What's My Deal, Anyway?

I try too hard. I definitely do. I know this is a subject I have beaten to death (probably) but it really struck me just now as I was taking over over 6 minutes just to post something clever or meaningful on my wall on Facebook. I took at least 10 minutes to write something as a comment to someone's picture. And this is FACEBOOK we are talking about, not the ten commandments. Yet, I panic and freeze, just to type a simple LOL. I then spend the rest of the day worrying that in some realm of possibility my comment will come off bad and I'll end up looking like an asshole. I'm thinking I'm making George Constanza appear less obsessive and neurotic.

I have a feeling if someone for some reason was mentioning me to someone who had never met me their description would be the same, whether they liked me or not; only their inflections and delivery would be different.

EX 1: Person who likes me says in quiet desperation, "Oh she tries too HARD," while squinting the eyes and tilting their head slightly and sympathetically.

EX 2: Person who doesn't like me says more loudly and drawn out, "OH, she TRIIIES TOO hard," while rolling their eyes and rolling their head.

To the people who like me, I know what you mean. For the people who dislike me, I know what you mean, bite me (but still like me).

Anyway, speaking of trying too hard, I visited the place where trying too hard is an art form...the car dealership. Still on the hunt for my new car. Ready for a double whammy? I take Joe and convince him to sign on the loan with me, and lo and behold, we are approved! Call the guy I had been dealing with for the silver Hyundai Tuscon and....it was sold the previous night. God DAMN. In fact my mom had seen another one for sale (almost eerily the same..same year, about same mileage, and so same price. Kinda weird I'd stumble upon not one but 2 within my price range.

The salesman tells me to visit anyway to see what other cars they have but unfortunately I wasn't impressed with anything so today I decided to try my luck elsewhere.

I drove up solo to the Hyundai dealership in Towson, figuring if I were to find another Tuscon I'd have luck at an actual Hyundai dealership. I see one or two, but given the low mileage and young age, I'm doubtful. Still, the salesman asks if he can make it happen would I be interested? I say sure, if the numbers are right. I say off the bat that I have a loan ready and that I'd already done my research, even taken a Tuscon for a test drive before already. He seems to be uncomfortable with my not wanting to jump in for a test drive, so I quickly recover and say, "Um, I mean, sure, why not."

Now, I think the reason I hate the test drive is because I don't feel it's so much a test for the car, as much as a test for you, the driver. I feel like I'm back in driver's ed where every move and hesitation is recorded, and the guy next to me is just sitting in judgement. I glance at all the mirrors and windows at least a half dozen times in a 10 minute test drive. It doesn't help either when he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I'll admit I'm not the best driver, but am I really cringe worthy?

We pull back into the dealership and it begins: the mating dance between salesmen and a possible sale. I am ready for the onslaught, but try to remain cool and unwavering. He explains the pricing and how I am CLOSE but that I'd either A.) have to put more money down or B.) apply for a bigger loan. Well, I don't have more cash than what I can put down and there's no way I'm pushing my luck for a bigger loan, especially if I think I can get a better deal elsewhere.

In the end, he did try. He even offered me a helluva lot more for my Altima than I think it's worth, but still I couldn't attempt to pick up the slack by putting myself in dire financial straits. When I was about to walk out the door he handed my keys and asked if I would wait. I did, thinking, 'here it comes...the big payout..' Instead he merely shook my hand and said thanks for dropping in.

So the search continues. I know you are out there, little SUV with a 4 cyl engine, sun roof, roof rack, 4 wheel drive, 86k miles or less, made by either Honda, Hyundai, or Kia for $9k...but where?

"T-E-M-P", the New Four-Letter Dirty Word

The name of the game is temp, people. I think we are living in a society where the big businesses like banks and car dealerships think that "temp" is the worst of the four-letter words. I can not believe that as great as this job has been for helping me it has also been the worst kind of disability.

As you may or may not be aware, I've been recently on the hunt for a "new" used car ever since I got pulled over by that cop (who, though I know was just doing his job and protects us, blah blah, I hope still gets canker sores for making me deal with this car crap at the worst time).

