the Dalaverse

Grahhhhh. I hate mechanics. Not the people themselves, necessarily, but how I go to get my car checked and immediately feel like I've crossed the border into a foreign country. I suppose this is a girl thing. I don't want to be a cliché, but I really just do not get cars. If I turn the wheel and the engine rumbles, I'm good. The guy was giving me a lecture about transmission fluid -- he could probably see the panic rising in my eyes -- and he said, "But I'm sure you know that -- or you could have your father or your husband check it." And I was highly insulted for about two seconds until I realized that...yeah. That's completely true. I'm sitting here with the printout they gave me, waiting for Daddy to come home and tell me if the tires are in fact going to fall apart while I'm at school, which seemed to be what the guy was saying.

Mom (very seriously): You know, your tires are extremely important. If you have bad tires, it affects your transmission, your steering, your suspension...
Dala: You're trying to sound like you know what you're talking about when you have not more idea than I do, aren't you.
Mom: Yes.

But to be fair, stick me in the makeup aisle at Rite Aid and I'd be just about as hopeless.

And now I have grass clippings all over my hood. Fuckers.

Yesterday was my last day at work. Got chewed out for letting the new girl put in payments by herself, which she did incorrectly. Hey, I tried to say that she didn't have to learn it yet, or that we could split them up, but she insisted. It's not my job to babysit her when I'm gone on Sunday. Plusshe'solderthanmeIcan'ttellherwhattodo. Gail brought me fooooood from Baja Fresh, with the best fresh tomato salsa EVAR. Tuesday I spent at Tysons Corner with Beth, bankrupting myself at H&M and searching in vain for a purse to replace my old one. All I want is one that is exactly the same -- is that really so much to ask? And I can't find a suitable candidate anywhere. And believe me, I did look everywhere, even in places like Bloomingdales where I could not have afforded a single buckle on a shoulder strap. Ah well. The clothes haul was fabulous. I have new Jeans that Make My Ass Look Good, and a new favorite green blouse. So, score on that front. When we got home, we held a "Coupling" marathon and watched the second two seasons in their entirety. Gotta do the commentaries now. I watch the first two in Series 2, and Kate Isitt is my new best friend.

I should start packing, but we all know I won't.

Horrendously behind on the flist. Poke me if anything really cool and/or important happened.

So we took my car in again, because Dad confirmed that yes, my three original tires are in fact dry-rotted and losing their tread. Also that the heinously dirty transmission fluid should be flushed post-haste. At least there's a buy three, get one free tire special at Fitzgeralds this month -- the one we bought last year can be a spare tire. Of course, this also means that I am expected to learn how to change a spare. I said, "You know, there are always people around to help with cars" (translation: guys). He said, "Yes, and that day your mother's tire blew, she had to pay some idiot $50 to change it."

It's not that much *whimper*

So I'm carless tomorrow. This is very distressing. I don't like to be parted from the Cheese.

Then we continued on our shopping quest. Had to buy two new sets of sheets because all dorms now have the extra-long beds (I told her last year to just go ahead and buy the extra-long because I'd need them eventually, but did she listen? And now I have to leave my beautiful navy plaid Nautica sheets at home because they won't fit). Choice for extra-long is so shitty. I got a girly-looking lavender set and mock-denim colored. Then we wandered all over creation trying to find a new comforter, because I hate the flag one and now I'm afraid my beloved quilt, which my grandmother made for me, is going to fall apart if I use it on a regular basis (it's fraying a bit at the edges). I will freely admit it -- I'm incredibly picky when it comes to stuff like that. I don't just want a bedspread that's tolerable, I want one that feels like home. I finally picked out this tan and green plaid thing, which doesn't match either set of sheets, but oh friggen well. Also, not that this information is particularly compelling, a couple of new bras. One is pretty, all lacy and embroidered.

We ran into Elizabeth and Mrs. C in Kohls, which was...interesting. Mrs. C came over a couple of weeks ago to drop off the Redskins tickets, but I hadn't seen Elizabeth since her graduation party over a year ago. And before that, I hadn't seen her for...hmmm, three or four years. I used to consider her a better friend than Jessica or Laura (never Stephanie, though. Steph was the best of best friends, and Jessie was if we were doing horse-related things). I kind of wonder what it would've been like to go to middle school and high school together. I met some of Steph's friends at her New Years Eve party junior year, and they were definitely not compatible with our little H Hall group. But Elizabeth was so incredibly smart -- still is. Now she wants to be a...god, I don't even remember, some kind of specialized scientist. When Mrs. C visited, we all got to talking about those stupid tests and programs they used to drag Jessie, Elizabeth and me to -- for gifted/talented kids or whatever -- and it's kind of funny to look at where the three of us has ended up. Elizabeth: brilliant, promising, beautiful, active, well-rounded. Jessie: ...well. Not that 'pothead' is all she is, but it has sort of taken over her personality for the time being, and at some point it's going to have to affect her riding. Me: I suppose I'm fair to middling. I'm doing well, academics-wise, but I've got absolutely no ambition. Everytime I think of something I might possibly do, my very next thought is, "But god, I couldn't really do that, I'd hate it." If I become one of those kids with a generic English degree at the end of these four years, well...I suppose I'll have to come up with something.

That took a weird turn for the pensive. Time to go watch more TV. Think I shall get in a full viewing of the Star Wars catalogue before I head back down to SMC. I'll start with the prequels so the original trilogy looks even better by comparison. My head's way too unsettled to attempt writing.

Oh, and Krispy Kreme shares are horrifically down! Stupid low-carb trend! Peak and wane, dammit, peak and wane!