I have always had hand me down cars. Not that anything was bad with that. I quite enjoyed it. Actually each car I have holds a special place in my heart. ^.^ I know...I am weird. However, they do. They each had something special about them. And I have so many memories of them.
My first car was a Tempo. It was tan and it was from my Great Uncle. It was my very first car. It was so old school. It had the seat belts that would slide across you at the top and then you had to buckle the bottom. The rear view mirror had come off and the air conditioning went out. It was older so things happen. I took my driver's test in that car. My driver's test...was not so great. Don't get me wrong. My driving is fine. The day of, my dad put the rear view mirror back on.
"Now, sit down so that you can adjust it."-Dad
"ok" *Adjusts mirror*
"Ok, now don't touch it again when you get in the car because it might fall off again."-Dad
"Ok."
Oh so ghetto.... :)
I got to the driver's facility thingy and I waited in line. There were several people doing the driver's exam at that time. Of course, I get the crabby one. We get into the car and I start it.
"Ok, I am in. Let's get the air conditioning going in here or something." She rudely demands.
"I am sorry, there is no air conditioning."
"Yeah there is, right there."
"It does not work."
"Are you kidding? *irritated sigh* Fine let's just get this over with."
Luckily little words were said and I passed my driver's exam. YAY! MAGPIE CAN DRIVE!
Unfortunately for the car, the speedometer broke a couple of months later. Then the engine went. :( We got rid of my precious first car. My only living object left is a leather key chain that was on the key ring to the car.
My second car was a hand me down from my grandpa. It was a Buick Roadmaster. Yes, it was a huge station wagon, maroon with wood paneling. My grandpa could not drive anymore. I had the privelege of driving his car. My grandpa was really into cars. He had two model A's. He really loved this station wagon too. It was his pet. When he learned that I would be getting his car, he pulled me over to the window and said, "Magpie, that car is a great car. Even when everything else in this world let's you down, that car will not. That car is you best friend." Well, the Roadmaster became oadmaster on one side and Roadmaste on the other. The speedometer gave out. The gas gauge went, the rubber siding came off, the pastic door part flew off, and then the transitor went out. Finally, after the front emblem was pulled off, it died. It drove like a tank, looked like a boat but was my companion for so long.
deceit
I even had my first ticket in that car. The speedometer broke and I couldn't tell my speed. I was in the dark, no one was around me so I couldn't gauge my speed. A cop pulled me over. :( It was not a happy day for me.
*sirens*
"Do you know how fast you were going?"
"No officer. I have no speedometer. It is broken."
*insert tears here*
"Uh...you should really get that fixed."
"Yes, my dad and I are going to work on it."
"Yeah....here is your ticket."
So after a great deal of embarrassment, I managed to pay the ticket, take the class and now I have a clean record. By the way, crying does not help.
That car was really an awesome car. Honestly, how many people in the world own a maroon Roadmaster with wood paneling? No one.
Yep that car was awesome. My grandpa was really into cars. He had two model A's. He really loved this Station wagon too. When he learned that I would be getting his car, he pulled me over to the window and said, "Magpie, that car is a great car. Even when everything else in this world let's you down, that car will not. That car is you best friend."
Well, the rubber siding came off, and the door part came off, and the speedometer broke, the gas gauge broke, and then transmission gave out...oh that is a funny story.
Well, almost no one. There was this time when I went to school and parked in the same parking lot I had for the past few years. I go to class, come back to leave for home and try to open the car door. Now I never locked my car doors. That was jut how I rolled. In fact, I would love to see someone try to steal anything out of that car or steal the car itself. Honestly, there was nothing in there. Anyway, the car was locked. What the heck? So I pull out my keys and go to unlock the car door. It was not opening. So here I am with my arms full of books trying to open my car and the car was not opening. As I am struggling with the task at hand I look up and see another station wagon like mine: maroon, wood paneling, everything. I look at the car before me. It too was maroon, had wood paneling....only it was clean inside. And it had the full Roadmaster on the side rather than oadmaster like mine. Oh and it had the front emblem on it too...mind didn't. Slowly I withdrew my key from the door and backed up away from the vehicle. I think briskly walked over to my station wagon and jumped in. How embarrassing...
