Yep

“Service engine soon” means “replace engine soon.” I now have a “new” one in my vehicle.

This Little Light of Mine

I have a mystery light in my SUV. The light calls itself “service engine soon.” It comes and goes. The owner’s manual says it does not mean that a breakdown is eminent, but that I should take the vehicle to a certified mechanic as soon as possible. This must be code for: “Mitshitbishi isn’t listing the possible problems in the owner’s manual because one of our local service department’s wants this to be an extra special surprise. Bring lots of cash with you.”

Since the light comes on at no particular time and stays on for no consistent length of time, I’m not really sure if I actually do need to service the engine soon.

Because I’m cheap and skeptical, you’ll probably see me along the roadside one day soon waiting for a tow truck. I will hate you if you honk and wave at me.

Timely and Amusing

Neither timely nor amusing, but we all have to have our schtick. Right? I guess three months is a sufficient amount of time to sulk in depression and stress.

Update:

Doing the Atkins thing again, I think this is the third or fourth time I have decided to subject myself to this torture. 8 pounds, that’s all. If I can loose 8 pounds and keep it off, I’ll be okay with my weight.

Echo the cat is morbidly obese. I’m making him diet. He’s gaining weight instead of losing. I think he is weighing in at 21 pounds right now. I need to post a photo of him so you can be as disgusted as I am at his size. Any day I’m expecting to come home and find him dead.

Longhorns defeating the Trojans. I think that win brought me more joy than the Tigers beating the Hurricanes.

The luteyland includes for the links and archived posts are not pulling into site pages. I don’t see any obvious reason for the break. Tarnation!

Friday the 20th

I’m breaking everything I touch today.

My Mac unexpectedly shut down while I was working in the most tempermental software program I have. Now I can’t get back into the program because of a damaged “resource fork.” Now I have to wait until someone from computer support can come re-install the software.

There is one electric pencil sharpener on the floor I work on. I use it maybe once every few months. I went to sharpen a pencil today. It started to sharpen and then it started making a funny noise. My pencil is not sharpened. The pencil sharpener no longer works.

The check oil light came on in my vehicle. The owner’s manual says if the light comes on and the oil level is okay level that the vehicle should be taken immediately to an authorized service center. My vehicle has oil in it. The fine print in my manual says to stop by the bank on my way to the mechanics and take out a large loan.

Crap, the Real Kind

Herb, our old nasty tabby, lives on the back porch. We make him stay there most of the time because he’s old and nasty. His old, nasty habits include vomiting and crapping outside of the litterbox.

He developed these bad habits last year. He was sick. Lost a lot of weight. The vet couldn’t figure what was wrong with him. We sort of expected him to die. The vet put him on a “chicken should be the main ingredient” diet. It has been a slow process, but Herb has bounced back.

He doesn’t throw up very often any more. For awhile it was once a day. It’s been months since his last vomit.

The crapping whenever and whereever is the bigger issue. He’ll go a couple weeks deligently using his litter box. Then one day, SPLAT! Just for the hell of it, he’s crapped whereever he happened to be standing.

For this reason, he’s only allowed to come into the house on supervised visits.

Lately, he’s been pretty good about using the box. I can’t remember when he had his last “acccident.”

So, this past weekend, we decided it was time to throughly clean the back porch. I’d been cleaning up messes as they happened. But it’s not easy to thoroughly clean Herb’s liqui-poo off the concrete. Stains had built up over the last year. So, Saturday we rented a pressure-washer and de-stained the porch.

I was confident Herb would be thrilled. Clean porch, clean litter box, clean lounging areas. What more could a cat ask for?

Well, the answer to that is “crap.”

Bright and early Easter morning, Herb crapped on the porch. He crapped right next to his clean litter box.

Pathetic

So, the office I work for has a “motor pool”–for lack of a better term. It consists of three vehicles. A white mini-van (only videographers and photographers can use it), a white malibu (the dream machine), and car-du-jour (run away, run away).

Car-du-jour changes frequently. In general, you can bank on it being unreliable. Walking is preferable to getting behind the wheel of car-du-jour. It has been known to leave its occupants stranded.

You may ask, “what is involved in stranding?” Stranded means, the radiator may explode, a wheel may fall off, or it may catch on fire. Yes, all of these things have happened with little or no warning from car-du-jour. Today it may run without incident, tomorrow it will be towed to a junk yard. It will be replaced by a car of equal or lesser reliability.

The current car-du-jour is a green mini-van. We have had this vehicle less than a week. Today I had a 1:30 meeting I needed to drive to. At 1:15 I make my way to the front office to check out the Malibu. Another person checked out the Malibu only moments ahead of me. Lucky me, car-du-jour is ready for action. Reluctantly I check out the keys and make my way to the van.

