"She's Dead, Jim" -Dr. L. McCoy "Bones" at one point, probably

Aka: The story of my life...

No shit, true story...there I was...surfing the interwebs, checking my tumblr, forwarding the hot topic slactivism post of the day on facebook, checking google+ for updates (ahahahaha, yeah, all like, two of them), and tweeting about One Direction...as you do.

We are a bit poor at the moment. Thanks to jury duty (super long, intense case) wrecking havoc on my paycheck, and a horribly ill timed child support snafu, things have been "a bit tense" around the Duran/Lamb Household. It also goes without saying (but I will say it anyway because I can), that One Direction tickets are not high priority item. My eldest daughter was totally into them when she was in 8th grade...like TOTALLY. This was here birthday cake...she was also going through her Batman phase.

BUT...we were in the car the day before, chatting, having a total mom/daughter mo, and I said, "wouldn't it be cool if someone just gave us free tickets to One Direction?" and Cat was like "hell yeah, i would totally go!" only without the swearing because, yeah. 

Lets cut to the next day. I was at work when she texted me. She asked if i wanted free tickets to One Direction that night.

What? 

She then texted me to call her boyfriend's father, as he received free tickets to the show and couldn't go. I almost shat my pants. 

Turns out, yes, he had free tickets, SUITE tickets, with free food and drink, and a sweet sweet parking pass next the stadium. I only had to stop by his son's work, pick them up, and they were mine. No strings, no promises, no nothing, just sweet sweet concert tickets I would have not been able to afford even if I had my full paycheck. (Seriously, it was THE concert of the season for girls 12-16).   I jetted out of work a bit early, ran home, picked up the teen, and then we stopped by her best friend's house (a HUGE fan), knocked on the door, and said "Get in loser, we're going Directioning!". Okay, okay, it was more like, get in the car! one direction! you need shoes!" and off we went. 

To put it succinctly, it was the best day ever. 

I make no apologies for liking their music. It's not my guilty pleasure. it's just pleasure. I had a great time, and my daughter and her friend danced, and sang along, and became overwrought with emotion, and for one shining moment they forgot about being "cool" and liking unsigned, independent bands, finding the latest vinyl release of same said band, and just reveled in the moment of being young, and seeing one of their favorites live on stage. 

The concert ended and we began our long trek across the valley. It was late, we were pumped, but tired. So so very tired. About halfway there, my trusty little car, who had up until this point, been zipping along the freeway at a comfortable 70mph, all of a sudden did this horrible swerve-y, wobbley thing that nearly caused me to wee in my skinny stretch jeans. It was as if we had a flat tire. As we were in the middle of the freeway I had to get over, and we did manage to safely. I got out, checked all the tires, and couldn't see anything wrong. So, thinking it was something to do with the road (hey man, i'm ignorant in matters of cars), I merged back onto the freeway.

To make a long and boring shorter, but no less boring, we ended up having to pull over again or we would die. I checked 3/4 of the tires (by taking them off and putting them back on again...hey, it worked for The IT Crowd). AAA arrived in the midst of the third tire, followed by Officer Friendly (that wasn't his name). Two cars stopped within minutes of each other to see if I needed any help (one full of attractive teenager-ish boys). I shooed them away from my teenage passengers with  thanks for their chivalry. The tow truck driver said there was nothing wrong with the tires, and I told him to watch as I drove a few feet. 

He freaked when he saw how bad my tired wobbled. We took the final tire off, and my brake pad drum thingie just didn't look right. It was loose and wobbly and so very hard to turn. If I were to continue to drive it eventually would have wobbled so hard it would have broken off and sailed off into the wild dark yonder, free to live its life independently of its brothers.  

The car would have to be towed. 

The problem was, I didn't have money. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada. So I couldn't afford to have it towed all way back to the other side of the valley. I got the first 5 miles free, and then after that it was $5 every mile. The only thing I COULD do was have it towed off the freeway, and then pray someone would come and save me the next day and help me get it home. Of course I was posting about this on facebook as it was occurring, and the tow truck driver was laughing at all my selfie-taking.

Eventually, a friend rescued us and took us home. I was worn out and near tears but tried to be brave. My car is my lifeline. I couldn't make it to work the next day, and as supervisor, that just gutted me. 

The next morning, my amazing cousin, who works graves for department of corrections, picked me up and took me to my car to try and fix it. After two hours of blood, sweat, tears, and swearing, it was given up as hopeless. We had to call another tow truck.  My cousin paid for the tow home and put me in contact with a mechanic who made house calls. 

At first, he was cool, helpful even. Then things took a creepy turn for the worse, asking me if I lived alone, or if my cousin lived with me, offered to hypnotise me so I could lose weight, because he did it for a female friend of his and they had a lot of fun with that (but not that he was saying I was fat), and then said that he left all of his tools at his other site, but would be back tomorrow to fix my car, and I could pay him whenever. It was at THAT point that I started talking about my work in security, my time in the Marine Corps, my friendship with cops and  prosecuting attorneys, and that I would talk ALL ABOUT HIM ON ALL MY SOCIAL NETWORKS because he was so helpful.  He seemed to calm down at that point, but damn if that didn't leave sick feeling in my stomach, and a greater need to make sure all my doors and windows were locked. 

Maybe i *should* look into purchasing a firearm and brushing up on my shooting skills.

Which brings us back to today. I am home from work again, waiting to hear back from creepy mechanic guy. Either way I have to be at work tomorrow, which means I need a bus pass. *sigh*, which means I will have to ask for a ride somewhere. I hate it. HATE. IT. The Silver Bullet is on its last legs, and even if I could get her working, she is going to need to be replaced before the year is out, if not sooner. Worst case scenario is that I use public transportation until I get my tax refund check, and then hit up AutoTrader online and purchase myself a new (to me) vehicle. It's completely doable, just outright sucky. 

