2004-06-09 | 3:30 p.m.
something's always wrong

A national day of mourning? You're kidding right? No mail on Friday? Friday, when my first paycheck in a month is supposed to come? So that I will have to hope it comes Saturday, drag myself into Manhattan (because you know my bank is so not open on Saturday) to deposit it and then wait until Monday to get it. So that I can have another crappy weekend. Thanks, Ron. Still keeping the poor folk down after all these years.

You know, I feel as bad about dead people as the next guy, but he was 93. People die. The world goes on.

In other news, for some reason, when we tried to renew the registration on Ol' Oscar, our inspection confirmation # came up as invalid. I hate. This is all well and good, so long as you have the receipt. We didn't. So we have to have the car re-inspected, which the DMV lady thought was just fine seeing as how the inspection was up next month anyhow. You want to ask her, "Have you seen what year this car is? Do you get that passing inspection isn't easy? Do you understand that an extra $50 isn't just falling out of our pockets? We are driving a 1984 rustbomb." Hate.

This morning, when trying to get the car re-inspected (please note that the registration is up at midnight, thanks) our mechanic's inspection machine was down. We drove an hour out east to try the guy who did it the last two times (who always passes Oscar somehow) and his machine was down.

Oh wait! I forgot the great middle part. In front of our regular mechanic is this "No Parking" zone that everyone ignores. There's nowhere else to park while you are waiting for your car to get took in. After Jack said, "Sorry," I ran to a payphone (cell is off due to poorness) and Dollie ran to get breakfast and when we ran back we had a ticket. No one else did. We did. We are the most legal parkers ever. The one time we don't park like good girls, we end up with an extra $60 tacked on to our breakfast bill.

Yeah, back to the inspection. I know for many of you, having a lapsed registration or inspection isn't a big deal unless you get pulled over. In New York City, the police just routinely drive by and look at stickers all day in a effort to give out more tickets. Thanks, Bloomberg!

So we left Oscar out east with the parents (believe me, we all wished we could have taken a trip to the beach to wait for inspection, but noooo, some people have to work, bleh), who can park him behind their building in the private lot and hopefully avoid the prying eye of the po-po.

We drove Car (a teal 1993 Cavalier station wagon. Please note: we call our Jeep a truck, my parents call their Explorer a Jeep and everyone calls the station wagon Car. Maybe we don't deserve to have vehicles) back to Brooklyn (which took approximately 78 hours. At least there was air conditioning!) Every permutation of getting our car registered and returning all vehicles to their rightful owners seemed wrong.

Dollie headed out to work and I waited. My old man called to tell me the truck was newly inspected and happy as Larry.

The only problem is, our inspection receipt is now in Rockaway and all the other paperwork is in Manhattan. I don't expect you to understand NYC geography, but we're talking about a solid hour on the A train. Great.

We decided to try the mighty fax machine. Sure, it came out all grainy (Thanks for the quality machinery, Jerry!) but maybe they would accept it, somehow.

"Cry if they don't," I advised Dollie, who heroically took a lunch hour from a non-lunch hour workplace in order to wait on line at License Xpress (which lived up to its name). 40 minutes later she called to tell me all was well. The lady she had this time was uninterested in stupid details and unfazed by the fax.

I love this woman. I want to be this woman. Someday, when this woman retires, I hope to fill her shoes (watch, she's 6 years younger than me), to keep the dream alive.

Anyway, when I started typing this story, everything was a horror. Now things are looking up little by little. I'll spend tonight driving back and forth from the Rock, but it could be worse -- at least there won't be that traffic. And at least I will have a legally-sanctioned automobile.

Ooh, maybe I won the MegaMillions. Imma go check.

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2004-06-08 | 10:16 a.m.
I feel like I won the cup

The Stanley Cup final was pretty exciting last night. I only peeked quickly during the game (purposely; for some reason Tampa Bay can't score goals when I am watching) and then I watched the last minute and the Cup ceremonies.

"No hard feelings, Miikka. We just had to win this one. I was trying to impress Jane."

Yes, it was exciting, but not as exciting as when it was us. Remember?

That was ten years ago. Man. I think 2007 is our year. Don't ask why 2007, it just is.

My horoscope today is very odd.

The very last thing you'd ever think possible is about to occur -- right before your very eyes. Resistance is futile. Buckle up and enjoy the ride.

The *very* last thing? Man, I hope it isn't a job, only because I think every job place has my cell phone, and since I have no money, I couldn't pay them and so it is currently shut off. Sad. Maybe they will email. You know today will come and go and nothing at all interesting will happen. Or occur, as they say. But I'm trying to be open to it. I am surrendering to the power of my horoscope. Ooohhhhh!

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