I ended up having to go to the MVA to get some temporary (there's that word again) registration because my current car won't pass inspection, unless I want to drop a cool grand on fixing everything. The fact that it would only patch up my car to last another year (as in a TEMPORARY fix) or so combined with the fright my car gave me while trying to maneuver through all that snow all culminated in my decision to finally make an upgrade.

I think the last I mentioned all this I was looking at a 2000 RAV4 that I saw on Carmax. Well, that was soo 12 days ago. I was doing a bit more research and stumbled upon a what has the potential to be my dream car: SUV, four door, sunroof, roof rack, silver, great fuel economy, fold-back seats...all on a 2005 Hyundai Tuscon. The greatest thing is the price, a mere $8500 (for what should be valued as a $10,000 car). The catch? I know, and there is one- the mileage. At 84k miles, its not the greatest for a car only 5 years old, but still, it IS a Hyundai, which I'm told is a pretty reliable brand. Besides, I knew I'd have to sacrifice something.

So last week I contacted the dealership and set up an appointment to see the car. I was determined not to be talked into anything too fast, so I kept my poker face even as they took my car keys to inspect my car while I went for the test drive. We came back and I told them flat out what I could afford each month. The salesman went off to do some figuring and returned telling me he'd need some time to work on the deal, and so I left. After the holidays and much discussion with my fam I decided I was seriously falling in love with the car and would go back and try to get it.

When I returned the second time I brought Joe along and he explained that they still couldn't solidify my deal and that he'd contact me the next day. He did so, via text, and asking me questions about my temp job and finally admitting that without written proof that I would become a "full time" employee, they couldn't approve me. Ugh. I texted back that I'd try with my credit union, which I did today.

I sat across this friendly woman who after chatting for a while explained that the credit union would be unable to approve me given that my occupational status is technically "temporary". She suggested I bring along Joe to see if combined we can get approved tomorrow, so I'm trying to be optimistic. But that's probably just temporary as well....

I'll try to post again tomorrow, but if I can't/forget/don't feel like it, I'll see you all next year!

Steer Unclear

Merry Yuletide everyone. Hope everyone got a nice haul of gifts and the gifts they gave were big successes. That is probably the worst part of Christmas: the anxiety that your gifts will either 1.) not measure up to the gifts the recipient gives you 2.) will not be liked by the recipient. Thankfully as far as I know my gifts were well-received and relatively equivalent (whew! Another year down).

But after that anxiety wore off, I was faced with a kind I had not expected- the fear of trying to get home. Allow me to jump back...

Saturday night, Christmas night, my family was settling in for the night, allowing our full bellies to digest while discussing the days' events. When the novelty of that wore off we eventually came around to talking about when both Hill and I would depart for our other homes; Brooklyn and Baltimore, respectively. I mentioned how I was planning on leaving Monday, and my mother mentioned how a snow storm was heading our way on Sunday. I brushed it off as just a mother's worries and her attempt at trying to talk me into staying longer. I would soon be brushing off alot more than her worries.

Sunday came and the day looked a bit overcast, but nothing serious. I had plans to meet up with an old friend and just as I was getting ready, I noticed the skies had opened up and brought down thick fluffy snow. It had started small only briefly, but before I knew it, the ground was covered. Still I brushed off what was on my car and took off for the restaurant.

Now as I'm pretty sure I've established, I'm not the best with directions, even in places I've been too. I know the area my parents live in PRETTY well, so even if I got a little turned around I figured I'd be able to find my way. I am driving along Route 18, a fairly common and well-used highway and notice the snow is getting thicker and slicker. Cars in front of me are driving extra cautiously, barely going much over 35 mph. I glance over to the other side of the highway and spot several bright flashing lights indicating an accident. My stomach, for the first time (but certainly not the last) lurches into my feet, and I begin to doubt my decision to drive anywhere.

I decide to follow the traffic and get off at the first exit, which I am relieved to find leads me to the area I wanted to be in anyway. The roads are getting even more thickly coated with snow and as I pull up to make a right onto another busy highway, I lose control of my car and it begins to slide. I hold my breath but fortunately the traffic is approaching at a snail's speed, and everyone seems to be paying extra attention due to the conditions. I regain control but not my breath. I am genuinely freaked now, and just when I thought it couldn't get worse, my gas light goes off. Again, fortune is smiling because I am very close to a number of gas stations. I pull up to the nearest one, wait as my car shimmies again, and then gently pull up. There is a line of cars leading out to where I am in the highway, but I stay put and wait my turn.

