Grading Myself

I have a group of friends who I have been posting with on various forms of social media since 2001. (First we were on messageboards, then we were moved to something that tried to be like myspace plus messageboards, then about 18 months ago we moved to Facebook.) Every year, we make our new year's resolutions and then in the following December we review our list to assess our progress. Sometimes one of the people in this group will remind us that we've been resolving every year since 20o7 to leave that job or lose those 25 pounds, which makes the annual resolution review particularly painful. Not that I speak from experience or anything.

So yesterday, someone suggested our annual resolution review and I immediately felt sick over the annual recriminations after realizing I have still made no progress on my list. But then when I went and found my blog post on the topic, I realized I kind of DID make some progress on several of them, and that was a pretty cool realization. Here's my list for the past year:

1. Resolve my job situation on my own terms.
If by "resolve," I meant "realize I am stuck here until the economy turns, and make the best of it," or perhaps just "don't get fired in the worst economic disaster of my generation," then yes. I resolved. But I am still in the same job I have had since January 2006. So, you do the math.

2. Become more frugal, in order to save money for a new mortgage.
I saved over $10K in the past year, and did get a new mortgage. I also blew all those savings on home renovations that currently carry a pricetag of almost $20K, and climbing. Oh joy. But yay, I finally got that mortgage, and the crushing debt load that comes with it! (Sometimes, adult milestones don't make you feel like you thought they would.)

3. Cook dinner more often at home, and eat healthier.
I barely cooked at home at all this year, but I did manage to follow Weight Watchers for 6 months and lose 20 pounds. (I've undone 6 pounds of that in the last 3 months though, and need desperately to get back on the program in 2 weeks when the holidays are behind us.

4. Cut caffeine from my daily diet.
Oh this is just too funny. I think I reduced my intake for like a month before I gave up. In fairness, I did say it would be the hardest one on the list to stick with. I think it was when I started dieting in earnest that I realized trying to quit caffeine while trying to quit every delicious food in the world is like the single most masochistic thing I could have attempted.

5. Begin exercising regularly, including attempting to start running on a regular basis by the end of the year.
In March I started working out on a regular basis and by May I was working out 5 nights a week on a treadmill. I even managed to do several long distances of 9 or 10 miles at a time, without dying. But then I stopped because I got sick in September, and then work became unbearably busy. I also never graduated to running. But, I am resolving to get back on the horse in the new year on this one. And by horse, I mean treadmill.

6. Remove as much stress from my life as possible.
Ha! What a fool I was.

7. FINALLY finish decorating this house--just need 2 rooms painted, and possibly a new desk in the guest room.
Or, y'know, I could decide instead to completely renovate the outside of the house and make zero progress indoors. The closest I got to progress on this front was having new light fixtures installed in my kitchen, and picking paint colors for my bedroom. BUT, I hope to finally get that painting actually done in 2010. Maybe.

8. Spend more time with family, since my grandparents are here now and both rapidly approaching 90.
This went well for the first half of the year when work was slow, and badly for the second half once I got super busy at work. Sunday dinners are hard to make it to when you work every Sunday. My grandpa is declining fairly steadily, though, so I really do need to make more time to be around him while I still have the chance. He turns 90 in January.

9. Focus on my writing, and really push myself to take the time for quality over filler.
Yeah, not so much. I had a couple decent blog posts this year, perhaps ones I will even assemble into a top 10 list if I find 10 I am at least halfway proud of. But for the most part, this year was slow on the writing front. I resolve to do better next year. (She said, as she wrote a blog post that could arguably be deemed "filler.")

10. Do something big and out of character. Details to come.
So, now that I didn't do it after all, I can reveal that my plan was to run a half marathon on Thanksgiving day. That obviously didn't happen, nor will I be running the March half marathon at Disney World that I was thinking of trying. However, I do want to try and complete a half marathon at some point, so I am going to try and carry this one over to the new year as well. But I did do something fairly out of character this year, and it was scary as hell: I went to Biloxi by myself and played in a poker tournament. I nearly got hives just thinking about doing it, but I'm glad I did. Even if I lost a lot of money and came away having yet again underperformed against the big boys.

