is bad enough for 1 day, how random is that crap?

it gets better. on the way home, i admit to being a douchebag and avoiding all the stopped traffic in the right lane of the offramp of 495, but there's this whole other lane which i have a legal right to use, so i did. the problem was accelerating around 80 and then seeing a pickup go from a dead stop on the right to directly in front of me without even looking at oncoming traffic, several carlengths ahead. new shoes be damned, i slowed that train down from 80 to 30 in ~3 heartbeats (i could feel them in my teeth and ears. time stood still). no lockup, no fade, and a whole 6" to spare between his bumper and mine. good horn test, too.

so holy crap, i am totally driving about 5-10 mph slower tomorrow and i am making it through this perilous travel week unscathed, i tell you, disturbed dreams and dyke shoes be damned.

wtf, weather?

infectious disease

i hate using sick time for actual sickness. it's really hard for me to get up in the morning and determine that nope; it's no use going to work today; i can't imagine being on my feet for 8 hours, and i'd probably pass out before i even hit the pike on the way in.
usually my physical condition meets one of the following requirements in order for me to consider staying home:

projectile vomit or diarrhea, bonus for both simultaneously
a high enough fever to make me forget my date of birth and social security number
coughing up lung butter so hard or frequently, it makes me cry
a broken bone or soft tissue injury which utterly impairs operation of a motor vehicle

other than that, i'm pretty much going to work.

so imagine my surprise today when there was no question in my mind that i was going to call out for a mere urinary tract infection (i could just say "for some pussy UTI," but that is just too punny). i mean so you drink extra water and bite down on something hard when you take a whiz, what's so impossible about that? there are plentiful stalls at work in the ladies room.
but no; i was unwilling to venture more than 20' from the bathroom, with its monolith of F1, racecar engineering, and GRM magazines atop the back of the toilet. i could survive for days.

so after my perilous journey to the doctor, i'm downing mega-strength bactrim and phenazopyridine (makes your pee turn electric orange! wheee!!!). i think i've had a fever all day; when i'm not moaning in discomfort and gesturing rudely at whatever's on tv, i'm phasing in and out of a fitful sleep, which is better than standing up, when my headache makes me want to die. my heating pad has become my security blanket. the thought of food seems silly - why are there so many different types of food? what, like i'm supposed to get excited about ingesting any of this?

so holy infection, batman - this shit really sucks. it's the first time i've been down for the count from a lousy infection and not some suburban morph of daycare ebola. i have a new respect for my immune system and the wild ride it's got me on. yee-haw.