Payback

Can you imagine for a second how defeated I feel after blowing the third tire in four months?

Last time, I bemoaned the fact that apparently I looked like someone who is perfectly capable of changing her own tire. Only one person stopped, and it was a lady to offer me her cell phone. (Thank you again, lady!) This time, I think I was more irritated.

When this happened in February, my phone was out of area, and I think that was my main problem. I texted my brother (two and a half hours away) and asked him to call my dad (at work) just to see if it would be possible to get some help. I didn't get an answer (see above, re: phone not working) and decided I'd have to take it upon myself to change the tire. And I did, and I felt pretty damn good about it for the rest of the week. My dad was proud of me, it was nice.

Earlier today, I had barely pulled off to the side of the road and gotten the spare out of the trunk (again, my phone is not working) before an older couple in a truck pulled over and the man (I'm going to call him Walter) took the what-do-you-call-it out of my hands and knelt down to take over. Of course I appreciate their help. What I don't appreciate is their assumption that I needed their help. Now, I'm plenty lazy. I'm sure I would have let anybody who offered take over while I stood back and watched. It was Bessie's (I'm going to call her Bessie) constant comments on how, "You really need a big strong man for this kind of job!" and "It's good to have a man around to do this kind of hard work!" really chafed me. Just because I have a vagina and a set of bosoms does not mean that I am incompetent.

Of COURSE I thanked the couple many times for stopping. And I probably smiled in her direction as she made belittling comments, because they were helping me, taking time out of their day to help and do the right thing. And Bessie kept going on and on about how someone (Oh, excuse me. Some MAN.) had helped her one time and she'd tried to pay him (at this point, I believe I was hoping they weren't expecting me to offer them money) but he told her that someone helped his wife once and he was just paying it back. (If it sounds like a country song, well, it is.)

She laughed as they were headed to their truck, telling me not to forget to pay it back someday. I wonder what's funny about that?

Happy Monday!

Tomorrow is a long day.

I think I'm going to call it a night a little early.

Last night at the bar, the DJ played a song that one of the middle-aged ladies with poofy bangs and mom jeans really liked. I know because after the DJ stopped playing, she found it on the jukebox and played it seven times in a row.

What song was it? This song. I shit you not.

Have a good week!

(eta: The song is "Low" by some hip hop dude. In case you have a sluggish connection or they take down the video in the future.)

Work Research. Yeah, I Have the Best Job.

All of that,

When really, this:



Was probably my favorite song for many years. Up until the New Kids on the Block, that is. And, truth be told, I didn't think they were the greatest, either.

I was a follower. Sue me.

Best Friend

My best friend in grade school was a girl named Marybeth. I have to admit, one of my least attractive qualities growing up was a complete inability to voice my own opinion on things. So when she said that this:



...was her favorite song, I promptly declared it MY favorite song, as well. But when she declared this:



her favorite song, a few months later, I told my first fib. Because although I claimed that to be my favorite song as well, I secretly vowed that the first song would be my most favorite song forever.

Honestly, the hair still does it for me. How can you deny E.C.?

I Never Thought

that I would start a post by saying, "So, Bruce and I were listening to "13 going on 30" and end it with, "and we both started singing along to this song off the soundtrack," but there you have it. This is what getting old does to you, people. Take notes. Or don't, because things get ugly, and you might want to forget about them until you get there. Old, that is.

Anyway, I was in search of that song, and found this video. Please, if you need a bright spot in your day, watch.



How cute was that? And go figure, it's a Liz Phair song. We love our Liz over here.

In other news, today when I was admonished for not doing something correctly, I offered to do it correctly and was told, "No, you go home, but tomorrow, you'll do it right." I'm very seriously considering leaving the place where I'm told things like that fairly regularly.