Despite what this list might indicate, 2009 was a big year for me in several ways. As I look back, I'm pleased with where I've traveled to and hopeful that 2010 will be a year of even more change. I'll be thinking about my resolutions for 2010 in the next few weeks (several of them will be virtually identical, of course), but for now I think I give my progress in 2009 a B-. But of course, I resolve to do better next year, too.

Bleh

In order to avoid shaking off my blogging block by writing yet another "sometimes I don't want to be a lawyer" post, I'm going to steal a meme wholesale from my friend Jen. What's on your bucket list--things I want to do before I die. I feel pretty certain that I've done something like this before, but I am too lazy to look in the archives. Plus, I suspect the list has changed since then. So, on my list go the following:

1. Travel to Europe, Australia, and points between. And Las Vegas.
2. Own a house.
3. Have a baby. (I know this one's new to the list. Goddamned biological clock.)
4. Wear a size 8. Even if I have to starve myself to do it.
5. Do something incredibly physically demanding like run a marathon or climb a mountain, even if just once.
6. Get in touch with my cousin Stacey again, who I haven't talked to since I was 10.
7. Fall in love again with someone who loves me back.
8. Throw my parents a huge party for their 50th wedding anniversary.
9. Open a restaurant.
10. Have sex in a car. And on a beach. And under the stars outdoors somewhere. With someone incredibly hot.

That's all I can think of right now. Obviously some of those are things that would have to get scrapped if, say, I learned I had a year to live. But as for a list of things I want to do before I die...that's the list right now.

"They always look so much smaller without their spirits."

I was reminded of this quote, from the movie Cousins (one of my favorites) after viewing this series of portraits of terminally ill people before and after death. Warning, it may be disturbing or upsetting to you to view photographs of dead people even though there is nothing gory or graphic about the portraits. What struck me was how each of the people, in addition to obviously losing weight just before death, just seemed so much smaller than when they had been alive. But I was also interested to read their stories about facing death and then find the looks of peace on their faces. Their long struggles were finally over.

It's a very interesting series, and I found it on Dooce where it has inspired some strong reactions.

Unringing the bell

Scott Freeman over at Fresh Loaf has an interesting argument that Barry Bonds' indictment yesterday on perjury and obstruction of justice charges, coupled with a report that he tested positive for steroids at some undetermined time, may be grounds for vacating his home run record achieved earlier this year. (Y'know, in addition to the imminent threat of prosecution and all.)

When I heard about the indictment, my first thought was that I really wish this had happened a year ago so that we would not have had to see him break Hank Aaron's record. But now that the bell has been rung, do we really think the record-breaking can be undone because of evidence that Bonds used steroids...something that we all pretty much knew about as surely as we presume OJ Simpson killed his ex-wife?

We have no reason to believe that in the era of regular random testing, Bonds was juicing this past season when he broke the record. The argument would therefore have to be that the middle part of his slew of 752 home runs was steroid-fueled, though it is difficult to quantify for how long or to what degree. Information that Bonds tested positive at some point does not tell us whether he was definitely using during a season, and in particular during a season after MLB had outlawed steroids in 2002. Simply put, there's no way to know how many of Bonds' home runs might have been steroid-fueled, and there are plenty of people who will argue that he is a gifted enough batter even without the juice that to completely erase his record would be grossly unfair.

This issue has come up with the Reggie Bush financial support controversy, with some arguing that USC may have to forfeit one or both of their national titles if it appears Bush was receiving support payments from a hopeful media consultant/agent/whatever and USC was looking the other way. In both instances, I think there will be considerable public resistance to the notion of this sort of malfeasance resulting in such a harsh sanction, in particular when the sanction affects not just the individual player but their team as well. While the comparison to Marion Jones is interesting, Jones made the decision to voluntarily relinquish her Olympic medals because presumably she could not argue that they were not achieved through tainted training methods that included steroids. Something tells me Barry Bonds is going to go down fighting a little harder than that and argue that the one positive test was an aberration at worst, a false positive at the more likely best, and that therefore there is no basis for denying him the record he finally achieved in the random drug testing era.

