When it rains, at least you find the rainbow

It's pretty safe to say that my sanity has held on by a thin thread the past month or so.  Truthfully, this year has been trying for me and my friends (some of them have had FAR worse years than me, but I'm the type of person who cares too much, heart on her sleeve, close friends are like family, etc).  Every now and then Murphy's Law comes into play and I start to wonder where the hidden cameras are.

Take Tuesday afternoon for example.

I had big plans for Tuesday night, so I wore my favorite work dress to look classy and fantastic.  I wasn't completely pleased with my hair, but when you're blessed with a lot of naturally curly hair, you learn that it has a mind of its own and you should learn to live with it.  Anyway, I was gearing up for an afternoon of errands.  These errands included a personal trip to bring donations for families who lost everything in wild fires across the state last week.  I drove to one of the burbs, dropped off donations from a coworker, and headed back into the city to finish running errands.

Now, it's kind of a running joke how awful my luck is with cars.  Read this for example. . .

So I'm driving toward the highway and all of the sudden my car doesn't want to keep going.  I've had a few experiences this summer in which I was driving around in the crazy heat and my car was reluctant.  I thought maybe it was the battery being affected by the gross triple digit plus moderate humidity summer.  It usually restarts, but not this time.  I'm in the middle of the road, barely out of an intersection, and I'm kind of panicking.  So I called the troops, got a push from some strangers (and an offer for a push start, which I declined so someone could check out my engine) and start the waiting game.

Well, it was too darn hot to wait outside in a nice, mostly black suit dress, so I went into the nearest shop for A/C.  Turns out it was a natural herb store with a lot of witch references and a robe.  That was weird, but I guess it's quirky and adds to the story.  Suffice it to say, the men folk showed up, tinkered under the hood, tried replacing a part, etc.  I tried very hard to keep a decent attitude (and not have a road side mental break down) and not get crazy and cranky thanks to the heat.  If you know much about how I deal with stress, conflict, and bumps in the road, keeping my mouth in check was quite a feat. 

Two hours after the initial car betrayal I was home to clean up, find a new outfit, go out to dinner and recoup.  My big plans included a show and after party featuring a Broadway legend.  I'll be honest, I was almost so fed up that I wanted to curl up on my couch and reschedule, but I needed to keep moving to not really break down.

The show was AMAZING.  As a dancer and musical theatre lover (I swear my inner monologue is a song and dance) I couldn't help but feel blessed to experience this show.  It was Chita Rivera in concert!  I would say I smiled the entire show, but there was one number that was kind of a crazy song and in my hyper-anxious mood it was almost enough to set me into an attack. (The song is called "Carousel" and was done extremely well.  I think my almost panic attack is a testament to how effectively it showed the emotion of crazy, frantic carousel rides as a metaphor).

 At the after party, I got to meet Chita briefly.  Oh. My. Gosh.  I want to be as vibrant as she is when I grow up.  She literally made my day.  I think that when I'm overwhelmed for the rest of the year I'll just look at this picture and remember how blessed my life really is:

It's the little things.  Seriously though, this is how musical theatre can totally turn your day around.  This woman can move, sing, and fully embrace life at an age when most people are well into retirement.  Truly an inspiration.  So much so, that she really deserves her own post.  Perhaps later, but for now I'm just so grateful for the happy moments that can be the rainbow after the storm.

My Automotive Misadventures: Fall 2011 Edition

Ever have one of those weeks where you are convinced there have to be hidden cameras somewhere?  A week where your life is just too outrageously dramatic and hilarious to not be somehow scripted as a sitcom or dramedy?

About once every six months I have some sort of catastrophic car situation that makes me feel exactly like that is the case in my life.

On Labor Day I was driving down the interstate, smooth sailing, when all of the dashboard lights of death came on.  Calmly, I pulled over to the safest place I could decelerate to.  The "safest place" happened to be in a spot I will forever refer to as the "triangle of death."  This space with that tiny triangle of white caution lines between the interstate and the on ramp.  Translation:  No matter which door I exit out of I run the risk of getting hit by a car going around 65 miles an hour or so, or more.  Since I'm not a big fan of death, I put on my hazard lights, called road side assistance, and got ready to hunker down for a nice hour long wait for a tow truck.

Fortunately, the tow truck arrived in about 15 minutes.  We called for a police officer to direct traffic, but the tow truck beat him.  After getting the car to a garage that was closed for Labor Day and having my best friend's husband attempt a basic diagnosis, nothing was clear except that this car had no intention of starting whatsoever.  The next day, it was pronounced dead.  As in, the engine was locked up and the cost to even tear the sucker down in labor wouldn't be worth fixing.

Rest In Pieces Bessie, aka Old Blue.

Supposedly this car was meticulously cared for until I came along.  I certainly didn't abuse her!  I changed her oil, gave her a new battery, new computer,transmission flush, etc.  Cars close to two decades old just tend to wear out eventually.

In order to maintain my preferred life style of transportation independence and stay within my budget I am driving a car from my Okie family that was set aside for just such inevitable mishaps.  One thing about it though:

That's right:  Manual Transmission.

Now, I've always wanted to learn to drive a standard, and in theory I did actually know how (thanks to lessons from my sorority sister who was the former owner and driver of this car).  It looked like fun, people who drove them were speedy and cool.  In fact, every time I got in a car with someone who drove a standard I gave them a few bonus points of new found respect.  The other thing is though, that when I was learning to drive this bad boy, I had considerable anxiety stopping and starting as well as on hills.  I would only drive with Jenn, anyone else putting in their two cents would make me nervous.  Well, Jenn wasn't around, but her dad was.  It went pretty well, but occasionally he'd talk too much and I couldn't compute what he was saying because all I was thinking was "Shift now?"

So I made peace with it well enough to drive it 10 miles across town and start getting used to my new driving style.  Well, two days later I was still working through stall out panics, upshifting while merging onto a highway, AND I just felt like something wasn't right (and it wasn't not my novice driving). 

Turns out a whole bunch of stuff in the front end was going awry because the wheelbearing needed to be replaced, and hadn't been.

Do I have excellent car mojo or what?  It's like I'm a therapist for cars.  I drive them and all their hidden issues suddenly emerge!

So we get that fixed and I've been driving happily ever after (for the most part) for a week.  Just when I think I'm getting the hang of it, I get lost somewhere and stall out because I'm frustrated, or something else like that.

Lists of reactions to this news from friends and acquaintances:

1) Good for you for learning how to drive a standard.  I couldn't do it.
2) About time you learned how to drive a standard!  (All males have said this, btw)
3) How do you like it?  Would you actually want to keep driving a standard when you get a new car?

I'm still in the love/hate part of this relationship.  Mostly I like it because a) I don't have to depend on anyone else for transportation and b) it really is kind of fun to drive, even though it takes a little more thought.  I don't know if I'm so in love with it that I wouldn't go back to an automatic yet.  We'll have to see if I truly master my driveway of death (so far I've been either parking on the street or gunning it up the driveway so I don't stall out and roll back).  That might have to be the tell tale sign of whether or not I'm ready to call myself a master at driving a standard.

Please remember though drivers, that it is not always necessary to slow down to a  complete stop (or close to one) to make a turn, especially of the right hand variety.  Also, don't pull up super close to the car in front of you at a stoplight.  It might be a neurotic girl just learning to drive a standard who will get really nervous when she can't see your headlights in her rearview mirror.  Be nice!

Safe driving,