The Tina Chronicles
Truce
I had a very serious conversation with my brother yesterday and I think it might've done some good. He wasn't such a jerk afterwards (I didn't say he was nice, just not as mean).
When the two girls that have their prom this weekend came over with their mom to pick up their dresses, he wasn't completely horrible (although he did keep hitting on their mom, but she didn't mind so I guess it's not that bad). I was happy with his not so horrible behavior and I was even more happy when I got a check for $2,500 ($1,000 per dress and $500 for the alterations I had to make because they decided to go anorexic and lost a few pounds). Working my ass off pays well.
After they left, my brother asked if he could use my car. I told him no, and he didn't try to steal my car again (I think it was because I told him I was serious about reporting the car stolen if he pulled another crazy stunt). He kept asking every five minutes, but he didn't act upon his desire to drive my shiny new Jag and lock me in the closet or something.
When Indy came home from work, it was a little awkward. My brother didn't remember Indy from the night before (because he had been drunk and didn't even remember coming home) so it was a bit of a shock to him when Mike heard keys jingle and Indy came through the door. At first I thought my brother was going to get up and attack Indy, but he just stayed sat back down when he saw me give him a dirty look while I was standing with a knife in my hand because I was cooking.
I was worried about leaving my brother alone in my apartment since we were going to midnight showing of the new Indiana Jones movie (awesome). Around seven, my brother called a cab and went who knows were but said he'd probably be home late. That made me free to enjoy my night at the movies with Indy. I loved the movie (Indy going in full Indiana Jones gear and looking smoking hot added to the wonderful movie watching experience).
Of course, we got home, and my brother was nowhere to be found. I called him a few times just to make sure he was still alive and him sending me to voice mail after two rings was a sign that his finger was still working (therefore, proving he was alive). Indy and I fell asleep on the couch and heard Mike stumble in at about four o'clock in the morning. He was drunk again. I couldn't help but think there might not be a witness he needed to talk to and that he came here for some other reason (possibly to get away from his wife, kids, and work to party). Whatever the reason, I need to find out.
When the two girls that have their prom this weekend came over with their mom to pick up their dresses, he wasn't completely horrible (although he did keep hitting on their mom, but she didn't mind so I guess it's not that bad). I was happy with his not so horrible behavior and I was even more happy when I got a check for $2,500 ($1,000 per dress and $500 for the alterations I had to make because they decided to go anorexic and lost a few pounds). Working my ass off pays well.
After they left, my brother asked if he could use my car. I told him no, and he didn't try to steal my car again (I think it was because I told him I was serious about reporting the car stolen if he pulled another crazy stunt). He kept asking every five minutes, but he didn't act upon his desire to drive my shiny new Jag and lock me in the closet or something.
When Indy came home from work, it was a little awkward. My brother didn't remember Indy from the night before (because he had been drunk and didn't even remember coming home) so it was a bit of a shock to him when Mike heard keys jingle and Indy came through the door. At first I thought my brother was going to get up and attack Indy, but he just stayed sat back down when he saw me give him a dirty look while I was standing with a knife in my hand because I was cooking.
I was worried about leaving my brother alone in my apartment since we were going to midnight showing of the new Indiana Jones movie (awesome). Around seven, my brother called a cab and went who knows were but said he'd probably be home late. That made me free to enjoy my night at the movies with Indy. I loved the movie (Indy going in full Indiana Jones gear and looking smoking hot added to the wonderful movie watching experience).
Of course, we got home, and my brother was nowhere to be found. I called him a few times just to make sure he was still alive and him sending me to voice mail after two rings was a sign that his finger was still working (therefore, proving he was alive). Indy and I fell asleep on the couch and heard Mike stumble in at about four o'clock in the morning. He was drunk again. I couldn't help but think there might not be a witness he needed to talk to and that he came here for some other reason (possibly to get away from his wife, kids, and work to party). Whatever the reason, I need to find out.
Day 2 of $h*t
So, I got home last night from work, and there still was no sign of my brother. I called, he didn't answer. I'd call again, then he's send me to voicemail two seconds later. Obviously, he was seeing me calling and was ignoring my phone calls. I was getting more and more pist by the second. I seriously considered report the car as stolen, but I refuse to stoop down to Mike's level.
I waited and waited and at 3:28 AM, the door finally opened. I tried not to completely lose it, but when my brother passed by me and he smelled like pure alcohol, I lost it.
First of all, why the fuck had he locked me out and locked me out on the balcony in the first place. He had asked me if he could use my car, and I had told him no. I had to go to work so obviously, I needed my car. Taking my car and locking me out could've made me late for work or made me miss it completely. If it weren't for Indy, I would've probably been locked out there until Mike got home. Even then, I'm pretty sure he still would've left me out there. It was an immature an stupid thing to do. He's a 36 year old lawyer for God's sake. He can't keep pulling shit like that. And I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm 20 and I feel I'm more responsible than he is sometimes.
Second of all, he told me was going to go see a potential witness. As far as I'm concerned, he didn't see any potential witness. He was out for eight and a half hours and he was completely wasted. He went out to get drunk with my car that I needed to use to get to work.
Third of all, he was driving completely drunk in my new car. It is my car that he used without my permission (more like stole) and was putting it danger because he was intoxicated.
I was pist. I started trying to talk to him and tell him how stupid and immature he was acting. All he did was laugh (that stupid drunk laugh) and stumble to the guest room. He clumsily crawled into bed and passed out a few seconds later. This was ridiculous.
This morning, I made sure to be extra quiet when I got up to go to school. I plan to go in there with a pot in a few minutes and hit it with a spoon and bang it right next to his head. That ought to wake him up. I know it's a bit immature, but that's the best way to wake him up that I can think of and get the message across that I'm pist (and I'm pretty sure he'd do that to me too for no reason if I were hung over... actually I think he might've done it to me before).
I need to make it very clear to him that he's being a jackass and that he needs to grow up and not treat me like crap all the time.
The good thing is that Indy left me a surprise on the table. Two tickets to the midnight showing of the new Indiana Jones movie. Exactly what I wanted to do.
I waited and waited and at 3:28 AM, the door finally opened. I tried not to completely lose it, but when my brother passed by me and he smelled like pure alcohol, I lost it.
First of all, why the fuck had he locked me out and locked me out on the balcony in the first place. He had asked me if he could use my car, and I had told him no. I had to go to work so obviously, I needed my car. Taking my car and locking me out could've made me late for work or made me miss it completely. If it weren't for Indy, I would've probably been locked out there until Mike got home. Even then, I'm pretty sure he still would've left me out there. It was an immature an stupid thing to do. He's a 36 year old lawyer for God's sake. He can't keep pulling shit like that. And I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm 20 and I feel I'm more responsible than he is sometimes.
Second of all, he told me was going to go see a potential witness. As far as I'm concerned, he didn't see any potential witness. He was out for eight and a half hours and he was completely wasted. He went out to get drunk with my car that I needed to use to get to work.
Third of all, he was driving completely drunk in my new car. It is my car that he used without my permission (more like stole) and was putting it danger because he was intoxicated.
I was pist. I started trying to talk to him and tell him how stupid and immature he was acting. All he did was laugh (that stupid drunk laugh) and stumble to the guest room. He clumsily crawled into bed and passed out a few seconds later. This was ridiculous.
This morning, I made sure to be extra quiet when I got up to go to school. I plan to go in there with a pot in a few minutes and hit it with a spoon and bang it right next to his head. That ought to wake him up. I know it's a bit immature, but that's the best way to wake him up that I can think of and get the message across that I'm pist (and I'm pretty sure he'd do that to me too for no reason if I were hung over... actually I think he might've done it to me before).
I need to make it very clear to him that he's being a jackass and that he needs to grow up and not treat me like crap all the time.
The good thing is that Indy left me a surprise on the table. Two tickets to the midnight showing of the new Indiana Jones movie. Exactly what I wanted to do.
Trouble Already Started
My brother is a jerk. He really is. What the hell made me think he'd actually be nice to me.
I went to the airport a little early to eliminate the chance of me being late so he wouldn't get mad at me. When I first saw him, I ran up to give him a nice big hug. He just stood there straight as a stick, and tapped me on the back. It was one of those I'm tapping you on the back because I don't want to hug you type of taps. I tried to ignore it and helped him with his bag. He lightened up a little when he saw my car and actually talked to me the whole time we were in it (of course, the conversation was only about the car and all the buttons and features it had).
When we got out, he looked at the car and stopped. He accused me of selling the Audi and a whole bunch of other. I explained to him that I had gotten into a car accident and then he thought I probably caused it on purpose so I could get a new car (and he wasn't joking either). Yes, of course I made a bus swerve into me and push me in the way of a pick up truck just so I could get a new car. The conclusion, giant gash in my arm, and smashed leg was just an added bonus. (I can't believe he had the nerve to say a stupid thing like that.)
We got upstairs and I showed him around and told he was going to stay in the guest room. I gave him his space and let him unpack while I put the final few beads into the prom dresses (damn girls decided to go anorexic for a week and loose a few pounds which meant I had to make a few alterations). He came down half an hour later and asked me for my car keys because he had to go meet up with the potential witness. I told him I'd be happy to drop him off but he couldn't take my car because I had to go to work (yes, I'm finally back at work at the restaurant) and I needed my car to get there.
He said he understood and told me he was going to get a cab. Two seconds later, when I was close to the door to the balcony, he pushes me through it and locks me out. What the fuck. He locked me outside on the balcony of my own apartment and stole my car. Just like the old times. When I was little, I didn't complain much about it because it wasn't that big of a deal (but mostly because that's how all my siblings treated me like that), but this was a big deal. This could've made me late for work.
I had my phone in my pocket, so I called Indy. Luckily, he was on his way back home and he offered to give me a ride to work after he got me unlocked out (if that makes any sense). I called my brother a few times once Indy got home but he didn't answer. I'm going to have a lot to say to him when he gets home. I'm not five anymore. I'm twenty now, and I have a job which he could've made me late for, and he's staying in my apartment that I'm paying for (with Indy) without my parents help so he can't pull crap like this anymore. It wasn't funny when I was little, and it's not funny now either.
I just hope Mike doesn't come home when I'm at work because I don't want poor Indy to be stuck with him.
I went to the airport a little early to eliminate the chance of me being late so he wouldn't get mad at me. When I first saw him, I ran up to give him a nice big hug. He just stood there straight as a stick, and tapped me on the back. It was one of those I'm tapping you on the back because I don't want to hug you type of taps. I tried to ignore it and helped him with his bag. He lightened up a little when he saw my car and actually talked to me the whole time we were in it (of course, the conversation was only about the car and all the buttons and features it had).