It's all just very, very sad. Reggie Bush can argue that receiving financial support had nothing to do with his abilities or performance on the football field, and he's mostly right. But in college sports the rules are different and the NCAA has its reasons for enforcing its rules harshly in order to maintain an allegedly even playing field for all student athletes. In professional sports and in particular baseball, money is no object but there have to be limits on what players can do to bring themselves unfair advantages.

We may never know how often Barry Bonds used steroids or what advantage they gave him, but no matter what Bud Selig decides, the damage is done. That asterisk is burned on all of our brains whether it goes on his official record or not. And Barry is the one who ultimately has to live with that in the dark hours of the middle of the night alone with his soul and his conscience. I like to believe baseball players have this fundamental decency that comes from a game that has contained so many larger than life honorable figures, and if I'm right then Bonds may experience regret that no home run record trophy or plaque will ever alleviate.

Money where my mouth is

I got my water bill yesterday. It was $11.71, which is about average for me when I'm not watering the lawn. (In June, when my landscaping was new and I was allowed to water every day, my bill was $75.) My average daily usage was 0.04 CCF, which is thousands of cubic feet. Apparently one CCF equals about 748 gallons, so my average daily usage is about 30 gallons.

I was initially surprised by this--how in the hell am I using 30 gallons of water a day? Then I figured it's probably the showering. I only do laundry maybe twice a month, and I have one of those efficient front-loader washing machines that uses less water. I run the dishwasher maybe once a week if that, and I only even flush the toilet maybe twice a day. So, it's gotta be the showering. I take at least a 10 minute shower every single day, and that probably uses about 20 gallons of water. It's also unfortunately the one thing I'm not willing to give up. I might try to shave a minute off here or there, but I will still shower every single day. I have to.

Unlike some people, I'm not willing to schlep out in the cold to check my water meter every day and give you a daily update, but I'll still be trying to keep my water usage to a minimum. It's a hell of a lot smarter of a plan than praying for rain, anyhow.

It's never easy

(Jen and anyone else seriously afraid of the dentist, just stop reading now.)

So, as described below, I went to the dentist hopped up on Valium this morning. I was feeling pretty good and woozy when the doc injected me with novocaine about 12 times before starting the scaling. Unfortunately, in two of the spots I could feel the scaling and it hurt. Doc came back and injected me 3 more times in each of those two spots. Scaling was completed with some pain though it was bearable.

Then they had to do 2 fillings. Doctor injected me a third time on both sides on top, 3 shots each side. He completed drilling on one side, but when he moved to the other I kind of knew it wasn't numb. He tried anyway. And holy crap, when you drill into a tooth that isn't numbed it's like you got a full on electric shock of major voltage--that's how bad it hurt. I jumped, the dentist and hygienist jumped, and then they pumped that side full of novocaine a FOURTH time to get it fully numb before they were able to complete that filling.

So, to recap, I got a total of 12 injections the first time, 6 the second time, 6 the third time, and 3 the fourth time. That's 27 injections--and a total of 9 in the top left side of my mouth alone.

Of course, now I can't talk, can barely swallow, and can't actually even move most of the lower half of my face. It will probably be 3 or more hours before I can eat because of how much novocaine is in me right now. As I was being driven home, the friend who picked me up appeared mighty amused at how slurred my speech was. Or maybe that was because I was still high and therefore sounding loopy. Who knows.

Thankfully, the valium has worn off enough that I think I can drive into work. I won't be able to answer the phone when I get there, though.

(Those of you wondering why I need to take Valium to go to the dentist--THIS is why.)

Because I got high

Yesterday, I thought I had a dentist appointment to get a filling and a procedure called scaling. Because scaling involves scraping of the teeth below the gum line it is both painful and terrifying, and me being a pain wuss who hates the dentist means I need good drugs to go through this whole ordeal. Thankfully, last year my dentist prescribed me valium for a previous visit like this, and though 1 valium was not cutting it in reducing my anxiety, 2 seemed to be just right. So, yesterday morning I took 2 valium, drove quickly to the dentist, and felt high as hell by the time I was in their lobby.