That was really the only time I "lost" a car until recently. I now own a Scion TC in sizzling crimson...:cool: Very awesome...very sleek....very.....Magpie. Well the other day was a late night at work. It was not the best of days and I was ready and dying to get home. So I usually park on the blue level of the parking garage. I walk there dead tired and look around. My TC is nowhere to be seen. "Oh, I parked on yellow today." I thought to myself and I went back to the stairwell and walked up to yellow level. I came out and walked around the whole yellow level. Still no TC. So I go back to the stairwell and go up to red level which is the roof. I stopped. No, I know I didn't park on the roof. I would have know if I parked on the roof. So down to yellow level I go. I was so confused. How do I lose a vehicle that cost me an arm and a leg and is bigger than any other object I own?
Once on yellow level I walk out and begin to walk the whole garage. I meet one of the residents who is just getting off her shift.
"Hi." I said to the resident.
"Hey, how are you doing?"
"Ok, I am looking for my car....again."
"Oh....maybe you should call security."
"Oh no no no....I don't want to do that. It is here somewhere. I will find it."
"Um...ok...." the resident laughed. She is cool.
So off to her car she goes and embarrassed Magpie roams the empty cold dark parking garage in search for her car. Well not dark. It is will lit. Anyway, I finally found my car. It was on the up ramp going to the yellow level.
I am relieved that I found my car. I get in turn it on and start to drive toward the exit. Yet the exit is not there. So around I go. I thought I went up. Instead I went in one big circle. Again, no exist.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!" I yelled in my car as I stood at a stop in the garage. I regained my composure and pressed the gas pedal once again. I made carefully sure that I was truly going the right way this time. Down the ramp I went and made my way out of the garage....it was the wrong exist but at least I got out...alive.
Magpie
No White Wedding for a Magpie
"What did you dress like before you were married?"
"...I'm.....not married."
"Oh....I thought you were married and had kids."
"Nope. Not married. No kids."
"Oh because sometimes you have food on your shirt and I thought it was from the kids."
So if there is anything like oil and water it is Magpie and white. Funny considering the profession I chose: nursing. I seem to always mess up my white clothing.
For the past two times that I wore white pants to work, it rained. Yes, full out downpour. Both days I attempted to bring my car in as well to have a look over and check up. You know that cars need doctor appointments too. So the first time I was too late. If I had gone through with my car's check up, I would have been late for work. So I drove off and went to grab something to eat before work. I went to Potbelly's and then drove by a Starbucks.
Now, if you read the previous thread concerning coffee you will know my addiction to the black drink which one can consider a very sad one at that. Anyways, I digress, I was walking normally, not noticing the fact that there was a nice puddle in front of me. I had one goal in mind. Grab my fix for the day and head to work. My mind was focused on the task at hand. I tend to walk fast no matter where I am. Thus my steps are usually broad and my feet tend to plop at times onto the ground. One step, two step, three step...SPLASH! My pants became soaked from my foot to my knee. I stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Rain was pouring down on my head because I am just that anti-umbrella. So basically as I stood there I was becoming more and more wet. Aw, Man! What was I going to do. There was no time for me to go back home to change my pants so I was going to have to stick it out. No worries, I still get my fix!!! I ordered my coffee and went to work. I did have a huge splash mark on my pants though. It did dry....eventually.