I awkwardly text my friend that I will be unable to make it, and suggest she either get on the road immediately or else wait till tomorrow. When that is said and done, and I have my gas, I decide to simply go home. I begin to follow the traffic once again, but the roads are getting worse and worse, not to mention the complete white-out in front of me. I find the way I need to go has not been touched by plow or tires and so I choose instead to follow the roads more travelled. I soon find myself hopelessly lost in an area I am unfamiliar with. Every turn I make leads to either a detour or a completely snow-covered road. Bridges are closed. Highways are blocked. I lose control of my car one more time (on a bridge) and for a single brief moment I contemplate abandoning my car and hope someone in my family can pick me up. Instead I take few breaths and carefully follow whatever rear lights I can and purposely keep my car at a steady 15-20 miles per hour. At long last, my patience and care pay off as through the thick white curtain of snow I finally recognize my parents' neighborhood and bring my slippery car home.

It will forever be one of the scariest drives of my life.

Have a similar story? Experience some hellish driving conditions? Feel free to post them here for everyone's reading pleasure.

My Christmas Story: A Very Beanie Christmas

Holy hell, I'm finally back in Jersey. I realize I was absent the past TWO days but what can I say, the holidays insist upon it. Still it was glad to see an old friend once more (at Drag Queen Bingo...yep) so it was worth it.

But I do hate leaving things unfinished and so I give you my final Christmas story...

A few years after the Super Van City incident or the Magic Diary debacle I felt I had outgrown alot of my childish wants. I wasn't looking for just toys anymore, I was looking into investing....into toys. My neighbor friend and I found ourselves beginning to collect and research those cute beanie creatures known as Beanie Babies. We had been given them by our families but when we realized that people were actually collecting them we set to work to see what our current ones were worth. Soon we were joining the masses in every greeting card store, obsessively hunting and buying every $5 animal we could, carefully following the guide of which were collectible and which were not. One day we walked into Intrinsic, a hippie head shop (in the mall, of all places), and in their very back EVEN they had a display full of floppy animals, some even encased for protection of their value: a few of the rabbits and a Garcia, the tied-dyed 60s bear- shocker.

It was around this time that my sister Hill was beginning to shop around for colleges to attend, and so on one trip the whole family decided to go. On one stop in Savannah we were walking around and found a collectibles store. We meandered in, looking at all the toys from bygone years and happened upon a display of Beanie Babies. I suddenly piped in like an expert and began to explain to my fellow family members about which ones were worth anything. I must've impressed them enough because they actually not only withstood my blathering but even incited questions for me to answer.

Eventually the months passed and so did the fever for Beanie Baby mania. I still was happy to read about which were collectible but for the most part I could feel my interest beginning to wain, just, as it happens, in time for Christmas. Months prior I had still been all set for nothing but Beanie Babies, so my mother didn't really even have to bother asking what I wanted for Christmas.

The big day came and after we all had opened several gifts my mother handed me another one. It was a Beanie baby. I plastered my fail-safe smile, the same one I had donned all those previous years, and was told that the rest of my new "collection" was everywhere in the room, so I'd have to go and find them. To my mother it was a cute scavenger-hunt idea, but for me, it was the final humiliation to walk around and fain excitement as I plucked each animal from behind pillows or behind sofas. Finally, my family noticed my lack of enthusiasm and asked the loaded question- "what's wrong?"

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe I had done it AGAIN! Why do these obsessions I have disappear the instant I have it in my hands. I felt terrible but thankfully I didn't have to say anything. My family members have been through this ringer a few time now, and so my sisters chimed in, "she doesn't LIKE them anymore!" My mother, also a veteran to this war, simply smiled, rolled her eyes, and said, "Oh..oh well."

