So at long last, a photo of my new car…after a few hours of dirt!

flirting with the wrong people


I guess I flirted a bit too much with the wrong person.
I’m really not interested in him at, but feel guilty for feeling like I’ve led him on.
Now when I see him, he is a bit friendlier than I’d like him to be.

I’ll just avoid him for a while…that usually seems to do the trick 😉

In unrelated matters…
I’m totally in awe of ‘s skills.
Although I tend to find his remarks random and a bit odd,
they certainly seem to win over the ladies!

Let’s go camping


So last night Erik suggested that we go camping sometime soon.
I’m looking forward to that.
It seems Erik and I don’t spend much time doing stuff like that together.
I mean, sure we go camping with friends, or go to parties, etc…
But it’s been a long time since we just went and did something like that as the two of us.

Interestingly, our anniversary is coming up in about a month. (3 years!!!)
We spent our first night together as “boyfriends” camping up in the Sequoia National Forest.
Good times…good memories.
It’s probably been since our trip to Baja last year that we last went off and spent time
alone together out in the desert/forest/mountains.

I think we’ve reached a level of comfort where we’re content being around each other,
even if we’re not doing anything all that interesting or exciting. It’s great feeling
that way about someone, but at the same time I’d like to continue sharing new experiences
with him and going on trips together like we used to.



Slinky was a blast, despite drinking too much and not sleeping enough.
Man am I tired…hopefully that triple mocha I just drank will tide me
over until I get home (30 minutes to go!)

I got my new car on Saturday.
It’s beautiful, and it rides wonderfully.
Still need to take pictures so I can show my grandparents.

Had fun scouting for Forest Bump locations, despite scratching up the side of my car.
Surely those can be buffed out…I hope.

Taken from <lj user=”striggy”>


1. Take your LJ username and replace each letter with the corresponding number (A=1, B=2, etc…). (count the letters on your fingers if you’re not sure; that’s what i did.) If your name contains numbers, you’ll need to convert them to letters first before you can convert to numbers. (and i don’t understand that at all.)
2. Add all of the numbers together to create a kind of super number.
3. Make a note of the first digit of this number, then add the digits of the number together.
4. Find the post of this number in your LJ. If you don’t have that many posts, add the digits together again. Keep doing so until the number is smaller than your pathetic number of posts.
5. Take the digit you noted in step 3, and count that many words into the post.
6. Use the resulting word in a Google Image Search, and select a picture from the first page.
7. Post the results for us all to see!

My word is: Etymology



I’m very lucky my grandparents care so much about me.
More than my own parents, I think.
As much as I hated asking them, I did it.

And their answer was yes, without any hesitation.


I feel an immense burden lifted from my shoulders.

Now that I will have a downpayment, I can afford the monthly payments on the Subaru.
I also talked to my dad about co-signing…so my interest rate may even go down.


Big Boy


So I’m halfway through Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris.
I suggest anyone that enjoys humorous narrative essays to pick this up.
Props to him and his toilet humor:

It was Easter Sunday in Chicago, and my sister Amy
and I were attending an afternoon dinner at the home of our
friend John. The weather was nice, and he’d set up a table in
the backyard so that we might sit in the sun. Everyone had
taken their places, when I excused myself to visit the bath-
room, and there, in the toilet, was the absolut biggest turd I
have ever seen in my life — no toilet paper or anything, just
this long and coiled specimen, as thick as a burrito.

I flushed the toilet, and the big turd trembled. It shifted
position, but that was it. This thing wasn’t going anywhere. I
thought briefly of leaving it behind for someone else to take
care of, but it was too late for that. Too late, because before
getting up from the table, I’d stupidly told everyone where I
was going. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I’d said. “I’m just going
to run to the bathroom.” My whereabouts were public
knowledge. I should have said I was going to make a phone
call. I’d planned to urniate and maybe run a little water over
my face, but now I had this to deal with.