Unfortunately, last week the dentist had emailed me to confirm my appointment on the 8th at 10am, and I had presumed I'd gotten it wrong on my calendar where I showed it on the 9th. I made arrangements for my parents to come down to drive me home, told everyone at the office I'd be out, and was prepared to breeze through torture and then come home and sleep it off. Except instead when I got there they said they not only did not have my appointment down for today but could not squeeze me in due to 2 hygienists being out sick. Instead, I had to wait in the lobby while the earth got swimmy until my parents showed up a little before 11. Then when they got me home I had to sleep off the Valium and wait until I could drive before heading into work.

And now today I get to go back and do it all over again. My parents, not surprisingly, declined to drive 3 hours roundtrip for 2 days in a row so I've finagled a ride from a friend. The extra day of anticipation of the pain has not improved my outlook on this whole procedure, let me tell you. Not looking forward to this at all. Even if there are good drugs.

Today's stupid criminal

I'm not really sure how the thought process goes here that allows someone to believe they can present a counterfeit $1 mil. bill at their local convenience store and hope to receive correct change. But that's what happened in Pittsburg, and when the cashier balked the guy flew into a rage before he was arrested. I'm gonna go way out a limb and guess that drugs were involved here, while intelligence was surely not.

Strange bedfellows

Apparently there is a secession movement afoot in this country, being pushed both by Southerners who refuse to accept the notion that the Confederacy lost the Civil War and by northeastern liberals who want their ultra-liberal states (I'm looking at you, Vermont) to be able to opt out of a government that is prosecuting wars they don't like. They are hosting a secessionist conference in Chattanooga that starts today. It is times like these that I wish I did not have a job so that I could go watch these dingbats try to rationalize something so collossally stupid to themselves.

I bet the attendees would look frightfully similar to those who go to Ren Faires and Trekkie conventions. I wonder if they, too, will have secessionist orgies?

Awwww

I've often said, usually to much objection from men I know, that the best way I can think of to be proposed to would be at a Red Sox game or FSU football game via either a Jumbotron proposal or a plane toting a message flying overhead. I know it seems cheesy, but I can't think of a more romantic way to let me know that you understand the things I enjoy most than popping the question at one of my favorite places during one of my favorite activities. At least it would be better than the one proposal I've gotten to date, which was in my kitchen. Not very romantic at all.

So you can imagine that this story, about a man who convinced the Boston Globe to write a special marriage proposal crossword puzzle and publish it in the paper, so that he could do the puzzle with his girlfriend and use it as a springboard to the proposal, warmed the cockles of my otherwise cold heart. It's so sweet to see a man really put in the effort to make a proposal special and something that they'll both happily remember and recount for the rest of their lives.

Sick Day

I wish I could take a sick day from work, but I can't because I have a million things that have to get done ASAP. So, I'm taking a sick day from blogging. I have a sore throat, a stuffy nose, achy sinuses and I feel like my head is wrapped in cotton. Due to my perhaps silly belief that not taking cold medicine and getting plenty of rest makes colds go away faster, I'm just going to suffer through and hope this burns off in 2 or 3 days. In the meantime, I'm in a crappy mood and I'll be blogging lightly, if at all, until it passes. Enjoy the blogroll in my absence.

Astrolopsychobabble says what?

My Facebook horoscope sez:

If each one acts on his own, then the other will feel why bother, which could increase individualism. It is an excellent time to bring to light the psychological defects of each that had been retarding the development of the relationship.

Now, if I had a flipping clue what the hell that all means, I might understand whether I should disgregard it as a total load of crap or just a partial load of crap. Anyone speak astrolopsychobabble who wants to translate?

And my parents wonder why I laugh at them whenever they feel the need to call me to read me my horoscope. The name of the game is write a bunch of vague sounding words so that the person reading it can make up their own meaning to fit their peculiar circumstances.

This all reminds me of the fortune cookie I got on Tuesday that said "you are doing a good job and will be rewarded within the month." Hmm, safe bet there eh sparky? I mean surely everyone who gets this fortune cookie will be good at SOMETHING, even if that something is eating enough to get fat, slacking at work until you get fired, or convincing your wife to leave you. And it will happen within the month! Oh joy.