The next week, I again attempted to bring my car to get it looked at. This time I got out early enough in order to have it looked at. On the way to work, I had a few minutes so I stopped at DSW. Again, parking lot. Again, rain. Again, puddles. THIS time....I was more careful at what I was doing. Unfortunately, the bottom of my pants and the fronts were spotted with rain marks. Nice. At least my car is healthy and I have a new pair of nice Mudd heel Mary Janes. Nice. :)
Yesterday....not a good day for the Mags. I decided that I was going to make a pretty day out of it. I put my white scrub top on and my pink pants to match. I walked out the door. I got into my car. Everything was great until I went to get my fix. This time I went to Dunkin' Donuts. Coconut coffee with cream and sugar. MMMMmmmmmm oh oh oh sooo sooo soooo good!!! I drank it the whole way. I enjoyed the creamy sensation as it slide across my tongue and down my throat. I took the cup from my relaxed face to notice that there were drips on the edge of the cup. I didn't think of it. I took another gulp and again, drips. What was this about. Then my mad critical thinking skills came into play. I just dumped coffee on myself. Twice. I look down and on my white top are three large and totally out there spots of brown. So Magpie took an unannounced unplanned trip to the Walgreens store to pick up Tide Marker Spot cleaner and also Shout Wipes. Knowing myself for the past 24 years made me think that two products might just be better than one. Luckily the Tide Marker to Go helped a great deal and my scrub top was white. Well, it was almost white. It has some pen marks on it from the pen being my pocket. I guess I should bleach it. It might help a bit. Oh and it seems to be a little less white since I've been wearing it. Maybe bleach is in the order next time I wash it.
So I am seeing a pattern. Can you? White and I just don't get along. It is nothing against white. I love the fact that it looks clean and pure. However, after I wear it, I ruin the pureness and whiteness and beauty. So I decided that white and I will never be. It is something that I have come to terms with. I began to mourn the fact that I and white will never be the team that I wish to be.
This is will make my wedding day quite difficult. During my short period of mourning, I realized that my wedding day will be quite difficult.
I get all dressed up in my white. The dress probably looks great.....or ridiculous. I haven't really put that much thought into it. Anyway, it is white. So I have this white dress and I am wearing it. I decide before the ceremony that I am hungry. Being my wedding day and it has to be the best day ever, I want a hot dog with mustard and relish. My mom will speak words of wisdom to me which of course, me being stubborn I do not listen. So to compromise, my mom attempts to speak wise words to me again: "Wear at least a napkin or an apron." I comply resorting to only a thin flimsy napkin. Of course my wedding gown is to the floor. I think. Well, anyway, the mustard spill onto the hem of the skirt. Which of course is decorated because it has to be. I think. In mad rush everyone attempts to use everything under the sun to clean up the bright yellow spot on the bottom of the dress.
"HURRY GET THE EMERGENCY PACK OF SHOUT WIPES!!"
"NO NO NO!!! THOSE WILL JUST SMEAR THE MUSTARD!!!"
"USE THE TIDE MARKER!!!! IT WORKED ON THE ARMY MAN'S SHIRT IN THE COMMERCIAL!!!!!"
"HYDROGEN PEROXIDE!!!!"
*silence*
*crickets*
"We don't have hydrogen peroxide....."
"oh...."
Ok, so the mustard gets a good Polish lick to the napkin and futile wipe attempt.
The organ music starts and everyone rushes to the back of the church. For some reason my shoe insists on sticking to the bottom back of the dress. I have no idea why. Soon the whole train is wrapped around my right leg and I go down. Veil flying, flowers crushed, I land smack down on my face. Dad, laughing, helps me up. We both notice that my shoe had a wad of gum on it that is now firmly attached to the train. Unknowingly to the tragedy that occurred, everyone lines up and one by one they make their way down the center aisle to the front.
I stand up next to Dad, crushed flowers in tow, and begin my own journey. My white dress is now slightly dirty from the fall, the flowers are bent up, a yellow mustard stain on the hem and now the middle carpet thing that was rolled out is stuck to the gum. It is pulled behind me as I travel to the front of the church. Everyone looks in horror at the trailing carpet. I don't even recognize it. I am just all smiles because I am so excited. So I make it to the front and the ceremony goes as planned. Well, except the face of my fiance. I didn't really expect to see that sort of look on his face. I can understand a look of fear, a look of joy, but honestly, the look of repulsion is too much to take.