I felt like a total ass, but I was grateful my family could make light of it and rather than crucify me angrily every year henceforth about my fickle Christmases, merely crucify me with jokes and quips. I hope I have grown out of this phase...after 20-something years. But you never know. "Oh, did I say I WANTED an iPad?....ummmmm"

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my tour of the Gifts of Christmas Passed, and hope you have a great holiday, full of embarrassing tales and horror stories about gifts, family, and travel. I'll be back to relate mine sometime next week. Till then, Merry F-ing Christmas everyone!

My Christmas Story: My Magic Diary

Time passed and I became, what I thought was, more sophisticated in my gift-choosing. I felt I had grown beyond just regular toys. Toys were for little kids. I wanted something hip. I wanted something technological. I wanted....a diary.

Not just any diary- the most modern diary that was ever created (at least for the mid 90s). It's been so long since I really tried to remember it, but I assume it did record your thoughts by typing on the keyboard. However, the coolest feature of the thing was claimed to be an address book for storing your friends and family's info AND you could customize a digital image of that person to go with it. It was the most mind-bending technology I had ever encountered...and I wanted one BAD.

SO again, I badger my poor beleaguered parents to get me this thing for Christmas. I tell them it won't be like Super Van City. This is a useful device, not some silly toy. I could use it for school as well as an organizational tool. I'm not sure how I hooked them, but eventually Christmas came and I found myself once again being nudged in the direction of a small wrapped package.

I ripped open the paper, and it had returned...that worrisome pit in my stomach that told me I had just wasted yet ANOTHER Christmas on a gift that wasn't going to last longer than our Christmas tree. I once again plastered the happy and grateful smile on my face as my dad fumbled for batteries. I probably got the first hint that this was a bad gift for me when it required a screwdriver just to open the back and put in the batteries.

Dad handed it back to me and I began flipping through the instructions as to all the things it could do. As I said, I forget alot of these, but I was still mesmerized at the thought of being able to create a doppelganger for for friends and family. So I went to that chapter and began playing with it. After what felt like an eternity I had only completed one person's cartoon-like face. I was getting frustrated that the image didn't look EXACTLY like the person. I decided instead to focus on the basic commands, but as I flipped through the manual I found myself spending more time scratching my head and reading that anything else. I began to find that in the case I need to jot something down or had a thought I never had My Magic Diary nearby or close at hand. Soon, I began to forget all about it entirely, until my parents began to ask what had become of it.

"I'm, um, not sure. Must be around here somewhere," I said sheepishly. Then while rustling through one or the junk drawers my mom finds it and asks me why it's there.

"Don't you like this thing anymore?" she asks. I didn't really have the heart to tell her it's novelty wore off faster than Fruit Stripe Gum's flavor. I tried to play it off, but before long my parents began the running joke of calling any gift they say impractical or useless as the "My Magic Diary."

"Oh you want that? Aw this isn't going to be another 'My Magic Diary' is it?" they'd ask, stifling aggravation first but then blossomed in a good laugh at my expense. I never really did live that one down. From then on, whenever I was looking for a pen in the junk drawer or cleaning out my closets, there it would be. I'd pick it up and see if I could get any of that excitement back that I had for it originally. Instead I would either find myself staring down at a face that was supposed to resemble a friend or else getting frustrated that I need a screwdriver.

Still, as history forever repeats itself, so do I and my Christmas gift obsessions. Read all about The Beanie Baby Incident tomorrow.

My Christmas Story: A Tale of Super Van City

You get the reference right? Ralphie and the BB gun? I had a Christmas like that- gently hinting to my parents about a specific toy I was gunning for, and then when subtly failed having to convince them that it WAS a great toy and perfectly fine for me to have.

In fact, I have had a few Christmases like that. The main differences however in my situations and Ralphie's was that in the end mine didn't exactly end in a happy ending. Instead, they have become the cornerstone to every Christmas gathering with my family, a retelling as traditional as "The Night Before Christmas". So pull up some eggnog and sip a chair...this is the Tale of Super Van City.

Back when Beck and I were kids she used to show me her massive Matchbox car collection. Sound odd for a girl to be interested in cars? Not really. See, Beck's dad was in the car business so she basically grew up around cars and learning much about them. For me, I tended to be more interested in finding a car my Barbie could fit in, but since none of these little cars would do I simply liked to listen to her describe the cars and play with the real opening and closing doors. The more we played with them the less I was focused on Barbie. We especially liked the kind that you could wind up and watch go. My fascination in these "boys toys" emerged enough that year that I was hooked by a commercial for a specific toy: Super Van City.