Sad state of affairs

We have a scary little deli downstairs in my office building which is an offshoot of a generally well-received fancy restaurant. Why is it scary? Because nothing is simple, and you never know what you are getting. Why would they serve a simple turkey sandwich when they could serve turkey with smoked brie and sundried tomatoes on rosemary focaccia...with chipotle mayonnaise? Or a chicken pate wrap with figs and gorgonzola? Or a chicken salad with questionable fruit, vegetable and other ingredients, which has been sitting out in a bowl for 3 hours? Let's just say that once upon a time I made the sad mistake of purchasing a beef quesadilla because it was the last remaining item in their lunch case. And rather than the obvious choice of steak, and cheese, and maybe some salsa or peppers between those tortillas, it was some leftover rosemary and thyme roast beef from the restaurant and various completely non-Mexican vegetables...and Gruyere cheese. THAT was my quesadilla. It was repulsive. And we won't even talk about the fettucine alfredo that I threw away after a mere whiff of the stuff, let alone an actual bite.

The restaurant is also run by a crazy french woman who has Tourette's syndrome. Actually, she may not be crazy but the ways in which she clucks and twitches make me think of the Chicken Lady from Kids in the Hall. And that is definitely crazy. She is perfectly friendly, but generally listening to strange french music and she must announce everything in a singsongy voice and overwhelming French accent. For example, when I order a blueberry muffin in the morning, the entire lobby knows that I am getting "UNE BLOO-BAY-REE MOO-FAN, VERY GOOD, HERE YOU GO" before I can actually pay and get the hell out of there to the elevators. Imagine Dan Aykroyd doing the voice, with the accent of the french chef from "the Little Mermaid" and that gets you pretty close. Plus some twitching, bien sur.

Today, I had a phone call that was supposed to occur by noon. I cannot leave for fear that this phone call will occur momentarily, and yet it still has not happened. Once my stomach reached epic levels of growling, I finally told my secretary that if the call came in she should keep them on hold, and that I would be dashing downstairs to the dangerous deli. Once I arrived, most of the options were taken which was actually both surprising and a relief. I did not have to struggle over the mental calculus of just how disgusting the beef and barley soup was likely to smell, nor did I have to closely examine a turkey sandwich to determine what secret ingredients lay lurking within. The options were the aforementioned mystery chicken salad, or a chicken caesar. I thought to myself, sadly, that at least it's very nearly impossible to screw up a chicken caesar salad. Particularly one with standard commercial dressing. How sad is that? I was relieved to see an option for lunch that consists of grilled chicken, lettuce, those crappy little cube croutons, and some Hellman's dressing. Because at least I know there's no stealth pate in there.

As usual as she assembled my salad, crazy french lady sang every ingredient out to the security desk. "Zee rah-menn (romaine), chee-ken (chicken), zome cru-tohn (croutons), and une packette of dreh-seeng (dressing)." Then she slathered it with a half pound of parmesan without asking me, and I paid an exorbitant sum for this pedestrian salad, and voila! I had lunch. Pray for my stomach.

It's a little early for Halloween, people

The search, according to my SiteMeter, has already begun for "dirty Halloween costumes," "sexy Halloween costumes," and "Jessica Rabbit costumes."

It's EARLY SEPTEMBER, people. And also, ladies, please resist the temptation to use Halloween as an excuse to release your inner skank for the night just because everyone else does. Either let that flag fly a little more often or just dress like a normal Little Bo Peep instead of Horny Little Bo Peep. It's just ridiculous how far this whole industry and the people who buy into it are taking the obsession with sexy halloween costumes. Clearly we have a lot of repressed people who need to discover the joys of roleplay in their everyday sex lives.

Random Stuff I would've twittered but can't

Remember how I hated Twitter back in the day when everyone else adopted it and I found it stupid? Yeah, me neither. Now, I'm so used to plugging in a few random thoughts a day, and reading everyone else's, that when Twitter goes off the rails (as it currently is) I feel...mentally constipated. Actually that is not really the right word since a tweet is more like a fart than anything more substantial. So I guess I feel mentally bloaty. Considering that I feel physically bloaty today too, that's pretty par for the course.