When we got out, he looked at the car and stopped. He accused me of selling the Audi and a whole bunch of other. I explained to him that I had gotten into a car accident and then he thought I probably caused it on purpose so I could get a new car (and he wasn't joking either). Yes, of course I made a bus swerve into me and push me in the way of a pick up truck just so I could get a new car. The conclusion, giant gash in my arm, and smashed leg was just an added bonus. (I can't believe he had the nerve to say a stupid thing like that.)
We got upstairs and I showed him around and told he was going to stay in the guest room. I gave him his space and let him unpack while I put the final few beads into the prom dresses (damn girls decided to go anorexic for a week and loose a few pounds which meant I had to make a few alterations). He came down half an hour later and asked me for my car keys because he had to go meet up with the potential witness. I told him I'd be happy to drop him off but he couldn't take my car because I had to go to work (yes, I'm finally back at work at the restaurant) and I needed my car to get there.
He said he understood and told me he was going to get a cab. Two seconds later, when I was close to the door to the balcony, he pushes me through it and locks me out. What the fuck. He locked me outside on the balcony of my own apartment and stole my car. Just like the old times. When I was little, I didn't complain much about it because it wasn't that big of a deal (but mostly because that's how all my siblings treated me like that), but this was a big deal. This could've made me late for work.
I had my phone in my pocket, so I called Indy. Luckily, he was on his way back home and he offered to give me a ride to work after he got me unlocked out (if that makes any sense). I called my brother a few times once Indy got home but he didn't answer. I'm going to have a lot to say to him when he gets home. I'm not five anymore. I'm twenty now, and I have a job which he could've made me late for, and he's staying in my apartment that I'm paying for (with Indy) without my parents help so he can't pull crap like this anymore. It wasn't funny when I was little, and it's not funny now either.
I just hope Mike doesn't come home when I'm at work because I don't want poor Indy to be stuck with him.
Pre Pick-Up Jitters
I have to pick up my brother at the airport in a two hours and I'm nervous. We haven't exactly gotten along very well and I'm hoping this week won't be a complete disaster. Since there is a 16 year difference between us (he's the oldest), we never really had a lot of bonding. Him putting me in a big box, completely taping it shut, punching air holes in it, and leaving it in the basement, then turning up him music all the way so no one will find me for three hours when I was four was more of him style.
I'm hoping he won't be a complete jerk this week and lock me in the laundry room or something. I, on the other hand, am going to do my usual nice self (but I might rub it in his face a little that I got a Jag and he never got one). If he's not nice to me by the end of this week, then it's on like Donkey Kong.
But, I really am going to try my best to get along with each other. I have to remind him that I'm his little sister, and I demand love.
I'm hoping he won't be a complete jerk this week and lock me in the laundry room or something. I, on the other hand, am going to do my usual nice self (but I might rub it in his face a little that I got a Jag and he never got one). If he's not nice to me by the end of this week, then it's on like Donkey Kong.
But, I really am going to try my best to get along with each other. I have to remind him that I'm his little sister, and I demand love.
Impulse Buy?
I got a wake up call yesterday... at 4:30 in the morning. I jumped up when I heard the phone ring and poor Indy nearly fell out of bed. I knew who it was, one of my wonderful wonderful siblings. Was this payback for me calling them at 3:00 in the morning on my birthday? No. Whenever they called it was because they needed something and they forgot about the time difference.
I picked up the phone and heard my oldest brother Mike on the other end of the line. He was calling from Boston which meant it was 7:30 where he was. "Hey Runt, I need to go to L.A. for a few days to see a potential witness on a case I have so I'm going to be staying at your place. I'll be there on Tuesday." End of conversation.
I was confused and then a million things went through my mind all at once. First of all, how did he get the number to my apartment. I hadn't talked to him (my birthday doesn't count) in a while and as far as I knew, he had no idea where I was living. This means that he had talked to my parents and they had given him my number and my address. The more I thought about the more I got pist. I haven't talked to my parents since they left. Non of my family members have answered my calls or returned my messages. I know exactly what they think when they see my number on their caller ID "Oh, it's only Tina, I don't need to answer". The only reason my 3:00 in the morning birthday phone call thing worked was because I bocked my number when I called.
Then I started thinking about the last time I went to visit him. It was my niece's first communion and my sister-in-law asked me to get there a few days early so I could alter my niece's dress. I got there, and when night time came, my brother asked me where I was staying because he wanted his privacy and there was no way I was going to stay with them. I had no choice but to check into the Boston Park Plaza Hotel payed about $250 a night.
Now he's coming on Tuesday and he's staying at my place. What the fuck? I felt like calling back and telling him to stay at a hotel because there was no way his formally coked out ass would stay at my place. I figured I might as well be the bigger person and just let him stay. What's a few days right? At least we were moving into our new apartment and we were going to have an extra room. (By the way we ended up getting an even bigger upgrade because of a slight misunderstanding and we're getting a two bedroom, two bathroom, two story loft upstairs for the same price that we agreed for the other one. Awesome right?)
Even though I tried to let it go, I was still pretty pist. It started getting to my head a little and then I realized I really needed to get my car before I spent the money. What to get, what to get? All of a sudden, I knew what I was going to get. I sprung out of bed and Indy almost fell out of bed again because he was falling back to sleep and I scared him. I went straight to the living room and started doing numbers. I was determined to get this car, but only if I had enough money to pay for it all at once. I'll never amount to anything? I was determined to prove my brother wrong.
Indy came out and made coffee because he couldn't get back to sleep and he was wondering what I was doing up. I explained that I was trying to figure out if I had enough money to pay for the car I wanted. His mouth fell open when I told him what I was getting. At first he thought that I had lost it because I hadn't had coffee yet. When he saw that I was serious and that I was doing numbers, he sat down and went over it with me. With the money I got from the insurance for the car, the money from the city because the bus smashed my car, and the ,money I had made from this year's prom dress season, I had just about enough to pay for it all at once. I still needed to get paid for the two prom dresses I had just finished and that lone was enough to pay for my half of the rent and more.
Indy asked why I had all of a sudden taken such a strong interest in this car and I explained that it had been my brother's dream car. When it was time for him to start driving, my parents told him they would get him any car he wanted as long as he got his license first. He kept trying to get his license but he couldn't. He failed over and over and over again. He eventually gave up. By the time he got his license, his girlfriend (who's now his wife) was pregnant, so a family car was more appropriate. He never managed to get his dream car because he's always been horrible with money and isn't very responsible. Which is exactly why I'm getting the dream car he always wanted just in time for him to come see it.
I've been busting my butt trying to save money so I can completely pay off my student loan all at once when I graduate. If I keep working hard at the restaurant and keep making clothes, I'm gonna have more than enough money to pay it all off in a few months. So what's the harm in spending some of the money on something I need, like a really nice car that's going to make my brother really jealous and hopefully make him reconsider what he thinks about me.
After carefully and completely going over all the numbers, I made breakfast and started to get ready. I called my friend and told her to come pick me up so that I wouldn't have to leave the rental car at the car dealership when I bought the new car. She thought I was joking around when i told her what car I was getting, but quickly realized I serious when I wasn't laughing.
We went to the dealership and I asked to test drive the car I wanted. The moment I pushed the start button (it has a keyless staring system) and the little turn dial thingy popped up into my hand so I could put it into drive, I knew it was the car for me. At first, I was going to get the simplest form of the car, but the more features I found out about, the more of them I wanted. The rear parking camera was certainly useful and so was the blind spot monitoring system. Was the heated steering wheel really necessary? Absolutely. I hate freezing my hands on the steering wheel during the winter. The heated and air conditioned seats were not negotiable for me. Burning/Freezing my ass on leather seats was not going to happen. I had to take care of my precious rump.
The guy ended up convincing me that it was better to get the Supercharged version of the car because I was getting all the features anyway so I might as well get a better engine. He tried selling it to me at ticket price and I told him to forget it because if he thought I was a dumb blonde then he wasn't going to be my salesperson. After a lot of negotiation and me almost walking away a few times, I managed to get a lower price. I signed the contract to ensure he wouldn't raise the price when I went to go get the cashiers check (apparently it was too much money for a regular check) and when I came back, my car was waiting for me.
So what did I get?
A 2008 Jaguar XF 4.2 V8 Supercharged
Take that big brother! I got a Jag and you never got one! Ha!
I can't wait to see his face when I pick him up in it. (Yes, I'm gonna be nice and pick him at the airport).
I love my new car. It's a shiny black (midnight is the exact color) and the interior is charcoal.
Did I make an impulse buy?
Maybe. But here was my thought process:
The expression on my brother's face when he sees it is going to be worth it.
I picked up the phone and heard my oldest brother Mike on the other end of the line. He was calling from Boston which meant it was 7:30 where he was. "Hey Runt, I need to go to L.A. for a few days to see a potential witness on a case I have so I'm going to be staying at your place. I'll be there on Tuesday." End of conversation.
I was confused and then a million things went through my mind all at once. First of all, how did he get the number to my apartment. I hadn't talked to him (my birthday doesn't count) in a while and as far as I knew, he had no idea where I was living. This means that he had talked to my parents and they had given him my number and my address. The more I thought about the more I got pist. I haven't talked to my parents since they left. Non of my family members have answered my calls or returned my messages. I know exactly what they think when they see my number on their caller ID "Oh, it's only Tina, I don't need to answer". The only reason my 3:00 in the morning birthday phone call thing worked was because I bocked my number when I called.
Then I started thinking about the last time I went to visit him. It was my niece's first communion and my sister-in-law asked me to get there a few days early so I could alter my niece's dress. I got there, and when night time came, my brother asked me where I was staying because he wanted his privacy and there was no way I was going to stay with them. I had no choice but to check into the Boston Park Plaza Hotel payed about $250 a night.
Now he's coming on Tuesday and he's staying at my place. What the fuck? I felt like calling back and telling him to stay at a hotel because there was no way his formally coked out ass would stay at my place. I figured I might as well be the bigger person and just let him stay. What's a few days right? At least we were moving into our new apartment and we were going to have an extra room. (By the way we ended up getting an even bigger upgrade because of a slight misunderstanding and we're getting a two bedroom, two bathroom, two story loft upstairs for the same price that we agreed for the other one. Awesome right?)
