Tag Archives: cars

Where Do I Send the Check?

Posted on March 28, 2013 | 29 Comments

Being a single woman who supports herself and an increasingly needy feline, I’m kind of picky on how I spend my increasingly decreasing money.

I prioritize—general bills, quality food that I want and enjoy and catnip so the hairball will leave me alone while I stare at a blank page on the screen. I don’t buy fancy clothes or makeup, I rarely eat out or party and obviously I don’t have cash to spend on a fancy blog design—or any at all.

Wow. That would be the worst singles ad ever.

With that out of the way, there are some things I will never hesitate to pay someone else to do. These are things I could probably do myself to some extent if I was willing to a) learn and b) pay for it by losing what sanity I might have left.

I can’t afford to lose any more sanity, so instead I just lose a few bucks.

My Taxes

This time of year everyone is buzzing about trying to find their 1099 or WD40 forms or what have you. I am a creative person. I am not a numbers person. All I know about taxes is that the small woodland creatures I keep fed in my back yard cannot count as deductions and that people dressed like Uncle Sam/Lady Liberty holding “Fast Tax Services” signs dominate busy street corners.

Considering the penalty for making a mistake on your taxes isn’t as simple as crossing something out and writing “Oops!” like I do in my checkbook, I’ll gladly pay a trusted professional—not one dressed in a costume—to figure all these things out.

Anything Automotive

Aside from putting gas in my Blazer and scheduling oil changes, I’m clueless when it comes to automotive repair. As a female it pains me to say that because it’s such a stereotype, but it’s true. If there’s a problem that can’t be solved by turning up the radio so I don’t hear the dysfunctional sound it’s making, I’m calling in an expert.

I can’t be trusted to not accidentally triple-knot my shoelaces, so this includes changing a tire.

Cut My Hair

I’ve accepted the fact that my hair’s “awkward phase” has lasted about seven years. Because of that, I’m not above coloring my hair from a box.

But ever since an unfortunate incident when I was six and cut my own hair (and that of our dog,) put it in envelopes and hid it under the couch, I have not gone near my hair with scissors. Considering my hair is lame anyway, it’s worth it to me to pay a lovely woman a few bucks to trim up what’s left and blame her for how it will look.

Anything with My Computer

I have basic computer knowledge in that I can overshare on Facebook, send out email writing pitches that I never hear back from and find pictures of sloths wearing makeup. I cannot do HTML or self-host my blog, and when I receive an error message or my computer freaks out in some way, I freak out in every way.

A phone call is made. A check is written.

Make Sushi

While I’m all about making my own food 99 percent of the time, I don’t understand people who make sushi at home. Okay. I get that it can be fun to have a “sushi rolling party” or whatever, but when I want veggie sushi I don’t want to spend three hours trying to get rice and perfectly sliced veggies to stick to a sushi mat before rolling it up, getting distracted and knocking the roll off the counter.

It will probably cost me three times more in supplies and 100 times more in frustration to attempt this on my own. Plus, when I’m hungry I get cranky, meaning there’s a good chance sharp chopsticks should be nowhere in the vicinity.

However, that tantrum might be worth paying to see.

Like the blog? Buy the Book.

Aside from major medical procedures and house construction, what are the things you never hesitate to pay someone to do?

→ 29 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged cars, computers, food, hair, money, taxes

At the Car Wash

Posted on October 13, 2011 | 21 Comments

I’ve made no secret of my driving pet peeves, but one of the things I find most difficult about operating a motor vehicle is the car wash. In fact, at times I find it down right scary.

First of all, I am slightly claustrophobic. Second, I had an unfortunate car wash incident in my childhood that involved our car getting stuck on the track with the headlights of another vehicle quickly approaching while I freaked out and my mom looked at me with her, “I can’t believe you’re my daughter” face.

You know the one.

Anyway, it starts with the Herculean task of lining my driver’s side wheels up with the tiny track line that leads into the car wash cave. I carefully watch the attendant for direction—he waves me a little to the left, to the right, no! no! back to the left!—before I finally receive his seal of approval, a raising of his hand and a stern nod of his head.

I quickly exhale and regroup before remembering I have to put it in neutral and take my hands off the wheel and my foot of the brake . This poses dual problems for yours truly, as first I am worried that I will somehow run over the attendant as he does the initial rising off of my car.

This has never been an issue in the past, but yet I have this concern.

Once I am confident I will not be dragging said attendant under my car throughout the rest of the rinse, I am expected to believe that even though I can’t see what’s on the other side of the soapy brushes and gushing water, both me and my vehicle are safe.