However, the pre-wedding events are nothing compared to the reception. The reception does not go well. Food is a huge hit with Magpie. Of course, it must be a Polish/Irish wedding so we will have Guinness and spaghetti. And Perogis. Can't forget that. So I am sitting and eating. Again, mom, who is the intelligent one of the family, strongly suggests that I wear an apron. I decline saying that I don't want to embarrass myself in front of the family. I begin to swirl the creamy goodness on my fork only to realize that in the process, the sauce has splashed all over the bodice of my dress. No worries, maybe someone will think that I spray painted the front of my dress with red splatters. Makes perfect sense to me.
"Magpie," my new spouse says to me, "What did you do to the front of your dress?"
My brother just sits there and shakes his head.
"I think it is spaghetti..." I respond
So white is just not my friend. Although I do wear some white tops. I actually have three. I feel sorry for those tops. As far as my wedding maybe I should reconsider the whole white wedding dress. Not that I considered it in the first place. But seeing my current relationship with white clothing, maybe I should get something like, red, or blue, or black or purple. Purple is good. Purple it is. Purple wedding dress for Magpie.
Magpie.
"...I'm.....not married."
"Oh....I thought you were married and had kids."
"Nope. Not married. No kids."
"Oh because sometimes you have food on your shirt and I thought it was from the kids."
So if there is anything like oil and water it is Magpie and white. Funny considering the profession I chose: nursing. I seem to always mess up my white clothing.
For the past two times that I wore white pants to work, it rained. Yes, full out downpour. Both days I attempted to bring my car in as well to have a look over and check up. You know that cars need doctor appointments too. So the first time I was too late. If I had gone through with my car's check up, I would have been late for work. So I drove off and went to grab something to eat before work. I went to Potbelly's and then drove by a Starbucks.
Now, if you read the previous thread concerning coffee you will know my addiction to the black drink which one can consider a very sad one at that. Anyways, I digress, I was walking normally, not noticing the fact that there was a nice puddle in front of me. I had one goal in mind. Grab my fix for the day and head to work. My mind was focused on the task at hand. I tend to walk fast no matter where I am. Thus my steps are usually broad and my feet tend to plop at times onto the ground. One step, two step, three step...SPLASH! My pants became soaked from my foot to my knee. I stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Rain was pouring down on my head because I am just that anti-umbrella. So basically as I stood there I was becoming more and more wet. Aw, Man! What was I going to do. There was no time for me to go back home to change my pants so I was going to have to stick it out. No worries, I still get my fix!!! I ordered my coffee and went to work. I did have a huge splash mark on my pants though. It did dry....eventually.
The next week, I again attempted to bring my car to get it looked at. This time I got out early enough in order to have it looked at. On the way to work, I had a few minutes so I stopped at DSW. Again, parking lot. Again, rain. Again, puddles. THIS time....I was more careful at what I was doing. Unfortunately, the bottom of my pants and the fronts were spotted with rain marks. Nice. At least my car is healthy and I have a new pair of nice Mudd heel Mary Janes. Nice. :)
Yesterday....not a good day for the Mags. I decided that I was going to make a pretty day out of it. I put my white scrub top on and my pink pants to match. I walked out the door. I got into my car. Everything was great until I went to get my fix. This time I went to Dunkin' Donuts. Coconut coffee with cream and sugar. MMMMmmmmmm oh oh oh sooo sooo soooo good!!! I drank it the whole way. I enjoyed the creamy sensation as it slide across my tongue and down my throat. I took the cup from my relaxed face to notice that there were drips on the edge of the cup. I didn't think of it. I took another gulp and again, drips. What was this about. Then my mad critical thinking skills came into play. I just dumped coffee on myself. Twice. I look down and on my white top are three large and totally out there spots of brown. So Magpie took an unannounced unplanned trip to the Walgreens store to pick up Tide Marker Spot cleaner and also Shout Wipes. Knowing myself for the past 24 years made me think that two products might just be better than one. Luckily the Tide Marker to Go helped a great deal and my scrub top was white. Well, it was almost white. It has some pen marks on it from the pen being my pocket. I guess I should bleach it. It might help a bit. Oh and it seems to be a little less white since I've been wearing it. Maybe bleach is in the order next time I wash it.
