overload

i'm finally home and kz and i just did our xmas gift exchange.

i was already feeling good about life when i bought a new serious silverware set, a waterpik, 500-thread count sheets, and sak sofa pillows on major discount at the bargain stores down in NC when my mom, grandma, and i all channeled our shopping mojo and hit the aisles. then my parents had to go and get me the 5-year coveted dkny 'urban garden' duvet cover that i have wanted so sorely. holy shit. and then my grandma gave me an extremely meaningful family necklace to wear for the wedding. and then kz got me the kuhl sweater i insisted i must have. and a pair of 18kt white gold and aquamarine studs. to match my engagement ring for the wedding. omfg. i can die happy now.

homebody

i hate traveling.
and packing.
and being transported anywhere by anything other than my own car with me at the wheel.
and being surrounded by people i don't know, especially when they are coughing.
i hate being other places.
other beds where i can't sleep.
strange soaps and toothpastes.
pillows with different fill levels than my own.
different smelling laundry detergents.
different food in the fridge.
different morning routines.
different noise levels.
different grocery store chains.

i think i'm just a blanket hate-all traveller. i don't want to go on vacation anywhere. i don't want to see other countries unless it's by teleport day-trip. i will never go to vegas or on a cruise. ever. or south america, or africa, or asia. and i'm going to bitch my way through western europe someday. i loathe business travel. i don't even really like going "home", i just really like seeing my family. i don't like being anywhere but my own house. i don't even like to go xmas shopping. i live 0.5 mi from a huge, tax-free mall and i haven't gone since the summer. if you think i'm setting foot out there in this traffic, you're nuts.

i've always known i was a little OCD, in functional ways. i hate germs and dirt and outdoor clothes on my couch or bed. i hate doing things when and where everybody else does them, especially if there's any traffic. i hate spending money. i am in panic at not being able to bring a case of purell and 3 liters of water on the plane today, and 4 varieties of chapstick to suit my mood. i'm mad that i couldn't manage to pack a week's worth of clothes into 1 suitcase; because i needed 2 pairs of shoes and a rain jacket, and a space to fit my toiletry bag (why? because i might explode you all with my pomade? let's just drink the koolaid and kill ourselves now rather than live in fear and cede each and every comfort while we tread so carefully on the feelings of other cultures. but that's a story for another time), i needed a whole other bag. now i have 2 checked bags that can be lost irretrievably. great.

at least i have a cool family and a tasty christmas goose to look forward to. and then the return trip...

so alrighty, happy holidays!

still good

it's been confirmed - after 24 hours in the fridge, a half-consumed iced dunkies french vanilla still tastes awesome, and still does not taste like coffee.

never having failed to finish one in a sitting anytime prior in my life, i always wondered. now i know. why, you might ask, did i fail so miserably at finishing a large coffee? my 5'2" pint sized friends do this habitually due to the scaled down nature of their bladders, but my capacity for beer, liquor, and coffee has always been notable. i think when you're tapped into the coffee IV for the 48 hours preceeding a final exam, it's less about the discrete beginnings and endings of a cup, and more about when your pee stops smelling like coffee, because that's when you know it's left your system and you'd best ante up.

open automotive letter

dear car,

no, i'm too upset to call you 'steve' right now. we need to have a talk.
things have not been going well recently. first there was the failed inspection; that was not your fault, i know that flex joint was old and leaky. then there was the cracked windshield; i know we waited forever to fix that. and then when the new one broke, while i would chastise you for having such fiercely spring-loaded wiper arms, i can't really blame you for that either.
then there was the ear-bleeding rattle after this weekend's install. we outsmarted you there; a little exhaust wrap repositioning and re-torquing of nuts and it was solved. but such little swaybar clearance? what a design flaw.
what takes the cake was whatever part you spit out onto I-290 when i was late for class this morning. and then the horrendous noise and stinky exhaust gases that prompted me to drive home in this cold with the windows open. i mean, really. after all your father and i have done for you recently - new headers and downpipe, premium oil and filters, and new plugs for christmas. how many other cars your age do you know who get these things? hmm? all i'm asking for is a little effort on your part. you have another brand new windshield. i'm broke, and tired. your antics have driven me to eating too much chocolate and crackers, is that what you want?
so come on now. enough tomfoolery; let's weld this puppy back together and pass inspection. better late then never! there are no quitters in this family!

time for scotch

new stainless headers and 2.5" downpipe: done.

only casualties being a difficult manifold-to-head stud, a bunch of midpipe to cat hardware (which ted dulled 6 drill bits on), and the blood i left all over the header wrap once the fiberglass and wire had its way with my hands.

a good 10 hour day, i say.