While, looking back, I�m glad that I didn�t make good on my threat to stop paying my car insurance, I have to say that the sentiment behind that declaration has not abated. That sentiment, of course, being frustration. Every day now, I get out of bed and feel the oppressive ties of bureaucratic obligation tangled around my legs. I can�t go forward, I can�t go back; I�m stuck to the same old spot, wondering if today�s the day I�ll be able to put my car in the shop and drive home in a shiny new rental.
Really, I guess the crux of the problem is just that I�m totally lazy, and don�t want to call up a bunch of insurance people and beat my head against the metaphoric stone wall of getting my damages addressed. I just want to have my car fixed, you know? Actually, if I�m going to be brutally honest, I�m kind of hoping that the hidden damages are almost as extensive as the external damages, and that they�ll just, like, give me a new car. Preferably a convertible. Hey, it could happen.
Anyway, I�m sick of going on and on about my bashed-in car, so I�ll just say that I finally think I see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, in the form of my car getting repaired (or replaced!), and that I will possibly have some transportation in the meantime, and leave it at that.
Shifting gears (er�no pun intended), allow me to tell you about my latest addiction. I hate to say it, but due to circumstance, more than anything else, I�ve been unable to watch my beloved/loathed 30 Minute Meals With Mephistopheles -- excuse me, I meant "Rachael Ray" -- as much as I did in the past. In its place, I have discovered a show that I may (please forgive me) love even more: Food Finds.
Seriously? This might be the best show ever. They go all over the country (and sometimes even to the wild, untamed wilderness of Nova Scotia!), scouting out the best local cuisine they can. I mean, that shit is just genius. Everybody loves homemade this and "secret recipe" that, and there�s a certain, undeniable attraction to these cottage industry products that all started when somebody�s grandma finally decided to start selling her prized raspberry tart at the county fair.
Or maybe I�m just weird. But I don�t think so. I want to know where I can order a pie, damn it, and not just any pie! I want the best damn pie in all of North Carolina, or Tennessee (or Nova Scotia!), and I want it just like somebody�s grandma used to make! What I don�t want is one of those funky-looking plum puddings they had on there the other day, that looked like something you might fish out of a clogged drain in a men�s prison. But I guess they can�t all be winners, huh?
Somebody Got Here By Searching For: "cute receptionist" And: ass costume [Hope they found it.] I�m Watching: Angel, and to my distress, I�m just not feeling it like I used to. I�m Reading: I�m on Chapter 10 now! This book is really, really good, and it makes me less sorry that it�s going to take me eight months to finish it.