Even though I tried to let it go, I was still pretty pist. It started getting to my head a little and then I realized I really needed to get my car before I spent the money. What to get, what to get? All of a sudden, I knew what I was going to get. I sprung out of bed and Indy almost fell out of bed again because he was falling back to sleep and I scared him. I went straight to the living room and started doing numbers. I was determined to get this car, but only if I had enough money to pay for it all at once. I'll never amount to anything? I was determined to prove my brother wrong.
Indy came out and made coffee because he couldn't get back to sleep and he was wondering what I was doing up. I explained that I was trying to figure out if I had enough money to pay for the car I wanted. His mouth fell open when I told him what I was getting. At first he thought that I had lost it because I hadn't had coffee yet. When he saw that I was serious and that I was doing numbers, he sat down and went over it with me. With the money I got from the insurance for the car, the money from the city because the bus smashed my car, and the ,money I had made from this year's prom dress season, I had just about enough to pay for it all at once. I still needed to get paid for the two prom dresses I had just finished and that lone was enough to pay for my half of the rent and more.
Indy asked why I had all of a sudden taken such a strong interest in this car and I explained that it had been my brother's dream car. When it was time for him to start driving, my parents told him they would get him any car he wanted as long as he got his license first. He kept trying to get his license but he couldn't. He failed over and over and over again. He eventually gave up. By the time he got his license, his girlfriend (who's now his wife) was pregnant, so a family car was more appropriate. He never managed to get his dream car because he's always been horrible with money and isn't very responsible. Which is exactly why I'm getting the dream car he always wanted just in time for him to come see it.
I've been busting my butt trying to save money so I can completely pay off my student loan all at once when I graduate. If I keep working hard at the restaurant and keep making clothes, I'm gonna have more than enough money to pay it all off in a few months. So what's the harm in spending some of the money on something I need, like a really nice car that's going to make my brother really jealous and hopefully make him reconsider what he thinks about me.
After carefully and completely going over all the numbers, I made breakfast and started to get ready. I called my friend and told her to come pick me up so that I wouldn't have to leave the rental car at the car dealership when I bought the new car. She thought I was joking around when i told her what car I was getting, but quickly realized I serious when I wasn't laughing.
We went to the dealership and I asked to test drive the car I wanted. The moment I pushed the start button (it has a keyless staring system) and the little turn dial thingy popped up into my hand so I could put it into drive, I knew it was the car for me. At first, I was going to get the simplest form of the car, but the more features I found out about, the more of them I wanted. The rear parking camera was certainly useful and so was the blind spot monitoring system. Was the heated steering wheel really necessary? Absolutely. I hate freezing my hands on the steering wheel during the winter. The heated and air conditioned seats were not negotiable for me. Burning/Freezing my ass on leather seats was not going to happen. I had to take care of my precious rump.
The guy ended up convincing me that it was better to get the Supercharged version of the car because I was getting all the features anyway so I might as well get a better engine. He tried selling it to me at ticket price and I told him to forget it because if he thought I was a dumb blonde then he wasn't going to be my salesperson. After a lot of negotiation and me almost walking away a few times, I managed to get a lower price. I signed the contract to ensure he wouldn't raise the price when I went to go get the cashiers check (apparently it was too much money for a regular check) and when I came back, my car was waiting for me.
So what did I get?
A 2008 Jaguar XF 4.2 V8 Supercharged
Take that big brother! I got a Jag and you never got one! Ha!
I can't wait to see his face when I pick him up in it. (Yes, I'm gonna be nice and pick him at the airport).
I love my new car. It's a shiny black (midnight is the exact color) and the interior is charcoal.
Did I make an impulse buy?
Maybe. But here was my thought process:
- I need a new car.
- I need to look hot in it.
- My brother is coming from Boston.
- My brother always wanted a Jag.
- My brother doesn't have a Jag.
- I could get a Jag.
- I would look hot in a Jag.
- If I pulled up in a Jag to a client's house they would think "Wow. Tina looks hot. If she makes my clothes, I'll look hot too."
- A Jag could be good for business.
- Indy would think I looked hot in a Jag too.
- My brother would be really jealous if I got a Jag.
- I want a Jag.
The expression on my brother's face when he sees it is going to be worth it.
Test Driving Day!
I finally went. I still haven't made up my mind and I still have more cars to test drive. So, the first place I went was to Volkswagon because i wanted to test drive a bug. They're really cute and girly like me. I liked the convertible and with everything I wanted it came out to almost $26,700 (all the prices I am giving are without the warranty and taxes just so you know).
The next place I went was to Toyota. I test drove the 2008 (all the cars I looked at were 2008 just so you know) Avalon (almost $41,000 with everything I wanted) and the Camry Solara Convertible (with evrything almost $33,000).
Next stop was Honda. I tried the Civic Hybrid (a few $ less than $29,000), and then I tried Cavutto's suggestion (I liked it), the S200 CR (about $40,000 with what I wanted).
The last stop I made before I had to come home and work on the almost finished prom dresses was Nissan. The first was the Altima Hybrid (approximately $34,000 with my wants). Next was the Maxima 3.5 SL (about $36,300). Last was the beautiful Z Grand Touring Roadster (almost a whopping $51,000).
I liked all of them. And technically speaking, I could buy anyone of them and still have a few bucks left over from the money I got from my other car and from the city as an apology for having a stupid bus driver (I'm not picking on bus drivers, this one really was stupid).
So, I've picked one from each place I visited today"
I'm thinking of checking out more cars later because my fingers are tingling at the thought of driving more new cars (and because I want to make sure I find what I want).
I'm trying to keep in mind that I should probably try not to spend too much money so i can save some of it for things like rent and to pay off my student loan next year (key word: try). But you know what, I've been working my cute ass off lately and saving up as much as possible, so you know what, I think I deserve to get something nice I like.
What will I get? I'm not certain. So if there's anything you suggest for me to test drive, don't hold it back because I'm dying to drive more cars.
The next place I went was to Toyota. I test drove the 2008 (all the cars I looked at were 2008 just so you know) Avalon (almost $41,000 with everything I wanted) and the Camry Solara Convertible (with evrything almost $33,000).
Next stop was Honda. I tried the Civic Hybrid (a few $ less than $29,000), and then I tried Cavutto's suggestion (I liked it), the S200 CR (about $40,000 with what I wanted).
The last stop I made before I had to come home and work on the almost finished prom dresses was Nissan. The first was the Altima Hybrid (approximately $34,000 with my wants). Next was the Maxima 3.5 SL (about $36,300). Last was the beautiful Z Grand Touring Roadster (almost a whopping $51,000).
I liked all of them. And technically speaking, I could buy anyone of them and still have a few bucks left over from the money I got from my other car and from the city as an apology for having a stupid bus driver (I'm not picking on bus drivers, this one really was stupid).
So, I've picked one from each place I visited today"
- 2008 Volkswagon Convertible SE
- 2008 Toyota Camry Solara Convertible
- 2008 Honda S2000
- 2008 Nissan Z Grand Touring Roadster
I'm thinking of checking out more cars later because my fingers are tingling at the thought of driving more new cars (and because I want to make sure I find what I want).
I'm trying to keep in mind that I should probably try not to spend too much money so i can save some of it for things like rent and to pay off my student loan next year (key word: try). But you know what, I've been working my cute ass off lately and saving up as much as possible, so you know what, I think I deserve to get something nice I like.
What will I get? I'm not certain. So if there's anything you suggest for me to test drive, don't hold it back because I'm dying to drive more cars.
Sleep Deprivation
I pulled an all nighter last night working on the dresses so I could start packing today. Our goal is to move upstairs into our new apartment by Friday afternoon. I'm on my gazillionth cup pf coffee today. (Is it possible to OD on coffee?) I didn't go test driving today so I still have no idea what car to get. (And I don't think test driving new cars is a good idea when you've had no sleep.) I can't believe the two dresses are already completely sewn up and I'm about half way through with the damn beading. Another day or two and I'll be completely done with them. (You should see how fast I'm typing right now. It's insane what tons of coffee can do to you.)
Ha! Pizza's here!
Ha! Pizza's here!
What To Get, What To Get
I really need to get a new car this week. I can't keep that much money around because it's too tempting to spend on other things, and then I won't be able to get a new car. So, I have no idea what car to get. My poor car that got destroyed was a cerulean blue 2008 Audi S5 with everything in it. My parents bought it for me for Christmas because they "felt bad" about not helping me with paying for college. It's not that I wasn't thankful for their generous gift, but I honestly didn't really like the car. Besides the fact that it was cerulean blue (not a good color for a car in my opinion), it was a constant reminder of an argument I had with my parents.
Towards the end of my junior year, my parents kept becoming more and more worried that I wasn't going to be a doctor or lawyer. That was their thing. My mother is a doctor and my father is a lawyer. In fact, that's how they met. My dad pushed someone in court a little too far and he got punched in the face (some people take being caught lying under oath in a violent manner). The guy's ring making contact with my dad's face ended up with a trip to the hospital. My mom was the doctor in the ER that examined him and gave him stitches. The rest, as they say, is history.
That's why all of my brothers and sisters are either doctors or lawyers. My parents had no hesitation when it came to paying for all of my sibling's education. However, when it came to me, they weren't going to help. They made it very clear that fashion design was not the career I wanted. They told me that I wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer, not a fashion designer. They continued this until I got accepted into the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising at the beginning of my senior year. After that, they stopped talking to me. They didn't completely stop talking to me. We just weren't talking anymore than was necessary.
I was hurt, but I tried not to pay too much attention to it. When it was time to figure out how I was going to pay for school, I knew I was on my own. I don't mind paying for my own education. I just don't like that my parents gave me the "we'll pay for you're college only if you become either a lawyer or a doctor, other than that, we're not helping at all" option. it would've been nice if I had a little bit more enthusiasm from them. Of course, I applied for student loans (it was too late to apply for scholarships by the time it was time to start paying). I started working more and made dresses on the side whenever I could. After I took a few quarters off and kept working my ass off so I could pay for school, my parents finally realized I was serious about what I wanted to do.
That's why they bought me the car for Christmas. I was thankful, but it felt like a big slap on the face. They were willing to pay so much money for a car but hadn't wanted to help me with a single penny when it came to school because I was "studying the wrong thing". The car was their way of saying they accepted that I was studying fashion design, but they still weren't willing to help me with a single penny for school or anything related to school because I hadn't followed in their footsteps.