There are three keys on the key ring. The mental red flags are raised. I’ve never quite understood why some car manufactures like to give you a separate key for each lock on the car. All I need is one. I don’t care if the fob is square or round, plastic or metal as long as it works in all of the vehicle’s locks.

As I make my way to the van, I’m fully preparerd for the first key I slip into the lock not to work. And, of course, it doesn’t work. When the second key doesn’t work, again I figure it’s just my luck. I’m a bit stunned when the third and final key on the ring does not unlock the door.

Hhhmmm, obviously I must have used one key twice. I am careful this time. I keep track of each key so that it is only used once. Again, key one–NO. Key two–NO. Key three–NO. I delve into the definition of insanity and go through the entire process one more time. No. No. No.

I return to the building. Talk to our Office Administrator.

ME: None of these keys unlocks the van.
OA: Did you try all of them?
ME: Yes. Is there a trick to unlocking the door?
OA: Put the key in the lock and turn it.
ME: That’s what I did.
OA: You didn’t turn it in the correct direction. Turn it to the right.
ME: I tried turning the keys in both directions. Nothing worked.
OA: And you tried all the keys?
ME: Yes.
OA: Let me go try.

So we walk out to the van. OA puts a key in the lock, turns it. It opens. Laughter insues.

So, I assume that I obviously was not as careful using each of the keys as I thought I was. I drive off to my meeting. Don’t give it another thought.

Now it is post meeting. I make my way to the parking lot. It is now raining outside. I don’t have an umbrella. I walk out to the van, put a key in. Nothing. I try key two. Nope. I try key three. Nuh-huh.

Anger begins to boil within me. I try each key again. You know the drill. Still nothing. I’m beginning to get soaked now. Perhaps I’m not getting good enough leverage. I put my purse and notepad down in the puddle at my feet. I’m trying each key and attempting to turn it with both hands. Nope, not gonna open.

I return to the building and call OA.

ME: Are you sure there isn’t a trick to unlocking the door?
OA: //laughter//
ME: Come on, you’re certain, there’s no special jiggly thing you have to do with key.
OA: Do you want me to drive over and unlock the car for you?
ME: No, I’m pretty sure I can do it myself. I just wanted to make sure I’m not missing some trick.
OA: Just put the key in and turn it. I can drive over…
ME: No, I’ll get it.

I make my way back to the van. It is still raining. I go through each of the keys again. The lock just will not budge. I’m using so much force, I worry that one of them is going to snap off in the lock. My fingers are red. A blister is beginning to form. A FREAKIN’ BLISTER IS FORMING!

I give up on the driver side door. I go to the passenger side. No. No. No. I try the lock in the sliding door. No. No. No. AAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I return to the driver side. Still nothing. I’m standing in the rain. With three keys in my hand. I’m just about ready to break a window, I’m pretty sure I can pop the lock that way. I just happen to see a co-worker, R.B., walking through the parking lot. So I yell out for assistance. R.B. ambles over, hands me her umbrella, takes the keys from me, and unlocks the door.

I’m relieved and devasted at the same time. How can it be that I cannot unlock the door after hundreds of attempts? No one else is having this problem!

As I return to the building, others have already been alerted to my pathetic adventure with car-du-jour.

My ego is shattered. I have a blister to remind me of my adventure.

Mmm, Mmm, Good

I’m eating a tub of cottage cheese for lunch today. That’s right, I said tub not bowl. I love the creamy, chewy, squeaky goodness of cottage cheese. My brand of choice is Kleinpeter. When I eat it, I feel like I’m doing my part to help the local economy while endulging in a culinary delight. Plus it’s so easy, remove lid, peel protective plastic, pour in salt, pour in pepper, stir, enjoy.

Now that you know what’s on the menu today, I can proceed with the actual post.

I “sparred” children in karate Saturday. I broke down. Some of the children weren’t so small. And they were agressively waving their little hands and feet in my general direction. The break down came on slowly. It started with thoughts like, “uh-oh if that kick was 18 inches closer it could hit me in the nose” and then it progressed to “holy crap this little girl is trying to deface me, no matter how far I try to turn away from her, she keeps aiming for my nose.”

When I started shaking uncontrollably, I decided to dismiss myself from class. I proceeded directly to the women’s restroom and locked myself in before I let the water works commence. The tears erupted and then subsided just as quicly as they came on. It was the shaking that wouldn’t go away. I swear I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. It took me several minutes before I could stand without fear of my knees giving out on me.

I could hear Lefty outside the door, she and Sa Bu Nim were concerned that I’d been hit in the face. No, it’s just me being a weeny. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to spar again. SBN thinks he’ll be able to ease me into it. Unless he can teach me how to spar from the fetal position, I’m thinking it won’t happen in this life time.

WTK, if you read this, you can’ t be upset with me…they were only children.