A Canadian, A French-Canadian and an Italian* guy walk into a room...

Just in case this gets fed to the readers again...It's old. It's kind of just...bitching. Read if you like, but it is not new. I was sick of getting 40 hits a day for the link to that damn Luigi picture.

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And proceed to bore me TO DEATH with the threat of converting to a new system on our manufacturing floor.

The only thing that kept me going was the way they made me giggle every time they said "aboot." And trying to figure out if they were gay or not.

**Putting my smile on** Only TWO WHOLE days left.

So, you saw what caused my first embarassing moment of 2007. Not only did I KILL the POS, I did it right in front of the hotel where Sunshine was swimming for a birthday party. Mmhmm, IN FRONT of the pool window...where else??!

It all started when we were taking Ninja Boy to basketball. He'd told us before we left that he wanted to stay home because some little shit-face told him he sucked. Oops, did I say that? Anyway, we told him "We're not quitters!" "You can't let one mean person keep you from having fun!" "What do you care what other people think?" "I think you're GREAT."

That subsided the whining until we got there. And he refused to play. We did the "yelling without moving our lips" thing and he started to cry - not REAL cry, like "Ow, I'm hurt." It was the "high-pitched 'I don't want to' cry. (OMG, I just thought of Stuart!)

So, we're tromping out of the elementary school, trying not to blurt out something mean ("Quitter!"). We all get in the car, The Man starts it, I say "Hang on, Sunshine, you got your belt on?" "I do now," she says. "Ahumpuhjdfdh jhifdijdf DIE," says my car. I'm now doing the "high-pitched half cry" thing repeatedly saying "What is it, what's wrong??" The Man calmy (he wasn't calm, I'm just saying that, he was being MEAN) telling me "I don't know! But your engine light is blinking." I started hyperventilating. We drove it home. It was only maybe two miles. Thank God I had not gone out as planned the night before. I would have been stuck thirty minutes from home...late at night...and The Man would have had to wake the kids to pick me up in....well.


Mhmm, saved myself just a tad of embarassment THERE! Just a tad, though.

When we got home, The Man was furious and extremely unhelpful. "I don't know what to tell you, call a shop." I un.der.stand. that he's not a mechanic and can't tell me what’s wrong with it by guessing, but he could fucking humor me for crying out loud, which I was.

We now had three cars, A nice, newer Blazer (Bad Tranny), a POS Geo Metro (it's REALLY a POS) and my dear sweet Pontiac...(Engine).

My wonderful day care provider also doubles as a great mechanic referral (her hubby). He came over and looked at it and did what he could in the time he had...but didn't fix it. He left us with the idea that it wouldn't cost very much to fix. We had $500 in cash from our savings, justincase it was really bad and we needed a down-payment. I needed some retail therapy.

We headed over Target, where I proceeded to clear the shelves of their clearance toys (If you're in the area...I'm having a Cheerful Givers Party Feb. 24..email me...wink, wink). I also bought myself glass pieces. Haha, no, not the kind to smoke drugs...silly Kristina... The kind that match the rest of the shit I decorate my ugly ass cabinets with!

I got in the house and dropped the damn bag on the floor.

The next morning, I had a severe allergy **note to people who actually get severe allergies, I know I'm a little dramatic** problem with my eyes. I was searching for my purse because flushing my eyes with water (seriously!) wasn't taking away the itch and I JUST NEEDED MY EYEDROPS.

My purse was not here.




I searched EVERYWHERE.





After much deliberation, we came to a conclusion and I made the call.




He was right.






I left it on the counter at Quizno's.


I'm SUCH a dumbass. Not so dumb, though, because I actually remembered to TAKE THE $500 out of my purse before I left the house. And my bff.


After I drove up to Quizno's to reclaim my purse...in the GEO...DCP's hubby came back over with the correct piece to my car and had it running in less than an hour.


So, as bad as the whole weekend was, it could have been a whole lot worse.


*So, he probably wasn't Italian...in fact, he said "aboot" too, so he was PROBABLY Canadian - but his name was ...Luigi (The *other* Mario Bro). I was enamored...he even wore a green shirt. That also entertained me, to think of him jumping down plumbing tubes. Or turning into BABY LUIGI.