So, I was actually pretty relieved to find out that the car was unusable after the accident. No more constant reminder of my parents disappointment (and no more nice car in an ugly cerulean blue color). Now I've gotten enough money to give a $$$$$ down payment (of full payment, depending on what I get) for whatever car I chose. I have no idea what I want to get. I think I'm gonna work extra hard today to get as much of the prom dresses done today as I can so I can maybe go car shopping tomorrow (or at least test drive some of them until I figure out what I want).
Towards the end of my junior year, my parents kept becoming more and more worried that I wasn't going to be a doctor or lawyer. That was their thing. My mother is a doctor and my father is a lawyer. In fact, that's how they met. My dad pushed someone in court a little too far and he got punched in the face (some people take being caught lying under oath in a violent manner). The guy's ring making contact with my dad's face ended up with a trip to the hospital. My mom was the doctor in the ER that examined him and gave him stitches. The rest, as they say, is history.
That's why all of my brothers and sisters are either doctors or lawyers. My parents had no hesitation when it came to paying for all of my sibling's education. However, when it came to me, they weren't going to help. They made it very clear that fashion design was not the career I wanted. They told me that I wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer, not a fashion designer. They continued this until I got accepted into the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising at the beginning of my senior year. After that, they stopped talking to me. They didn't completely stop talking to me. We just weren't talking anymore than was necessary.
I was hurt, but I tried not to pay too much attention to it. When it was time to figure out how I was going to pay for school, I knew I was on my own. I don't mind paying for my own education. I just don't like that my parents gave me the "we'll pay for you're college only if you become either a lawyer or a doctor, other than that, we're not helping at all" option. it would've been nice if I had a little bit more enthusiasm from them. Of course, I applied for student loans (it was too late to apply for scholarships by the time it was time to start paying). I started working more and made dresses on the side whenever I could. After I took a few quarters off and kept working my ass off so I could pay for school, my parents finally realized I was serious about what I wanted to do.
That's why they bought me the car for Christmas. I was thankful, but it felt like a big slap on the face. They were willing to pay so much money for a car but hadn't wanted to help me with a single penny when it came to school because I was "studying the wrong thing". The car was their way of saying they accepted that I was studying fashion design, but they still weren't willing to help me with a single penny for school or anything related to school because I hadn't followed in their footsteps.
So, I was actually pretty relieved to find out that the car was unusable after the accident. No more constant reminder of my parents disappointment (and no more nice car in an ugly cerulean blue color). Now I've gotten enough money to give a $$$$$ down payment (of full payment, depending on what I get) for whatever car I chose. I have no idea what I want to get. I think I'm gonna work extra hard today to get as much of the prom dresses done today as I can so I can maybe go car shopping tomorrow (or at least test drive some of them until I figure out what I want).
Desperation
That was my state of mind when I couldn't find the right shade of canary yellow and champaign for those damn prom dresses. I thought I bought the right shade, but when I showed them they told me they wanted a slightly different color (good thing I checked before actually starting to make the dresses). But once I found the right colors, wa la, everything started to move at a much quicker pace.
I managed to get both of the dresses draped before starting my hectic weekend filled with walking the 5K for breast cancer (which by the way, I managed to completely walk) and lots of preparing for the surprise mothers day party my friend threw for her mother. I was surprised how much I got done this weekend considering how exhausted I felt.
Believe it or not, I have both the dresses sewn in muslin (and if you don't know what that means look it up), and I am waiting for them to come try them on. If they fit properly, then I can get started on making them out of the canary yellow satin and champaign taffeta (and not to mention the never ending supply of tulle that has filled up half my living room).
I think I am moving at a pretty fast pace, but I won't keep be able to keep moving so quickly for much longer. A guy from management came to see us today and told us that if we move to the new apartment upstairs by the end of this week, then we'll get a discount for this months rent (we had no objections because discounts are always welcomed). I also have to get a new car this week because the sooner I get it, the less chance there is that I'll spend the money I received from the accident to get a new car. What am I planning to get? I have no idea.
I feel like a squirrel right now. I'm wired on so much coffee right now it's insane.
I managed to get both of the dresses draped before starting my hectic weekend filled with walking the 5K for breast cancer (which by the way, I managed to completely walk) and lots of preparing for the surprise mothers day party my friend threw for her mother. I was surprised how much I got done this weekend considering how exhausted I felt.
Believe it or not, I have both the dresses sewn in muslin (and if you don't know what that means look it up), and I am waiting for them to come try them on. If they fit properly, then I can get started on making them out of the canary yellow satin and champaign taffeta (and not to mention the never ending supply of tulle that has filled up half my living room).
I think I am moving at a pretty fast pace, but I won't keep be able to keep moving so quickly for much longer. A guy from management came to see us today and told us that if we move to the new apartment upstairs by the end of this week, then we'll get a discount for this months rent (we had no objections because discounts are always welcomed). I also have to get a new car this week because the sooner I get it, the less chance there is that I'll spend the money I received from the accident to get a new car. What am I planning to get? I have no idea.
I feel like a squirrel right now. I'm wired on so much coffee right now it's insane.
Oh F***
I got a phone call today. I answered it and it was a lady who sounded very desperate. Oh no, I knew what it was about. It was prom season.
When I was in high school, I couldn't find a dress that I liked and that could fit me. I went to prom twice. Once when my boyfriend at the time was a senior and I was a junior, and the second time when I was a senior. The first time I went to prom, I absolutely hated the dress I got. It was the only thing that could fit me. They don't make a lot of prom dresses for short people who have a tiny waist along with a big pair of hooters and a big rump. Everything was either too long and too big at the waist or was tight at the bust level and rear level. The second time I went to prom, I decided to make my dress. After all, I was going to be attending fashion school when I graduated. I got a few books to help me refine my dressmaking skills along with some supplies. I started two months in advance so I would have plenty of time in case something went wrong. By the time prom came, I had a very nice dress that actually fit me. I didn't tell anyone I made it in case everyone thought it was ugly or badly made. I was pleasantly surprised when people liked it. Even then, I kept it a secret. Only a few close friends knew.
Last year, one of my friend's sisters ended up deciding to go to homecoming and asked me to make her dress because she had liked what I wore to prom. I agreed and swore her to secrecy because I didn't want to get a lot of dress orders since my schoolwork already took enough time. Two months later, one of her friends called me and asked me to do her dress for her quinceanera. I agreed and realized how much easier it was getting for me. After seeing the finished dress, realized I had found my true calling and was relieved that I was taking the right major.
I took a few quarters off because I had some personal problems that I had to deal with and a shit load of school work was not helping. In the mean time, I worked for my family friend's catering business and made dresses. When prom season hit last year I made a total of 25 dresses. It was complete insanity and hard work but I ended up making around $8,500 from the dresses (I charged extra for last minute orders). All of it went towards paying my horrible student loan once I graduated. This year, I decided to take less dress orders since I started school again (and the orders had to be made with time in advance so I wouldn't go completely insane). Ten dresses was my limit for prom season this year and I had already finished the last one about two weeks ago.
When I heard what the lady on the phone was saying to me I didn't know what to do. She told me her two daughters were going to prom (one is a junior, the other a senior) and no one was willing to make their dresses on such short notice. I started to tell her that I was sorry and that I wouldn't be able to do it. The moment she said that at least $1,000 were in it for me I started to reconsider. I figured it wouldn't hurt to have them come over and see what they wanted. I wasn't going to be able to work for at least another week (my arm may not be able to handle the weight of heavy plates yet) and I needed the money (and because I would be taking another week off of school since I wouldn't be able to carry all my supplies).
They came over and told me that their prom was on the 24th. That gave me about two week to make two dresses. What dresses did they want me to make?
The girl who was a junior wanted this dress:
She saw it on a show called America's Prom Queen (what the fuck? right) and she had to have it. Only she didn't want it in aqua (which was the only color it came in), she wanted it in canary yellow. I told them it was too much work (the beading alone would be a lot of work) for two weeks. Their mother explained that no one else would do it and that they were desperate so whatever price I named they would pay. I told her I'd think about it once I saw the next dress.
The second girl wanted this dress:
The moment I saw this I told her no. Making these two dresses in two weeks would be impossible unless I didn't eat or sleep for those two weeks straight. She immediately said she was willing to give me $1,500 for both of them and then I started to take another look. The second girl wanted the green dress in a champaign color. I started thinking about it again. My weekend was completely full already and I had no intention on leaving my prior commitment to my friend and her mother. I told them no again and the two daughters freaked out and nearly started crying. Their mother upped the offer to $1,000 for each dress and by then, the offer was too good to refuse. I told them to buzz off for an hour or two while I thought and sketched out the dresses to see if they were ok with the small changes I made so there would be less beading for me to do.
I started thinking about it started laughing because I couldn't believe it. Were people really willing to spend that much money on prom. Young people were getting ridiculous. It's one night. One night that isn't even all about you. Chances are, that dress will only be worn one time. It's absolutely ridiculous. Then I started laughing because not only was it ridiculous how much they were willing to spend, but it was ridiculous how big of an idiot I was for agreeing to do this.
When they came back, I showed them the sketches and they were happy to see them. I was relieved. I had made them in the right color and they didn't mind that there was less beading. They said the important thing was that it had the essence of the original dress. Essence. It reminded me of perfume.
I took their measurements before they left, and now I'm in my way to the fashion district here in Downtown to go look for fabric.
Let the insanity begin.
When I was in high school, I couldn't find a dress that I liked and that could fit me. I went to prom twice. Once when my boyfriend at the time was a senior and I was a junior, and the second time when I was a senior. The first time I went to prom, I absolutely hated the dress I got. It was the only thing that could fit me. They don't make a lot of prom dresses for short people who have a tiny waist along with a big pair of hooters and a big rump. Everything was either too long and too big at the waist or was tight at the bust level and rear level. The second time I went to prom, I decided to make my dress. After all, I was going to be attending fashion school when I graduated. I got a few books to help me refine my dressmaking skills along with some supplies. I started two months in advance so I would have plenty of time in case something went wrong. By the time prom came, I had a very nice dress that actually fit me. I didn't tell anyone I made it in case everyone thought it was ugly or badly made. I was pleasantly surprised when people liked it. Even then, I kept it a secret. Only a few close friends knew.
Last year, one of my friend's sisters ended up deciding to go to homecoming and asked me to make her dress because she had liked what I wore to prom. I agreed and swore her to secrecy because I didn't want to get a lot of dress orders since my schoolwork already took enough time. Two months later, one of her friends called me and asked me to do her dress for her quinceanera. I agreed and realized how much easier it was getting for me. After seeing the finished dress, realized I had found my true calling and was relieved that I was taking the right major.