It wasn't just that it was an entire city that unfolded, complete with road signs and small businesses. It wasn't just that the cars were teeny. It wasn't just that the whole thing folded up into a neat van-shaped carrying case. It was because it was ALL of that. Plus, as we all know, I am pretty much a sucker for any good commercial. I HAD to have this toy, as far as I was concerned. I saw myself impressing Beck by bringing it over, and we could reenact dramatic scenes that required cars...and a city. I was all about it, so when my parents asked what I'd like for Christmas, I said with full certainty- "Super Van City!"

And so the weeks went by with brunches with Santa and school Christmas parties, all the while I kept hoping that this toy that I had build my Christmas around would deliver. At long last, Christmas morning came and when it was my turn to open something my parents excitedly guided my hand to one particular box. I giddily tore open the wrapping and paper, and there it was.....hmmmm.

I put on a bright smile to please my parents, but for some reason the magic felt gone. My dad offered to help me put it together and as we were doing so I felt it- the first pangs of Christmas regret. We opened it up and it did look cool for a little while. But soon I found my interest waining, even giving it over to my little brother to play with instead of me. My parents caught me shuffling the gift away and noted my change in attitude.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy with what Santa got you?" they asked.

I could feel the lump of tears beginning to well, sad that I had foolishly wasted a Christmas gift on something I didn't really even want anymore, and scared to tell my parents. Eventually, I finally broke out, "I don't think I want it anymore..."

The look on my poor parents face must have been the closest thing to murder I'd ever see. After I had been so adamant about getting it, convincing them that I would love it and play with it all the time, and then to be done with it after 10 mins must have been a harsh blow.

As a little time passed and I watched how much fun my brother had with it I did begin to play with it a bit. But the initial magic of the thing was gone the second I pulled the wrapping paper off. Unfortunately for my parents and me (then and now) I never did quite learn my lesson. Hence, a few years later...with My Magic Diary...

RAV4nia Dreamin'

Wow, did I feel alot better about life today. I placed my new Maryland plates in the back windshield of my car and was therefore able to drive myself to work. Then I get to work and find my boss is out so we could be a little lax. Finally it starts to snow and my fellow fremps and I decide we ought to leave before it gets too bad, so I get to leave work a tad early.

However, I wouldn't be me if I was too Sally Sunny. As I got in my car and began the drive home I noticed not a single plow had come by the roads, not a single speck of salt on the gravel. Maybe I'm thinking too much about what that mechanic said but now I'm kinda petrified that my car is going to spin out of control in such conditions, so I ride my brake practically all the way. I actually do pretty ok. I hit a few patches of slick snow that made my tires lurch but I recovered quickly. The only time I freaked a little was when I was making my way down the home stretch and I felt my car start to swerve uncontrollably. I had gotten a little too relaxed I guess and suddenly I was fighting with my car to keep it from careening into the cars next to me.

I finally make it home without another incident but it has officially started me thinking about trading in the old girl for something newer. Bigger. SUV-er. I know there's probably no chance I'd be able to find one 1.) around my area 2.) with low mileage 3.) of a later year 4.) and most importantly, well within my price range. My dream car right now would be a RAV4 or a CRV, but the only problem is, they seem to be alot of people's dream car, hence their rarity in the Used Car section. Even most car reviewers seem to agree at their all-around perfectitude. Plus it doesn't help that all I can really offer is my clunker and about $500 (oh yeah, and a crappy credit score). Ah well, at the very least it gives me something new to research at work.

Anyway, think I'll leave you with that for tonight- those last two posts were a bit on the lengthy-side, so I'll keep this one short. Stay tuned for next week's posts- My Very Own Christmas Stories, in which each night I shall regale a story about a Christmas in which there was one particular gift I HAD to have...and then what happened when I finally got it and the Christmas magic wore off. Have a good and safe one, and do me a favor NOT be in the stores on Sunday, as I am going to kill myself when I finally begin my Christmas shopping, uuugh.