This whole thing puts a kink in plans we had scheduled for my daughter's upcoming 16th birthday, which included a mini road trip. Which is just insult to injury really. I wanted it to be special, and now I'm just hoping her birthday won't totally suck. 

So after having the best night without having to worry about paying for anything, I am now banging my head on the kitchen table trying to figure out how to pay for everything. This month was just the perfect storm for financial black holes and I am struggling to break free of their gravity before I reach total spaghettification. 

I am thankful that this didn't happen on the way to work, in the middle of rush hour, when I would have been going a bit faster. I am thankful the girls who were with me were safe, and that I had quite a bit of people who did, and still are, looking out for me. I know these financial straits will pass, the court case I'm sitting on the jury for will end, my ex-husband will get back from the field and look into what he can do about the child support issue, and I will commence getting my full paycheck again. But, man...seriously, the time before that sucks! 

Wow, that went from happy go lucky to "it's the end of days!" in two shakes of a lamb's tail, but that is life. That is it right there. There are moments of joy, and excitement, and friendship and love, and then there moments of anger and sadness, anxiety and frustration, fear and loathing (in las vegas and elsewhere).  

And to my dear Silver Bullet,  it was mentioned once or twice that you weren't a great car, umm, there times when I didn't even think you were a good one, but let me tell you this, you were the best car, and the fastest car that I've ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you were nerdy. I was so alone, and I owe you so much, but please, there's just one more thing, one more miracle, Silver Bullet, for me. Don't...be...dead. Would you, just for me, just stop it? Stop this?

Thank you readers, for sticking around to then of this blog! It was a doozy! I apologize now for the wordy run on sentences, abuse and misuse of parenthesis and ellipses. This has not been beta'd and the tenses are all over the place!

I leave you now with this video. Happy Thursday, Kids.

Ps, wouldn't it be cool if someone gave me a free car?

 

New Kid on the Block

Not to be confused with the band The New Kids on the block...

I'm going to be honest, I clicked on an app by accident and ended up here. Very rarely do I have something of note to share, and if i do...well isn't that what facebook statues are for?

Although, in the *near* future, I will have a plethora of hilarious stories to tell about my most recent stint on jury duty. Seriously, there is comedy gold in them thar hills.

So, in the meantime, allow me to wax neurotic about myself, and get you caught up to speed on the bundle of angst and manic joy that is my life.

I am a Doctor Who fan. I just watched the new episode (Deep Breath). I discovered Who over two years ago thanks to a recent Netflix subscription and some unannounced free time thanks to losing my job. And by "losing my job" i clearly mean my ass was fired. To be fair, I totally saw it coming. I did, but there's a whole lot of other stuff that plays into that, and frankly not a time I would like to relive thank you very much. Anyway, Doctor Who came into my life right when I needed it, much like Sherlock, roller derby, my best friend, and those sweet sweet sparkly ballet flats that are sooooo in right now.

I am single and ready for a pringle. You wanna know how I got these scars? *flexes arm, points to under bicep area*, well the last "date" I was on (and I use that term very loosely), the gentleman (also used very loosely) tried to show off his mad driving skills and ended up wrecking the car. It was at that moment, when I came to, it occured to me that he was never going to call me back. I walked away that day with a bleeding arm and a mild concussion, secure in that knowledge. Alas, I was right, sort of. I received a couple of texts making sure I was ok, and that I wasn't going to sue, then off he popped on his merry way. His facebook feed was then littered of him going on these amazing dates with a prettier, skinnier, longer haired chick. *sigh*. Such is life. Although I should have seen it coming. When I asked him what his favorite song lyric and he told me the lyrics, a red flag went up.

Here's a protip kids: if their song lyric is "Fuck my soulmate, I just need somebody" then chances are they are not in it for the long haul. (Song is Forgotten by Tickle Torture)

Since then my love life has resembled the arctic tundra...frigid, barren, treeless, and empty. Save for the battery operated warmth of a few lonely outposts, its been day after day of the same ol' same ol'.  The unanticipated drawback to this is that I have become unaccustomed to casual touches from people. Despite being damn near starving for human warmth and contact I instinctively shy away and tense up when someone attempts to invade my perimeter. Although, recently I was the recipient of the most awesome hug from a dude to date. He's a guy that works in my building. Super hot, super nice, and just super friendly. He came up to me last week or so and wrapped me tight in this amazing hug for what seemed like minutes, but wasn't. He didn't scrimp on the cuddle/squeezing. My only regret is that I tensed up and gave him the old "one armed awkward hug" that I am known for. I managed to squeeze back, but I didn't fully commit and I regret that to this day.

Here's a protip kids: when you hug someone, do it with both arms and give it all you've got. Go Big or Go Home. Never regret not hugging someone for all their worth.

Among other interesting tidbits that we will eventually get to, because deep down, and not so deep down, I am bit of an egotistical bastard, I used to belly dance, have been called a witch a time or two (mostly by my coven sisters), briefly flirted with roller derby, had a couple kids (they're teens now and are alright, so I guess I'll keep them), got married, got divorced, didn't date, dated, became single and that pretty much brings us up to the present. Oh, and I have a job. It's a decent job. It's not a forever one, but it pays the bills and allows me to spend money on Doctor Who merch, cons, sparkly ballet flats (which, if I haven't mentioned, are soooo in right now).

Hopefully, a few of you will stick around. This might be a fun ride, or...it could just fade into the ether, destined to become another victim of "lack of interest" and be sucked back into the void that is the deep web.

Happy Saturday, Kids.