I took a few quarters off because I had some personal problems that I had to deal with and a shit load of school work was not helping. In the mean time, I worked for my family friend's catering business and made dresses. When prom season hit last year I made a total of 25 dresses. It was complete insanity and hard work but I ended up making around $8,500 from the dresses (I charged extra for last minute orders). All of it went towards paying my horrible student loan once I graduated. This year, I decided to take less dress orders since I started school again (and the orders had to be made with time in advance so I wouldn't go completely insane). Ten dresses was my limit for prom season this year and I had already finished the last one about two weeks ago.
When I heard what the lady on the phone was saying to me I didn't know what to do. She told me her two daughters were going to prom (one is a junior, the other a senior) and no one was willing to make their dresses on such short notice. I started to tell her that I was sorry and that I wouldn't be able to do it. The moment she said that at least $1,000 were in it for me I started to reconsider. I figured it wouldn't hurt to have them come over and see what they wanted. I wasn't going to be able to work for at least another week (my arm may not be able to handle the weight of heavy plates yet) and I needed the money (and because I would be taking another week off of school since I wouldn't be able to carry all my supplies).
They came over and told me that their prom was on the 24th. That gave me about two week to make two dresses. What dresses did they want me to make?
The girl who was a junior wanted this dress:
She saw it on a show called America's Prom Queen (what the fuck? right) and she had to have it. Only she didn't want it in aqua (which was the only color it came in), she wanted it in canary yellow. I told them it was too much work (the beading alone would be a lot of work) for two weeks. Their mother explained that no one else would do it and that they were desperate so whatever price I named they would pay. I told her I'd think about it once I saw the next dress.
The second girl wanted this dress:
The moment I saw this I told her no. Making these two dresses in two weeks would be impossible unless I didn't eat or sleep for those two weeks straight. She immediately said she was willing to give me $1,500 for both of them and then I started to take another look. The second girl wanted the green dress in a champaign color. I started thinking about it again. My weekend was completely full already and I had no intention on leaving my prior commitment to my friend and her mother. I told them no again and the two daughters freaked out and nearly started crying. Their mother upped the offer to $1,000 for each dress and by then, the offer was too good to refuse. I told them to buzz off for an hour or two while I thought and sketched out the dresses to see if they were ok with the small changes I made so there would be less beading for me to do.
I started thinking about it started laughing because I couldn't believe it. Were people really willing to spend that much money on prom. Young people were getting ridiculous. It's one night. One night that isn't even all about you. Chances are, that dress will only be worn one time. It's absolutely ridiculous. Then I started laughing because not only was it ridiculous how much they were willing to spend, but it was ridiculous how big of an idiot I was for agreeing to do this.
When they came back, I showed them the sketches and they were happy to see them. I was relieved. I had made them in the right color and they didn't mind that there was less beading. They said the important thing was that it had the essence of the original dress. Essence. It reminded me of perfume.
I took their measurements before they left, and now I'm in my way to the fashion district here in Downtown to go look for fabric.
Let the insanity begin.
Run/Walk/Hop For A Cause
Since my mother is not going to be here for Mother's Day, I decided I'm going to spend it with my friend and her mother. About three years, ago my friend Shelly's mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. After much treatment and two surgeries, she is now in remission. She is a survivor and is proud of it.
On Saturday we are all (including Indy because he wants to do something good) going to participate in the 15th annual EIF Revlon Run/Walk (or in my case hop) for Women 5K here in Downtown LA. Of course, when I signed up, it was before my car accident. That's not going to stop me. I made a commitment and I plan to stick to it. This will be my third year participating.
This is the first year her mother will be able to participate in it. Instead of running like we usually do, her family has decided to walk the 5K so that we will all be in one big group. I'm glad because I'm not going to be able to run since I am still healing. I'm going to do my best to walk as much as I can (it's gonna hurt but that won't matter), then Indy has agreed to give me a piggy back ride whenever I need a break (so glad he's in good shape). Shelly's family is also going to bring a wheelchair in case her mother or anyone else gets tiered and needs a break (I'm determined not to use it).
On Sunday, Shelly is going to be using her party planning skills to throw a gigantic surprise Mother's Day party to celebrate her mother's survival. I am excited because I have known them for most of my life, and Shelly's mother has been like a mother to me.
If anyone has a chance to participate in one of these beneficiary runs/walks, I highly recommend doing it because it is a wonderful experience.
On Saturday we are all (including Indy because he wants to do something good) going to participate in the 15th annual EIF Revlon Run/Walk (or in my case hop) for Women 5K here in Downtown LA. Of course, when I signed up, it was before my car accident. That's not going to stop me. I made a commitment and I plan to stick to it. This will be my third year participating.
This is the first year her mother will be able to participate in it. Instead of running like we usually do, her family has decided to walk the 5K so that we will all be in one big group. I'm glad because I'm not going to be able to run since I am still healing. I'm going to do my best to walk as much as I can (it's gonna hurt but that won't matter), then Indy has agreed to give me a piggy back ride whenever I need a break (so glad he's in good shape). Shelly's family is also going to bring a wheelchair in case her mother or anyone else gets tiered and needs a break (I'm determined not to use it).
On Sunday, Shelly is going to be using her party planning skills to throw a gigantic surprise Mother's Day party to celebrate her mother's survival. I am excited because I have known them for most of my life, and Shelly's mother has been like a mother to me.
If anyone has a chance to participate in one of these beneficiary runs/walks, I highly recommend doing it because it is a wonderful experience.
Birthday Bash Madness
I'm proud to announce that I managed to do everything on my birthday to-do list. I had a blast.
My friend rented out an awesome loft for my "surprise" party (apparently it was supposed to be a surprise but I had already known about it for a week since people just don't know how to keep their mouth shut). While I was finishing getting ready, I heard a knock at the door and my friend ran into my room and tackled me (surprisingly, I didn't get more hurt than I already was). In the confusion, Indy blindfolded me and picked me up. I was being kidnapped. It was the only way to catch me of guard and recover some of the element of surprise. They drove me around for half an hour and then I felt the car stop.
Indy picked me up again and went up what felt like a million stairs (good think he's in shape or else that would've been really hard). I heard a door open and then my blindfold came off. Everyone yelled surprise, even though I knew, and I actually was surprised because I didn't expect so many people to be there. I was even more surprised at the amount of people who wore silly birthday hats for me (word had spread quickly about the silly birthday hat thing and I can't believe people actually wore them). Even Indy wore one (success). Two seconds after everyone yelled surprised, someone came up to me and put a tiara on my head (they know me well). I got stabbed in the head in the process because it happened so quick, but it still counts as a success.
After a while, I went up to the DJ and asked him to play the Macarena (another success). He played an insanely long version of it, and everyone actually danced it (the people who were already drunk looked hilarious dancing it). Half way through the Macarena, I noticed my friend was a little tipsy and was trying to out dance me. How dare she try to out dance me. I am the queen of dancing and she knows it. I challenged her to a dance off and told her that the loser would have to do the chicken dance in the middle of the street (I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stones). She agreed and then it was on like Donkey Kong. She lost (she could never out dance me), and then she shamefully went downstairs into the street. Everyone squeezed on to the rooftop so they could see Shelly's chicken dance.
She waited until the light changed and started doing the chicken dance across the street. Every time she reached a corner, she would start laughing uncontrollably (I'm not sure if that was the alcohol or the dancing that was making her laugh). She went around doing the chicken dance every time she crossed the street and made a complete square around the intersection. Many people honked at poor Shelly and we cheered her on from the rooftop (not that she could hear over the sound of the cars).
I couldn't help but notice that Indy disappeared when we were watching Shelly make a fool out of herself. I went inside to look for him and then I realized it was really quiet and everyone was looking at me. Something was up. I started going up to people and tried bribing them with my tiara. It didn't work. No one would tell me what was going on. They had been warned to keep their mouth shut. Had the dance of and chicken dance been part of some master plan? Possibly. They knew about my list and they might've used it in order to plan something.
After a few minutes I noticed that there was a little stand with small box wrapped in gold wrapping paper on it. I started to get close to it and my friends started to panic. I had seen something I wasn't supposed to. Someone yelled something out (I think it was NOW! that was yelled out) and then the lights went out. It was another surprise. One single spotlight shined down on the stand with the box and music started playing. All of a sudden, it hit me. Indy was missing and the Indiana Jones theme song was playing. They had created my very own Indiana Jones adventure.
A guy dressed in a ninja costume came out of nowhere and stole the box from the stand. It was one of my sensei's minions (everyone did a lot of planning for this). All of a sudden, Indy showed up in full Indiana Jones gear and started fighting the ninja. More ninjas came out of nowhere and joined in. One of them came up from behind me and grabbed me. The ninja was supposed to "kidnap" me, but my self defense training kicked in and I defended myself out of instinct (I still kick ass even when I'm injured). Everyone stated laughing and I figured it wasn't fair for Indy to have all the fun. I grabbed one of the ninja's sticks and started showing off some of my skills that sensei had taught me (I tried my best not to do anything that would hurt me more).
When I got to the second to last ninja I realized who it was. My rival. My arch nemesis. Sensei’s favorite nephew. He grabbed one of the sticks and then I knew it was on for real. He was still pist that a short blonde girl could kick his ass and I knew he wasn't going to play around like the others were. Oh shit, I was going to get hurt. Fighting a ninja dude in heels when you're already hurt is not easy (especially since it's been three weeks since I actually did any training with sensei). I defended myself the best I could and Indy came to help me when he finished off the other guy. I fell flat on my ass, but I hit the ninja behind the knee (what ever that part is called) with the sick on the way down. Ha!
Indy picked me up and handed me the box. What was inside? A Premium Annual Disneyland Passport. I can now go to Disneyland whenever I feel like it because parking is free and there are no block out dates (now I can go bug Indy at work). The whole thing was genius. Kudos to Indy, Shelly, and sensei’s minions for doing such a fine job in entertaining me.
We continued dancing and having fun, When I had to pee for what felt like the 50th time, I noticed one of my friends was passed out on a couch by the bathroom. Now was my chance. I got my Shelly's eyeliner and started drawing a cat nose and whiskers on his face. I also dipped his hand in warm water but nothing happened (maybe the water wasn't warm enough).
After that, things start getting fuzzy. I started doing the Bunny Hop and Indy joined (success for the silly dance with Indy) and so did a lot of other drunk people. I kept taking short breaks to call me siblings when it was 3:00 AM for them (they should've called me) and they were really pist off (but it made me thrilled).
The only things on my list was to get completely hammered and do something embarrassing, and to go on a midnight swim.