Anyhow, things I would've tweeted today but can't:

* Subway's sweet onion chicken teriyaki ain't half bad. Yes, I recognize I am like 3 years too late on this phenomenon, but I fear change.

* All day I have felt like I am mere seconds from falling asleep. I got 8 hours of sleep last night, but it appears to not matter for some reason. I am terrified I will be caught dozing in my office.

* You know how like everyone pronounces the word angina (cardiac chest pain) so that it rhymes with vagina? Well, cardiologists don't do that. They call it ann-gen-uh, not annj-eye-nuh. So don't sound like a moron by pronouncing it the way I used to. (I also had a friend who insisted on pronouncing Orangina as Orang-eye-na because he thought it was funny. It was not.)

* So after the verbal smackdown from yesterday the ex went back to emailing me like nothing was different, about some mutual friend of ours from college who he found on Facebook. Interesting tactic, buddy, but it's not going to work. DELETE.

* Which makes me sound more insane--ripping apart my closet trying on 42 outfits to pick one to wear on a date and leaving them all on the floor of my bedroom when I finally pick one and leave...or trying on all 42 outfits the night BEFORE and picking one out ahead of time? You guys don't know how good you have it, not having to agonize over your clothing choices like we do. At least I am resisting the urge to go out and buy an entirely new outfit. So far.

* I love ice cream, but I don't want to eat a quart a day, so I buy weird rich flavors that I can only have a tiny bit of before I am sated and can't eat anymore. This is why I love Haagen Dazs' new line of extra fancy ice cream flavors. They are some weirdass combinations like pomegranate and chocolate, or my current pint--Toasted Coconut and Sesame Brittle. Yes, it sounds strange as hell but it is SO good. Two spoonfuls a night (OK, maybe three) and I am all set with the sweet tooth.

* Now that the chemical burn's remnants are finally gone I feel like my skin looks better than ever. I guess that is the upside, I got a free chemical peel. But that week of ickiness really, really sucked.

* Now that temperatures are back in the 90s, my office's temperature is back into the low 60s. Seriously, what is this ridiculousness? I have to put a sweater on over my sweater today, I'm so cold. And I'm not one of those scrawny bitches who is cold when it dips below 90, either. I am FREEZING today. This is stupid.

That's all for now. I hope Twitter is back up soon so that I can spew my mental flatulence elsewhere.

Crime is cultural?

Whoopi Goldberg is full of baloney.

She went on the View this morning and defended Michael Vick by saying that dogfighting "isn't that unusual in the south," sort of "like cockfighting in Puerto Rico" and basically made the case that because Vick grew up in a culture where dogfighting is normal, he shouldn't be getting the railroad treatment by the criminal justice system.

The problem, dear Whoopi, is that crime isn't culturally relative. There are certain religious practices, for example use of peyote by American Indian tribes, that are nevertheless legally outlawed and such statutes have been upheld by the Supreme Court. We don't allow female genital mutilation to escape criminal prosecution in this country solely because it is a standard practice in some cultures. We don't make allowances for domestic violence in some segments of the country because it is more prevalent there. I can think of dozens of examples that we learned about in law school where a religious or cultural practice was not allowed to trump a blanket determination that a particular action is criminal.

At the Falcons preseason game on Saturday I was disgusted to see small children wearing Vick jerseys. Then at Lenox mall yesterday I saw multiple "Free Mike Vick" shirts. And now Goldberg and others are simply shrugging off a repulsive and criminal enterprise as just a cultural thing, we wouldn't understand. But this isn't about respecting cultural differences, because if culture made crime relative and therefore forgiveable as long as you grew up immersed in it, then meth would be legal in the rural south, crack would be legal in inner cities, and marijuana would be legal on hippie communes. You don't get to pick and choose the laws that apply to you, and if you do and you get caught then you face the consequences.