The tank refilled, and I made a silent promise. The deal
was that if this thing would go away, I’d repay the world by
performing some unexpected act of kindness. I flushed the
toilet a second time, and the big turd spun a lazy circle. “Go
on,” I whispered. “Scoot! Shoo!” I turned away, ready to per-
form my good deed, but when I looked back down, there it
was, bobbing to the surface in a fresh pool of water.

Just then someone knocked on the door, and I started to

“Just a minute.”

At an early age my mother sat me down and explained
that everyone has bowel movements. “Everyone,” she’d said.
“Even the president and his wife.” She’d mentioned our neigh-
bors, the priest, and several of the actors we saw each week
on television. I’d gotten the overall picture, but natural or
not, there was no way I was going to take responsibility for this one.

“Just a minute.”

I seriously considered lifting this turd out of the toilet and
tossing it out the window. It honestly crossed my mind, but
John lived on the ground floor and a dozen people were
seated at a picnic table ten feet away. They’d see the window
open and notice something dropping to the ground. And
these were people who would surely gather round and inves-
tigate. Then there I’d be with my unspeakably filthy hands,
trying to explain that it wasn’t mine. But why bother throwing
it out the window if it wasn’t mine? No one would have be-
lieved me except the person who had left it in the first place,
and chances were pretty slim that the freak in question would
suddenly step forward and own up to it. I was trapped.

“I’ll be out in a second!”

I scrambled for a plunger and used the handle to break
the turd into manageable pieces, all the while thinking that it
wasn’t fair, that this was technically not my job. Another flush
and it still didn’t go down. Come on, pal. Let’s move it. While
waiting for the tank to refill, I thought maybe I should was
my hair. It wasn’t dirty, but I needed some excuse to cover the
amount of time I was spending in the bathroom. Quick, I
thought. Do something. By now the other guests were proba-
bly thinking I was the type of person who uses dinner parties
as an opportunity to defecate and catch up on my readion.

“Here I come. I’m just washing up.”

One more flush and it was all over. The thing was gone
and out of my life. I opened the door, to find my friend Janet,
who said, “Well, it’s about time.” And I was left thinking that
the person who’d abandoned the huge turd had no problem
with it, so why did I? Why the big deal? Had it been left there
to teach me a lesson? Had a lesson been learned? Did it have
anything to do with Easter? I resolved to put it all behind me,
and then I stepped outside to begin examining the suspects.

Strike 1…Strike 2…


Man cars sure are expensive.

Test drove a Toyota Tacoma today.
It had big wheels, and 4wd.
I wanted it…alas, I wasn’t approved by the dealer’s lender.
And the truck wouldn’t fit in the $20k loan from my credit union.

Scratch the Tacoma.

Attempted a Subaru Outback Sport.
Approved by dealer’s lender, but carpayments come to $511.
That’s rent, yo!

So my mission for tomorrow is either talk my dad into cosigning
or ask to borrow money from him or my grandparents for a downpayment.

Boy do I feel helpless


This whole car situation is seriously stressing me out.
I can’t beleive how fucked up this is…really.

I wish there was somebody I could talk to for advise.
Nobody has any good answers for me.
Thank goodness Erik works in Rancho Santa Margarita
and I was able to carpool with him today.
But even still, he didn’t have any good answers for me.

I guess this is my punishment for not having a very
strong relationship with parental figures.
I don’t have an “adult” figure to turn to for advice
in this matter.
Nobody who’s “been there, done that.”

I know I can get a new car without a problem…
My worry is what to do about the Daewoo.
I still owe $3700.
Nobody will take it as trade-in since it’s broken.
The cost of repairs are most likely $2000 or more.
I can’t scrap it, because I haven’t paid off the loan.
I guess my best bet is to tow it to Long Beach and park
it in my driveway until it is paid off and I can scrap it.

This sucks.

I know I could call my grandparents.
In fact, if my grandmother knew I needed help and didn’t ask her she would be insulted.
She always tells me, if I ever need help with ANYthing
to call.
I hate the thought of asking them for money…
but maybe that’s the solution here?

i hate you daewoo


My car won’t start.
It is currently in the parking lot here at work.

I’m so done with this car.
I wish I could just make it go away.

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