I did get hammered, and the embarrassing thing... well, I didn’t do anything embarrassing (that I remember). Instead, something embarrassing happened. I had a wardrobe malfunction. My halter dress failed me and I ended up flashing about 150 people, but that's ok because I like my boobs and because I really don't remember much of it. I also managed to go on a midnight swim. Indy had packed my bathing suit because he knows how determined I am. Shelly helped me break into the pool (which was closed) at around 2:00 AM so I could cross that off my list.
After the night was over, I thought Indy was taking us home. He wasn't. He had one last surprise. He took me to the really nice Millennium Biltmore Hotel so I could comfortably sleep off my hang over the next day and because he knew I had done way too much that night (considering I was still pretty injured) so I would probably feel like shit the next day. When we got to our room, there were a bunch of white roses all over the room and my heart completely melted. I loved roses and Indy knew it.
I slept most of the day yesterday. I didn't want to get out of bed. Indy and I ordered a lot of room service and watched a lot of TV. We stayed there last night too (good thinking on Indy's part because I had no intention of getting up early yesterday just to check out).
I think I had a good birthday. It was just like me. Happy and completely crazy (in a good way).
And whoever thought of the Indiana Jones thing was a genius because I wasn't expecting it and it everyone enjoyed it.
Happy Birthday To Me!
A few more hours and I'm off to celebrate. Will having a messed up leg and arm stop me from having fun on my birthday? Not all. I'll be dancing the night away (or hopping the night away) and I'm taking of the sling so I can freely move at the party my friend is throwing me in an awesome loft.
So, I have a few things to accomplish:
First, I call my brother in Boston and my sister in Detroit when it's 12:00 AM here.
Then, I'll call my sister in Chicago when it's 1:00 AM here.
Next, I'll call my brother in Denver when it's 2:00 AM here.
Last, I'll call my sister in Seattle when it's 3:00 AM here.
Will they be mad? Absolutely, but them being annoyed will be my birthday present to myself. Besides, my family has pretty much abandoned me and it'll be nice to hear their voices... even if it's just them yelling at me.
So, I have a few things to accomplish:
- Get Indy to wear a silly birthday hat for me.
- Get my friend to do the chicken dance in the middle of the street.
- Take a midnight swim.
- Wear a tiara.
- Get a lot of people to do the macarena.
- Get Indy to carry to do a silly dance with me.
- Have a dance off with someone.
- Draw on people who are passed out.
- Stick the hands of people who are passed out in arm water because I've always wondered if it worked.
- Get completely hammered and do something embarrassing I won't remember.
First, I call my brother in Boston and my sister in Detroit when it's 12:00 AM here.
Then, I'll call my sister in Chicago when it's 1:00 AM here.
Next, I'll call my brother in Denver when it's 2:00 AM here.
Last, I'll call my sister in Seattle when it's 3:00 AM here.
Will they be mad? Absolutely, but them being annoyed will be my birthday present to myself. Besides, my family has pretty much abandoned me and it'll be nice to hear their voices... even if it's just them yelling at me.
Movin On Up
I did a lot of thinking yesterday with Indy. I couldn’t help but notice that Indy spent more time in my apartment than he did in his own. I joked around and told him that he might as well move in because it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Then, I looked around. There was a little box by my couch that had a bunch of Indy’s stuff in it. The closet in my living room was filled with a bunch of his clothes, including some of his uniforms. I opened the fridge and a bunch of A&W sodas (Indy’s favorite soda, not mine) were in it. Then I realized what I had been doing before I started looking around. I had been folding Indy’s clothes that he had just washed in my laundry room (and this isn‘t easy to do with an arm in a sling).
We were practically living together. It had happened so gradually that I didn’t even notice. Did this freak me out? Surprisingly, no. I felt weird. Normally, I would’ve freaked out at the thought of someone practically moving themselves into my apartment. This didn’t freak me out at all. When my ex used to leave his stuff at my house (even if it was just a CD) I would flip because I felt like my space was being invaded. That, and because I didn’t want his things in my house if we ever broke up.
Were we really living together? I figured I might as well be blunt about it and ask Indy. “Are we living together?” He looked up from behind his book, stared at me, then slowly started tilting his head. He was thinking. “I think we are. I mean, there’s only soda in my fridge now because I always eat here. The only thing I go up there for lately is to get clothes, and those end up getting left here so my closet is getting pretty empty.” He stopped for a minute then continued. “I could move my stuff back upstairs if you want me to if it bothers you. I didn’t mean to. It just kind of happened.” It did just kind of happen.
What I was really confused about was the fact that I wasn’t freaked out or bothered by it. I liked waking up and having coffee waiting for me. I liked that I no longer had to use a step ladder whenever I needed something from the top shelf. I was amazed every time Indy automatically started setting the table when he saw that food was almost ready, and I was even more amazed that he’d help me clean up when we finished eating. I didn’t mind having him around all the time. I like it.
When I found out my parents were moving to New York and that I would be moving downtown, I was a little scared. Downtown LA can be scary. Of course, living in a really nice building takes away some of the oh my god, someone is going to break into my apartment and kill me in the middle of the night feeling. Come to think of it, this place is starting to grow on me. I’m five minutes away from school, and fifteen minutes away from work. The place is absolutely beautiful (even though you can’t throw pennies in the fountain and take a flower from the gardens). If I want to work out, I can go downstairs to the gym. If I feel like relaxing, I can sit by the pool, sit in the jacuzzi, sit in the sauna, lie down in the tanning bed, or get a massage (they have massage tables but I’m not sure if you have to bring someone in to give you a massage). If I feel like going somewhere, I just call the front desk and they make reservations for me (if you‘re ever get a chance, I recommend going to see Wicked because I loved it). If I need cash, there’s a handy dandy ATM machine downstairs. It’s a very nice place to live in, but it’s just really expensive.
I started thinking. I’m paying a little over $2,000 for this small 750 sq ft one bedroom one bathroom apartment. It’s crammed with my things, and my never ending pile of school supplies just keeps getting bigger. It’s just too small. I need a bigger place, but that means it would cost more money. I don’t want to get a place in a really shady area because then I’d have the oh my god, someone is going to break into my apartment and kill me in the middle of the night feeling all the time.
I figured I might as well be blunt with Indy again. “This place is too small. It’s crammed with stuff.” Indy put down his book, stared at me, then slowly started tilting his head (he always reminded me of a cute puppy when he did that). He was thinking again. “I told you I could move my stuff back up, but it’ll probably end up down here in a week or so.” He stopped again, then started tilting his head again. “Or I could bring down the small amount of stuff I have left upstairs and you could put all your school supplies upstairs and use it as a work area.” I couldn’t do that. If my school stuff was upstairs, then I would get lazy and not want to go all the way upstairs to do my work. Not to mention it would be a waste to pay $2,000 for a place to only do my work.
All of a sudden, Indy quickly tilted his head. This mean he had a brilliant idea. “We’re both paying $2,000 for a one bedroom, one bathroom place. Combined that’s almost $4,500. For just one or two hundred dollars more than what we each are paying right now, we could get a two bedroom, two bathroom place upstairs. It would be cheaper for both of us. You could use the second room for your work. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch if you don’t want to share your bed… Just a thought.” A brilliant thought in my opinion.
Indy had been spending about five minutes a day in his apartment, and this past week he hadn’t even gone up there. That’s over $2,000 on an empty apartment. My parents were no where to be found, I was going to be paying for my own apartment anyways. And if you really think about it, we both would have to pay about $800 less that what we’re paying right now if we got a bigger apartment together. It made sense, but was it a bit hasty to officially move in together. Maybe, but what would the difference be. He was always in my apartment, and I got a good look at his apartment a few minutes ago and it was empty. We were wasting money when we could be saving money.
We talked it out, sat down and out it on paper to see if it made sense. It did. I was making about $300 a week at the restaurant because I was only working part time since I had school. With tips, was up to about $500 a week (a smile goes a long way). That’s about $2,000 a month. My rent was currently a little over $2000 a month. All the money I make in a month, plus some from my savings, would go to rent. That means, all my other necessities like food, clothes, things for school, gas, phone, car, insurance, entertainment (all work and no play makes Tina go insane), and any other unforeseen expense would have to get paid with my savings. I don’t know about you, but I want to quickly pay of my $50,000 student loan (which is going to turn into an $80,000 student loan if I decide to go back an extra year for my bachelors).
After a lot of analyzing, I think we should go for it.
We talked to a guy from management and he decided that we could get out of our lease (especially since my name wasn’t on mine) and get the apartment together (I wonder what the Psycho Lady’s reaction will be when she sees me moving my stuff out of my apartment and then put it in the big apartment upstairs).
So, since I still don’t have a camera (unfortunately I need to pay for such things as food so I don't starve to death) and since we left Indy’s camera at a club two weeks ago (I'm glad it wasn't an expensive camera), I’ll just use the pictures from the building's website.
This is the view I have from my apartment now:
And this is the view I’ll be getting in my new apartment with Indy:
A bit of an improvement don’t you think. It’s going to take a few days to get through all the legal things, but we should be in our new apartment by next week. I know it's a bit crazy, but I have a feeling it's all going to work.
We were practically living together. It had happened so gradually that I didn’t even notice. Did this freak me out? Surprisingly, no. I felt weird. Normally, I would’ve freaked out at the thought of someone practically moving themselves into my apartment. This didn’t freak me out at all. When my ex used to leave his stuff at my house (even if it was just a CD) I would flip because I felt like my space was being invaded. That, and because I didn’t want his things in my house if we ever broke up.
Were we really living together? I figured I might as well be blunt about it and ask Indy. “Are we living together?” He looked up from behind his book, stared at me, then slowly started tilting his head. He was thinking. “I think we are. I mean, there’s only soda in my fridge now because I always eat here. The only thing I go up there for lately is to get clothes, and those end up getting left here so my closet is getting pretty empty.” He stopped for a minute then continued. “I could move my stuff back upstairs if you want me to if it bothers you. I didn’t mean to. It just kind of happened.” It did just kind of happen.
What I was really confused about was the fact that I wasn’t freaked out or bothered by it. I liked waking up and having coffee waiting for me. I liked that I no longer had to use a step ladder whenever I needed something from the top shelf. I was amazed every time Indy automatically started setting the table when he saw that food was almost ready, and I was even more amazed that he’d help me clean up when we finished eating. I didn’t mind having him around all the time. I like it.