I find the attempts to play this up as a racial or cultural issue, by both sides, to be nearly as disgusting as the initial criminal actions themselves. And shame on Whoopi Goldberg for buying into that. It would be lovely if everyone could avoid the easy bait of racial and cultural stereotyping in this case, but I suppose that is too much to hope for.

Ooh, there's gonna be drama

I'm gonna go out on a wild limb here and guess that NASCAR fans will not react positively to this news. Joe Gibbs Racing, the team that includes recent champion Tony Stewart, will reportedly become the first big name team to switch from an American car manufacturer to Toyota. Yes, the same Toyota that has performed abysmally in its first season, with more failures to qualify than race qualifications so far.

What will all the Smoke fans do? At least we don't have to wonder what all the Kyle Busch fans will do, because there aren't any.

To valium, or not to valium

In pennance for having splurged on an expensive new car over the weekend, I am trying to get my medical ducks in a row this week and make not at all fun appointments for things like the annual trip to the gyno (that's Thurs.) and the dentist (tomorrow). And as you may recall from last year, my involvement with the dentist has heretofore been unpleasant and required copious amounts of nitrous and then finally valium. Just thinking about going tomorrow has me anxious and worrying, and I'm sure that sensation will increase throughout today and tonight.

And yet, I still have 8 valium at home that the dentist prescribed me last year. I could easily take one and be relaxed and hopefully not psychotic for tomorrow's appointment. Unfortunately, however, I do not have someone to drive me to and from the appointment like I did before and I would really hate to wreck my new car because I take a pill that actually works this time (unlike the MRI when I took it, and had someone to drive me, but then it had absolutely zero effect on my overwhelming terror.)

So...do I take it and take the risk? Do I not take it and suffer through the appointment with tears and clenched fists and mental promises to never go back? Do I take the pill and take a cab and cost myself $40?

I can't decide how to get through this. All advice welcome. And yes, I'm a total sissy who hates going to the dentist so much that I cry, and nothing you say will change that. Whatever.

The price of fun

Former insurance premium (6 months) for 2003 VW Passat: $620.23

New insurance premium for 2007 VW Eos convertible: $1032.92.

That includes one accident that was my fault and two that were not, all within the last 9 months. So those may have had a little something to do with the premium change. Plus, State Farm had not changed over my address to Fulton County from the boonies back when I asked them to last year so that had to go through. But still...that's a hefty increase for a girl with no tickets or points on her license and only one minor fender bender!

New car odyssey, pt III

Well, I did it.

Today my dad and I went to two VW dealerships. First we went to the one that had 20-something 2007 Eos's left. We test drove both the 2.0 and the 3.2 and I had a hard time deciding if I felt like the smoother pickup of the 3.2 was really worth an extra $3500 or so. My decision was made a little easier because that dealership only had the 2.0 in the red that I wanted, so we had the salesman work up the best possible price for that model. In fairness to that dealership, they did quote me a very good price for that vehicle that was allegedly $100 over invoice. They also caved and gave me the blue book value for my car despite an attempt to claim that my one accident that showed up on CarFax made my car only a "fair" classification. I nearly pulled the trigger there, but I wanted to go to the other dealership and apply the squeeze play.

So, we drove to another dealership where I knew they had a red 3.2L and a red 2.0. I managed to get them to match the other dealership's deal on the 2.0 and to get them to agree to top that same price by $3500 for the 3.2L which was the basic difference in price. Then we worked on financing and managed to get a decent rate from VW. I thought we had the deal all worked out until it nearly fell apart due to the lack of a factory-installed iPod adapter. They wanted to charge me $700 to install one! Considering that I can get one installed by Best Buy for about $200 tops, I was not having it. We stuck on that point for awhile until I finally extracted an additional couple hundred dollars off the price of the car that I will use to get my own iPod adapter installed.

And with that and a hell of a lot of paperwork, I drove home in my new car. It was wild, since I was totally not expecting to bring one home today. My payments are hefty especially compared to a) not having a car payment for the last year and b) only having a lease payment before that, but I am thrilled. I got everything that I wanted and finally am rewarding myself for my hard work with a fun and awesome car.