So I am seeing a pattern. Can you? White and I just don't get along. It is nothing against white. I love the fact that it looks clean and pure. However, after I wear it, I ruin the pureness and whiteness and beauty. So I decided that white and I will never be. It is something that I have come to terms with. I began to mourn the fact that I and white will never be the team that I wish to be.
This is will make my wedding day quite difficult. During my short period of mourning, I realized that my wedding day will be quite difficult.
I get all dressed up in my white. The dress probably looks great.....or ridiculous. I haven't really put that much thought into it. Anyway, it is white. So I have this white dress and I am wearing it. I decide before the ceremony that I am hungry. Being my wedding day and it has to be the best day ever, I want a hot dog with mustard and relish. My mom will speak words of wisdom to me which of course, me being stubborn I do not listen. So to compromise, my mom attempts to speak wise words to me again: "Wear at least a napkin or an apron." I comply resorting to only a thin flimsy napkin. Of course my wedding gown is to the floor. I think. Well, anyway, the mustard spill onto the hem of the skirt. Which of course is decorated because it has to be. I think. In mad rush everyone attempts to use everything under the sun to clean up the bright yellow spot on the bottom of the dress.
"HURRY GET THE EMERGENCY PACK OF SHOUT WIPES!!"
"NO NO NO!!! THOSE WILL JUST SMEAR THE MUSTARD!!!"
"USE THE TIDE MARKER!!!! IT WORKED ON THE ARMY MAN'S SHIRT IN THE COMMERCIAL!!!!!"
"HYDROGEN PEROXIDE!!!!"
*silence*
*crickets*
"We don't have hydrogen peroxide....."
"oh...."
Ok, so the mustard gets a good Polish lick to the napkin and futile wipe attempt.
The organ music starts and everyone rushes to the back of the church. For some reason my shoe insists on sticking to the bottom back of the dress. I have no idea why. Soon the whole train is wrapped around my right leg and I go down. Veil flying, flowers crushed, I land smack down on my face. Dad, laughing, helps me up. We both notice that my shoe had a wad of gum on it that is now firmly attached to the train. Unknowingly to the tragedy that occurred, everyone lines up and one by one they make their way down the center aisle to the front.
I stand up next to Dad, crushed flowers in tow, and begin my own journey. My white dress is now slightly dirty from the fall, the flowers are bent up, a yellow mustard stain on the hem and now the middle carpet thing that was rolled out is stuck to the gum. It is pulled behind me as I travel to the front of the church. Everyone looks in horror at the trailing carpet. I don't even recognize it. I am just all smiles because I am so excited. So I make it to the front and the ceremony goes as planned. Well, except the face of my fiance. I didn't really expect to see that sort of look on his face. I can understand a look of fear, a look of joy, but honestly, the look of repulsion is too much to take.
However, the pre-wedding events are nothing compared to the reception. The reception does not go well. Food is a huge hit with Magpie. Of course, it must be a Polish/Irish wedding so we will have Guinness and spaghetti. And Perogis. Can't forget that. So I am sitting and eating. Again, mom, who is the intelligent one of the family, strongly suggests that I wear an apron. I decline saying that I don't want to embarrass myself in front of the family. I begin to swirl the creamy goodness on my fork only to realize that in the process, the sauce has splashed all over the bodice of my dress. No worries, maybe someone will think that I spray painted the front of my dress with red splatters. Makes perfect sense to me.
"Magpie," my new spouse says to me, "What did you do to the front of your dress?"
My brother just sits there and shakes his head.
"I think it is spaghetti..." I respond
So white is just not my friend. Although I do wear some white tops. I actually have three. I feel sorry for those tops. As far as my wedding maybe I should reconsider the whole white wedding dress. Not that I considered it in the first place. But seeing my current relationship with white clothing, maybe I should get something like, red, or blue, or black or purple. Purple is good. Purple it is. Purple wedding dress for Magpie.
Magpie.
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