When I found out my parents were moving to New York and that I would be moving downtown, I was a little scared. Downtown LA can be scary. Of course, living in a really nice building takes away some of the oh my god, someone is going to break into my apartment and kill me in the middle of the night feeling. Come to think of it, this place is starting to grow on me. I’m five minutes away from school, and fifteen minutes away from work. The place is absolutely beautiful (even though you can’t throw pennies in the fountain and take a flower from the gardens). If I want to work out, I can go downstairs to the gym. If I feel like relaxing, I can sit by the pool, sit in the jacuzzi, sit in the sauna, lie down in the tanning bed, or get a massage (they have massage tables but I’m not sure if you have to bring someone in to give you a massage). If I feel like going somewhere, I just call the front desk and they make reservations for me (if you‘re ever get a chance, I recommend going to see Wicked because I loved it). If I need cash, there’s a handy dandy ATM machine downstairs. It’s a very nice place to live in, but it’s just really expensive.
I started thinking. I’m paying a little over $2,000 for this small 750 sq ft one bedroom one bathroom apartment. It’s crammed with my things, and my never ending pile of school supplies just keeps getting bigger. It’s just too small. I need a bigger place, but that means it would cost more money. I don’t want to get a place in a really shady area because then I’d have the oh my god, someone is going to break into my apartment and kill me in the middle of the night feeling all the time.
I figured I might as well be blunt with Indy again. “This place is too small. It’s crammed with stuff.” Indy put down his book, stared at me, then slowly started tilting his head (he always reminded me of a cute puppy when he did that). He was thinking again. “I told you I could move my stuff back up, but it’ll probably end up down here in a week or so.” He stopped again, then started tilting his head again. “Or I could bring down the small amount of stuff I have left upstairs and you could put all your school supplies upstairs and use it as a work area.” I couldn’t do that. If my school stuff was upstairs, then I would get lazy and not want to go all the way upstairs to do my work. Not to mention it would be a waste to pay $2,000 for a place to only do my work.
All of a sudden, Indy quickly tilted his head. This mean he had a brilliant idea. “We’re both paying $2,000 for a one bedroom, one bathroom place. Combined that’s almost $4,500. For just one or two hundred dollars more than what we each are paying right now, we could get a two bedroom, two bathroom place upstairs. It would be cheaper for both of us. You could use the second room for your work. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch if you don’t want to share your bed… Just a thought.” A brilliant thought in my opinion.
Indy had been spending about five minutes a day in his apartment, and this past week he hadn’t even gone up there. That’s over $2,000 on an empty apartment. My parents were no where to be found, I was going to be paying for my own apartment anyways. And if you really think about it, we both would have to pay about $800 less that what we’re paying right now if we got a bigger apartment together. It made sense, but was it a bit hasty to officially move in together. Maybe, but what would the difference be. He was always in my apartment, and I got a good look at his apartment a few minutes ago and it was empty. We were wasting money when we could be saving money.
We talked it out, sat down and out it on paper to see if it made sense. It did. I was making about $300 a week at the restaurant because I was only working part time since I had school. With tips, was up to about $500 a week (a smile goes a long way). That’s about $2,000 a month. My rent was currently a little over $2000 a month. All the money I make in a month, plus some from my savings, would go to rent. That means, all my other necessities like food, clothes, things for school, gas, phone, car, insurance, entertainment (all work and no play makes Tina go insane), and any other unforeseen expense would have to get paid with my savings. I don’t know about you, but I want to quickly pay of my $50,000 student loan (which is going to turn into an $80,000 student loan if I decide to go back an extra year for my bachelors).
After a lot of analyzing, I think we should go for it.
We talked to a guy from management and he decided that we could get out of our lease (especially since my name wasn’t on mine) and get the apartment together (I wonder what the Psycho Lady’s reaction will be when she sees me moving my stuff out of my apartment and then put it in the big apartment upstairs).
So, since I still don’t have a camera (unfortunately I need to pay for such things as food so I don't starve to death) and since we left Indy’s camera at a club two weeks ago (I'm glad it wasn't an expensive camera), I’ll just use the pictures from the building's website.
This is the view I have from my apartment now:
And this is the view I’ll be getting in my new apartment with Indy:
A bit of an improvement don’t you think. It’s going to take a few days to get through all the legal things, but we should be in our new apartment by next week. I know it's a bit crazy, but I have a feeling it's all going to work.
I Did It!
They didn't think I could do it, but I did it!
I went to the doctor on Thursday to see how well I was healing. They told me it would be at least another two weeks until I could start walking without crutches since my leg was weak and it would be too painful. Was my leg really that messes up? I didn't think so. The moment I got home, I told Indy to sit on the couch and to not get up or else I would smack him with one of the crutches. He listened. He knew I was determined.
I stood up and let go of the crutches. It took a few tries, but I slowly tried putting a little weight weight on my left leg. I would hop on my right then put a tiny bit of weight on my left. It hurt at first, but the more I tried, the easier it became. I spent all day yesterday doing the same thing, and I managed to walk almost completely normal today. It still hurts, but no pain, no gain.
So I leave you with my final thought:
Fuck crutches. Fuck physical therapy. And fuck not being able to walk.
That is all.
I went to the doctor on Thursday to see how well I was healing. They told me it would be at least another two weeks until I could start walking without crutches since my leg was weak and it would be too painful. Was my leg really that messes up? I didn't think so. The moment I got home, I told Indy to sit on the couch and to not get up or else I would smack him with one of the crutches. He listened. He knew I was determined.
I stood up and let go of the crutches. It took a few tries, but I slowly tried putting a little weight weight on my left leg. I would hop on my right then put a tiny bit of weight on my left. It hurt at first, but the more I tried, the easier it became. I spent all day yesterday doing the same thing, and I managed to walk almost completely normal today. It still hurts, but no pain, no gain.
So I leave you with my final thought:
Fuck crutches. Fuck physical therapy. And fuck not being able to walk.
That is all.
Who's Laughing Now?
Indy drove me to get food earlier. When I was getting out of the car, the evil psycho lady parked next to us. She got out and started taking some of the things from her trunk. Right as I finished getting out of the cars (and tis wasn't easy because my left arm and leg still aren't cooperating), I saw her get an evil smirk on her face. Was she laughing at me? I watched her for a minute and then I realized my food was going to get cold and she really wasn't worth it.
I walked/hopped away and heard a laugh. One single evil low laugh. That psycho bitch was laughing at me. Oh, it was on. It was on like Donkey Kong.
I told Indy to pick me up because we would get to the elevator quicker if he carried me. Why was I suddenly in such a hurry to get to the elevator? I had a plan. I had seen the psycho lady's trunk and it was filled with bags. There was no way she'd walk up the stairs with all those bags. I've seen her at the gym downstairs, and she always broke out in a sweat and started panting about a minute and a half after she got on the treadmill. She'd have to take the elevator. When we got to my floor, I told Indy to run into my apartment and get the big box empty box that was in my closet. I stayed in the elevator and made sure it stayed open. Indy came out with the box and we placed it half way between the elevator and the hallway so that the doors would keep opening up when they tried to close.
We ran (I hopped) to my apartment and waited. I knew that the guy at the front desk wouldn't come up to see why the elevator wasn't coming down (he refuses to abandon his post), so the psych bitch would have to take the stairs. Indy and I ate on the floor by the door so we wouldn't miss it when the psycho bitch came up.
After twenty minutes, we heard someone down the hallway. We carefully opened the door a little and peeked. The psycho bitch had about six heavy bags in each hand and was out of breath. She slowly dragged herself and the bags down the hallway. When she reached the elevator, she stopped and dropped her bags. I'm pretty sure some eggs or soda exploded because I saw something splatter on her. Then, she screamed. If you've ever seen Mean Girls, then you probably remember the insanely long, ear piercing scream that Rachael McAdams' character let out when she found out that Lindsey Lohan was making her fat. It wasn't exactly that high pitched, but that's what I was reminded of. She looked mad.
The psycho bitch didn't even bother to pick up the bags, she just stomped to her door, opened it, and slammed it behind her. I, of course, laughed my socks off.
I walked/hopped away and heard a laugh. One single evil low laugh. That psycho bitch was laughing at me. Oh, it was on. It was on like Donkey Kong.
I told Indy to pick me up because we would get to the elevator quicker if he carried me. Why was I suddenly in such a hurry to get to the elevator? I had a plan. I had seen the psycho lady's trunk and it was filled with bags. There was no way she'd walk up the stairs with all those bags. I've seen her at the gym downstairs, and she always broke out in a sweat and started panting about a minute and a half after she got on the treadmill. She'd have to take the elevator. When we got to my floor, I told Indy to run into my apartment and get the big box empty box that was in my closet. I stayed in the elevator and made sure it stayed open. Indy came out with the box and we placed it half way between the elevator and the hallway so that the doors would keep opening up when they tried to close.
We ran (I hopped) to my apartment and waited. I knew that the guy at the front desk wouldn't come up to see why the elevator wasn't coming down (he refuses to abandon his post), so the psych bitch would have to take the stairs. Indy and I ate on the floor by the door so we wouldn't miss it when the psycho bitch came up.
After twenty minutes, we heard someone down the hallway. We carefully opened the door a little and peeked. The psycho bitch had about six heavy bags in each hand and was out of breath. She slowly dragged herself and the bags down the hallway. When she reached the elevator, she stopped and dropped her bags. I'm pretty sure some eggs or soda exploded because I saw something splatter on her. Then, she screamed. If you've ever seen Mean Girls, then you probably remember the insanely long, ear piercing scream that Rachael McAdams' character let out when she found out that Lindsey Lohan was making her fat. It wasn't exactly that high pitched, but that's what I was reminded of. She looked mad.
The psycho bitch didn't even bother to pick up the bags, she just stomped to her door, opened it, and slammed it behind her. I, of course, laughed my socks off.
$2,000 Rent
An hour ago, someone from management came to inform me that they've been trying to contact my parents for the past few days to discuss the payment of my $2,000 one bedroom one bathroom 750 sq. ft. apartment they stuck me in as an apology for moving to New York without telling me. I told the guy that I had been trying to contact them and that it was pretty hopeless. I was then informed that if my parents couldn't be contacted, then I would have to pay the damn $2,000 for an apartment I wasn't particularly fond of. What the fuck. I saw this coming the moment my parents told me they were sorry they hadn't told me they were moving and that they were going to get me an apartment and pay for it because it wasn't fair that they were leaving me homeless on such short notice (their words, not mine).
Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with paying my own rent. I just have a problem with my parents sticking me in an apartment I don't like and then disappearing. I told them that they didn't have to pay for my apartment because I would be more than happy to temporarily move in with a friend (who was thrilled at the idea because she would no longer have to cook) until I found another place to live. They came home with the key to this apartment and told me that I might as well move in here because I wouldn't have to worry about paying rent.
So instead of saving me money, my parents have just raised my bills by $2,000 dollars (it's actually a bit more than that). Luckily, I have some money that I saved up for a rainy day so I have enough to pay for it (I'm actually using the money I've been saving up to pay off my $50,000 student loan once I graduate next year so it won't haunt me for a decade or two).
Hooray for ridiculously expensive small apartments with horrible neighbors surrounding it. (Except for Indy. He's the only nice one around.)
Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with paying my own rent. I just have a problem with my parents sticking me in an apartment I don't like and then disappearing. I told them that they didn't have to pay for my apartment because I would be more than happy to temporarily move in with a friend (who was thrilled at the idea because she would no longer have to cook) until I found another place to live. They came home with the key to this apartment and told me that I might as well move in here because I wouldn't have to worry about paying rent.
So instead of saving me money, my parents have just raised my bills by $2,000 dollars (it's actually a bit more than that). Luckily, I have some money that I saved up for a rainy day so I have enough to pay for it (I'm actually using the money I've been saving up to pay off my $50,000 student loan once I graduate next year so it won't haunt me for a decade or two).
Hooray for ridiculously expensive small apartments with horrible neighbors surrounding it. (Except for Indy. He's the only nice one around.)
Crutches
I don't think I'll be able to figure them out. I'm not even sure why they gave them to me. They're too big and I have one of my arms in a sling so it's nearly impossible for me to use them. I look like a hopping idiot who keeps falling over whenever I try to use them.
I haven't given up, but I think I might have to because I'm only hurting myself more every time I fall over.
I haven't given up, but I think I might have to because I'm only hurting myself more every time I fall over.
I'm Back!
I'm home now and I feel like someone who got hit by a bus... which is exactly what happened to me, so I guess it's normal to be feeling like this. A while ago, I wrote a blog about the killer buses here in Downtown LA. I find this very ironic because a bus almost killed me on Friday.
I was merrily driving back from school and I started getting a little worried about the out of service bus on my right. It kept getting too close to me so I decided to slow down a bit and leave room for it to get in front of me if that was what it was trying to do. I avoided getting next to it and this went on for a block or two until it reached the right lane must turn right sign.
Instead of switching lanes in front of me (which it could've easily done because i left plenty of room), it decided to slam on it's brakes and swerve straight into me. I got hit on my passenger side (luckily no one was there), and I was pushed into the next lane where I immediately was hit by a pickup truck. I don't actually remember getting hit my the truck, but I do remember looking over and thinking "oh shit, I just got hit by a bus and now I'm gonna get hit by a truck".
I remember kind of waking up for a second in a lot of pain while I was getting wheeled into the ambulance on the stretcher. I slightly turned my head (which was not easy to do with a brace around my neck so I had to turn my whole upper body) and saw a dog looking up and barking at something. I looked up and saw a cat leap across one building to another. It looked like it was flying. I thought I might've been hallucinating, but I heard one of the paramedics say "that cat looked like it was flying" (I've now made it a goal to find that paramedic to confirm my story because Indy is convinced I was hallucinating).
The next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital and Indy is by my side. How did he get there? Apparently he wanted to know if I wanted food since he knew I was on my way home. He called a few times and one of the paramedics picked up while they were putting me in the ambulance and told Indy what had happened. He immediately got in his car and sped on over to the hospital. He got pulled over and told the officer that he was speeding because I had gotten in an accident. The officer let him go with a warning and Indy came to my side (Indiana Jones gear and all).
At first I didn't realize I had been in an accident, but I quickly remembered when I tried to move my arm and it felt like I was getting stabbed. A piece of glass had been stuck in my left arm and I now had 20 stitches to close up the gash (I'm glad I'm right handed). It had also been trapped so I was having a really hard time moving it (especially since my arm was in a sling). My pain went away and I started laughing when I saw Indy in his Indiana Jones gear. He had called in sick when he found out what had happened but didn't have enough time to change so he was stuck in his work clothes.
After drinking a lot of apple juice, I got up to use the restroom and realized that my left leg was not cooperating because it had been trapped when the truck hit me. Of course, everything was spinning and blurry and I had a major head ache because I had a mind concussion (i hit my head on something). If you read my last blog, I apologize for not making much sense. The moment they put that thing in my IV I started going a little kooky (and I apparently became very amused by horrible tasting jello) and using an iPhone became incredibly difficult.
On Friday night, Indy ended up spending the night with me at the hospital because he fell asleep holding me and I begged the nurse to let him stay because I didn't want to wake him up and because having someone good to look at during the night would make me feel better (unfortunately they didn't let him stay on Saturday and Sunday night).
Now I'm at home and I am so glad because hospital food is disgusting. I saw some pictures of my car and it's a mess. It has giant dents on both sides and it looks like it's going to be impossible to fix (especially since the left side of my engine is squished in). Luckily, because of my insurance (and because the city is going to give me some money because the bus caused it all) I'm getting a brand new car. I'm not exactly sure of all the details, but I was informed that my car was not fixable and that I was getting a new car. That's all I needed to know.
Indy and my best friend are taking turns watching me because I still haven't dominated using crutches and I've fallen over a few times. The room is no longer spinning and I am thrilled because I don't feel like I just got off the tea cup ride at Disneyland anymore. I'm glad I'm in one piece and I'm a quick healer so I expect to be back to normal in no time.
I leave you with one last thought:
BEWARE OF THE KILLER BUSES IN DOWNTOWN LA!!!
I was merrily driving back from school and I started getting a little worried about the out of service bus on my right. It kept getting too close to me so I decided to slow down a bit and leave room for it to get in front of me if that was what it was trying to do. I avoided getting next to it and this went on for a block or two until it reached the right lane must turn right sign.
Instead of switching lanes in front of me (which it could've easily done because i left plenty of room), it decided to slam on it's brakes and swerve straight into me. I got hit on my passenger side (luckily no one was there), and I was pushed into the next lane where I immediately was hit by a pickup truck. I don't actually remember getting hit my the truck, but I do remember looking over and thinking "oh shit, I just got hit by a bus and now I'm gonna get hit by a truck".
I remember kind of waking up for a second in a lot of pain while I was getting wheeled into the ambulance on the stretcher. I slightly turned my head (which was not easy to do with a brace around my neck so I had to turn my whole upper body) and saw a dog looking up and barking at something. I looked up and saw a cat leap across one building to another. It looked like it was flying. I thought I might've been hallucinating, but I heard one of the paramedics say "that cat looked like it was flying" (I've now made it a goal to find that paramedic to confirm my story because Indy is convinced I was hallucinating).
The next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital and Indy is by my side. How did he get there? Apparently he wanted to know if I wanted food since he knew I was on my way home. He called a few times and one of the paramedics picked up while they were putting me in the ambulance and told Indy what had happened. He immediately got in his car and sped on over to the hospital. He got pulled over and told the officer that he was speeding because I had gotten in an accident. The officer let him go with a warning and Indy came to my side (Indiana Jones gear and all).
At first I didn't realize I had been in an accident, but I quickly remembered when I tried to move my arm and it felt like I was getting stabbed. A piece of glass had been stuck in my left arm and I now had 20 stitches to close up the gash (I'm glad I'm right handed). It had also been trapped so I was having a really hard time moving it (especially since my arm was in a sling). My pain went away and I started laughing when I saw Indy in his Indiana Jones gear. He had called in sick when he found out what had happened but didn't have enough time to change so he was stuck in his work clothes.
After drinking a lot of apple juice, I got up to use the restroom and realized that my left leg was not cooperating because it had been trapped when the truck hit me. Of course, everything was spinning and blurry and I had a major head ache because I had a mind concussion (i hit my head on something). If you read my last blog, I apologize for not making much sense. The moment they put that thing in my IV I started going a little kooky (and I apparently became very amused by horrible tasting jello) and using an iPhone became incredibly difficult.
On Friday night, Indy ended up spending the night with me at the hospital because he fell asleep holding me and I begged the nurse to let him stay because I didn't want to wake him up and because having someone good to look at during the night would make me feel better (unfortunately they didn't let him stay on Saturday and Sunday night).
Now I'm at home and I am so glad because hospital food is disgusting. I saw some pictures of my car and it's a mess. It has giant dents on both sides and it looks like it's going to be impossible to fix (especially since the left side of my engine is squished in). Luckily, because of my insurance (and because the city is going to give me some money because the bus caused it all) I'm getting a brand new car. I'm not exactly sure of all the details, but I was informed that my car was not fixable and that I was getting a new car. That's all I needed to know.
Indy and my best friend are taking turns watching me because I still haven't dominated using crutches and I've fallen over a few times. The room is no longer spinning and I am thrilled because I don't feel like I just got off the tea cup ride at Disneyland anymore. I'm glad I'm in one piece and I'm a quick healer so I expect to be back to normal in no time.
I leave you with one last thought:
BEWARE OF THE KILLER BUSES IN DOWNTOWN LA!!!
Guess Where I'm Writing From
If your guess was the hospital, then you're right. I got into a pretty bad car accident today (damn bus could've killed me) so they're keeping me in here for a day or two. I have a mild concusion, a minor limp in my left leg, and my left arm is in a slig. I'm ok for the most part, but I can't say the same for my poor car.
The nurse just yelled at me for using me friend's iPhone to write this.
I'll share details when I don't feel like the whole room is spinning (not sure if that's the concusion or the drugs they just put in my IV so I won't be in a lot of pain). The good thing is that I'm ok and that I have no idea what's going on right now but that's ok because I probably won't remeber writing this anyways because I already forgot that I ate jello an hour ago and i don't remember if it was good or not since I apparently fell asleep half way through eating it so I'm guessing that it wasn't that good because if it was then I probably wouldn't have fallen asleep.
I have Indy (he was here by my side when I woke up) and my best friend with me. My other friend's are getting pist because only two visitors are allowed at a time and their Indy nor my best friend want to leave, so one of them is apparently trying to flirt with the security guard to see if more can come in. That ought to be funny.
I'm going to go now because this thing is harder to use than I thought and I keep poking at the screen and I feel like an idiot becauses I keep poking at the wrong thing.
Oh ya, I saw a dog that flying cat today, but that's a completely different story and I think I might've been delusional but I heard aomeone else comment on it so I probably wasn't.
I'll share soon. Bye
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