At around 3 AM, I woke up in a panic because I thought I made a poor decision. The thing is that it wasn’t even a MAJOR life altering Audrey Raines will die, kind of decision, nevertheless I was up for a good 20 minutes trying to figure out what I wanted to do over the next three and a half years. It’s not like three and a half years is a particularly long time, but by the end of that time span I will be 25. Then I go and think back to my youth (which was like 2 years ago) and remember how I used to picture my life at 25. Married. With Children. Then I laugh maniacally because that’s the dumbest shit ever and go back to my dream of being chased around Crossgates Mall by some maniac.
Dreams about Crossgates make me homesick but not so homesick that I’m now uber-excited to head up there, but excited enough to say “whoot Albany” and do a little jig. But then again, I kind of have to go home so that my busted ass disgusting car can get fixed, because the duct tape isn’t working out too well. Which leads me to call my mother to tell her that I called her mechanic (it’s a mechanic on wheels that comes to you whenever and it’s the best thing since sliced bread), and she asks how I got his number and I’m all like “This fabulous thing called the INTERNET”.
Moving on now to dealerships and why I hate them and now I have to (maybe) go to one to get my fucking car fixed. My last foray into car dealerships ended with me leaving abruptly and the geeky car salesman guy, who was terrible beyond comprehension, tried to hit on my friend. After I did the abrupt leaving because I hated the stupid Xterra anyway and the RAV 4 was so pretty, he a) followed me over to the next dealership (they were on the same property) and b) called me twice thereafter to see if I gave my friend his card and whether or not she was going to call him. So now I just don’t do car dealerships, lest I’m trying to find a date WHO STILL LIVES WITH HIS MOTHER and couldn’t sell a car to save his life.
Oh, by the way, I’m now completely convinced that Paula Abdul was dropped on her head a few dozen times thereby rendering her mildly retarded and attracted to every male idol contestant ever, specifically those who sing Train horribly and have disgustingly long hair.