This week I am stuck driving Max's car. It is in serious need of repair so he took mine on his business trip. Does that make sense? Not really.
Let's just say it's been a comical adventure dealing with mechanics, alternators, bolts in tires and driving through mountain passes in the middle of the night. The end result is that he has my big, safe, SUV (yes, I still drive an SUV and I'm proud of it!!) while I am stuck with his car that could die any minute while the mechanics mull over the computer print out and try to get correct car parts delivered to their shop.
I believe that tomorrow (Thursday) I am supposed to take his car, drop it off (how will I get home?) and they will finally get it fixed. We can hope.
The whole point of this lengthy story (you should be glad I didn't fill in all the details) is that his radio doesn't work. It's too bad because he has Sirius Radio and I could have really enjoyed this week of listening to Broadway and Elvis... as it is, I'm stuck listening to myself. When I am not singing along, I have a gazillion things running through my brain!! Here's a couple of my random thoughts: (many of them are centered on driving since I think about them when I'm behind the wheel)
*~* Living in the land of Florin where there is a university can be dangerous. Imagine living somewhere where there could be 12,000 young people under the age of 21 driving on the roads. Many of these people have never in their life driven on icy/snowy roads. Most have only been driving a few short years and don't have much experience behind a wheel. It's truly scary.
*!* The most dangerous parts of town are the Walmart parking lot and the grocery store that is closest to campus. We have had many close encounters with young drivers who laugh and speed off as they barely miss you. Seriously, if you go during the "peak hours" (3:00 p.m. to closing) your life is at risk.
*#* Teenage boys. I don't understand them. There is a girl's choice semi-formal dance coming up on Valentine's Day. Buttercup and her friend invited two boys that are friends. It's a whole friend/group thing (it's not romantic). One week ago, Buttercup created her cute invitation. She got a t-shirt from Walmart and wrote a bunch of girl's names on it with washable markers. Then she wrote her name on it in permanent marker. She attached a poem, "Will you go to the Sweetheart dance with me? Wash the shirt to see who your date could be!"
To ask her date, her friend got a box of Lucky Charms cereal and carefully opened it up. She took out all the marshmallows and sealed it back up. She wrote on the box, "I'd be the 'Luckiest' girl alive if you'd go to the dance with me! (If you say yes, I'll give you back the marshmallows!)"
Well, the very next day, the friend's date replied with a note saying something like, "I'll be the luckiest guy if I can go to the dance with you. Yes."
Buttercup was excited to see how her date would respond. She waited. We waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened during the week, so surely (we thought) he'd respond over the weekend.
Okay, at school on Monday, surely he'd at least talk to her.
At this point, Witch Valerie is pondering what curses and spells she can cast on this boy. Come on!! If he doesn't want to go, then at least he should tell her so we can find another date!!
Buttercup's friend talks to her date and tells him that his friend really needs to respond. He knows, he tells her, but he just keeps forgetting.
FINALLY, TODAY (exactly a week later) this boy walks up to her in the hall and says, "Oh yeah. I'll go with you."
I could shoot him (obviously I won't).
*^* Here's what I have to say: Moms of sons, PLEASE make sure that if your boy is asked to a dance that he responds. It doesn't have to be cute and clever. But it has to be an answer! (Even if your son isn't even close to dating age.... remember what I said!)
*+* This reminded me of the time in high school I asked a boy to go to a dance. I didn't do anything clever, I just walked up to him and asked if he'd like to go. His response was, "I'll get back to you," and he never spoke to me again. Seriously. NEVER. AGAIN.
*?* I love taking dinner to people and tonight I had the opportunity to feed my next door neighbors. I have decided that the next time I'm not really liking myself, I'm taking food over to them. When they finished the meal, they called my house and every single member of the family talked to me on the phone, gushing about how good the food was and how much they loved eating it. By the time I hung up, I was smiling and I felt like a fancy restauraunt chef who had created a masterpiece. It was only lasagne! They are good people.
*=* Inigo asked me what snowflakes were made out of. Instead of giving some big long scientific answer, I just asked him what he thought they were made out of. He said, "Frozen water... AND FEATHERS!"
You're really wishing Max's car had a radio. Aren't you?