Evidence would suggest otherwise, as after the initial rinse, the big red things that look like giant bottle cleaners come flying at my vehicle in all their whirling glory. At this point I’m still doing fairly well, considering I’m in a car wash, and comforted by the fact that I like clean cars.

But then the blue things start flying at the sides of my car with such force that my external rearview mirror is shoved forward. Considering I have no control over where I’m going and can’t see through the suds anyway, this really shouldn’t be an issue. However, given my OCD, I have to resist the urge to roll down my window and pull it back into its rightful position.

I stay strong. I resist.

However, at this point I’m begin to freak out a little more because now I’ve got the big red things flying at my windshield, the big blue things flying at both sides of my car and long linguini-like rags slapping at the roof. I’m convinced that I will be the exception, that they will bust right through my windshield and suffocate me in their sudsy stealth.

So despite the fact that nothing except static will come through in the car wash cave, I blast the radio as loud as I can. I think this is somehow supposed to comfort me.

It doesn’t, but planning what I will say to the news reporters who will interview me after my harrowing experience does distract me until the rinse cycle begins.

Around this time I can breathe a little easier, although now I am granted full visual access to my surroundings. This means that the off-kilter mirror is in full view—I still resist—as are any cars approaching me from behind on the track.

Giant dryers threaten to suck me into the car wash cave vortex, but I exhale as I literally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I wait for the blinking red light to turn green so I can perfectly plan the switch from neutral to drive as the track shoves me off. Approximately 2.4 seconds after leaving the car wash cave, I roll down my window and adjust the mirror, with the sight of my car’s clean exterior making the $5 spent all worth while.

Until the first damn bug hits my windshield.

But it could be worse—I could be the bug.

→ 21 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged cars, carwash, cleaning, neurosis

Backseat Driver

Posted on July 16, 2011 | 24 Comments

When it comes to driving, I would say I’m pretty average.

I’ve never been in an accident (insert superstitious knocking on wood here) and have only had one ticket—the story behind that one a post of it’s own. I admit I have my moments and we all know that I’m directionally disabled, but I generally drive rather aware of my surroundings.

With that said, I sometimes feel like 98 percent of people shouldn’t be allowed to operate a vehicle when it’s apparent they can’t operate a turn signal.

Maybe I’m getting old and cranky, but lately I find myself wanting to run people off the road if only so I can get out and school them on the fact that there are two lanes for a reason and speed limits are not beginning points for negotiations.

In other words, if patience is a virtue, I am void of vehicular virtue.

So in the interest of keeping my road rage to a minimum, I present to you a few observations and suggestions to anyone driving with their head up their ass.

If you beep your horn .03 seconds after the light changes green, I can promise I will shut off my car, lay on the hood and feed birds for an hour.
Pulling out in front of me and then proceeding to go ridiculously slow is not excused by the fact that you have those little family people stickers on the back window of your minivan or a WWJD bumper sticker.

WWJD? He would go the speed limit.

However, pulling out in front of me and then proceeding to go ridiculously slow might be excused by the fact that you have a decal or bumper sticker representing a Detroit sports team or love of animals. Go team and go rescue a cat.
While I appreciate caution, there is no need to stop completely when making a 90-degree turn where there’s no stop sign, stop lights or opposite-direction traffic.
However, there is a need for me to sing everything from “Dancing Queen,” to Rage Against the Machine at the top of my lungs. When it comes to car karaoke I’m sort of a professional, so your stares will only encourage my behavior.
FYI: A car is not an invisibility force field that shields you from the general conventions of society. We can see you pick your nose. I don’t know if you lost your keys up there or what and to each their own, but when the intense picking of your honker causes you to forget that green means go, I will honk.

Pick a lane, not your nose.

Finally, if you drive a semi truck, please do not race the semi truck in the lane right next to you, forcing all of us to watch this sad little drama play out. Nobody wins, especially the lines of cars stuck behind you. How’s your driving? Slow and reckless at the same time, a driving dichotomy if there ever was one.

And let’s not forget a couple things in regards to pedestrians—namely me—as I tend to take a lot of walks in the summer and prefer not to fear for my life.

If I’m walking and you’re driving, honking at me and yelling out your window will not encourage me to wave back. It will encourage me to flip you off, as it will scare the shit out of me.

On that note, if you’re talking on your phone as you roll up and through a stop sign and almost run me over, waving, giggling and mouthing “sorry” does not help. One of these times I might just throw myself onto the hood of your car and create a dramatic scene just to freak you out.