Mishmash!

Hey Sugar,

It’s me, Stasia. I know I probably shouldn’t be talking to you. I said I was done with you, and I meant it, I really did. It’s just so hard. I see you every day. I see you out with other people and I remember the way you made me feel, the way you taste… I miss you, I’m trying not to, I try to pretend you don’t even exist anymore, but it’s just not the same without you. But despite all that, I’m going to stay strong, I’m not going to cheat. Damn you! I know how bad you are for me. I deserve better than you! 

I’m writing a letter to refined sugar. I don’t expect an answer, but I figure it can’t hurt. I assume if refined sugar could answer me it would go like this:

Girl, you know you want me. Why fight it? Just come back to me, we can be happy together. Give in.

I probably would too. Goodness knows the urge to bake cupcakes is a hard one to resist. I will binge before I go in for surgery though. 1. Because my throat will be raw and I won’t want to eat much afterwards. 2. Although the chances are slim, I could die, so I’m going out with a bang damn it!

Barry got a new to him car today. Finally. I’ve been bugging him to get a new car for a while (because the sooner he gets a new car, the sooner I can get a new car!) He ended up with a Subaru Legacy with a turbo. <-That means things to some people! It even has a stupid hood scoopy thing. He picked it up today and told me to drive it to my private lesson to get a feel for it. I thought, “Meeeeeeeh,” but then I figured it would be easier to park than my pick-up truck and hey, Barry’s other car was a standard, so it was nice to be able to drive it. (I can drive a stick, it’s just starting from a stop and going without it bucking like a bronco is all…)

When I got in and started to pull away from the house I heard the engine, intake, and exhaust noises and thought, “If I’m even 2 miles per hour over the speed limit I’m in for it.” So I was very careful to drive the speed limit the entire way. After my appointment I start on my way home, again, careful to obey every traffic law. About a half mile from my client’s apartment I see the flashing lights behind the car behind me.

What. The. Hell.

I pulled over knowing he was aiming for me in this stupid f-ing car. I’m sure he assumed I was a young punk. Sure enough, after he gets around the other car he pulls in behind me. I’m digging around trying to find the damn registration and insurance cards and they aren’t in the console and I cant find them in the glove box. He walks up and looks in the backseat first, then asks me if I know why he pulled me over as he walks up to look at the front of the car. I had no clue why he pulled me over, and I’m pretty sure if I said, “Because you thought I was some young prick driving this stupid car?” he would have been annoyed with me, even if it was the truth. So he tells me he pulled me over because there’s no taillights and there’s a headlight out. Really?!?! Bear just picked up this piece of crap today!!! <-That bit was in my head.

He takes my license back to his car while I continue my search for the registration. I finally found it and brought up the insurance card on my phone. I sat there waiting for forever. FOR-EV-ER. He came back up and said he just gave me a ticket for the headlight, because now he sees the taillights, (probably because it was dark now.) but there’s some sort of tint on them that will have to be removed. I showed him that I had found the registration and brought up my insurance on my phone to which he said it’s ok, because he was giving me a pass on those anyway since it was a new car. All I have to do is fix the headlight and take it to any police station and have them confirm that I fixed it. I cursed out the stupid dealer for a good few minutes for selling Bear a defective car.

I get home and get out of the car with it still running so that I can see the taillights and the burnt out headlight and show Barry that he’s a jerk for getting a car in this condition when he’s a stinkin’ mechanic! So the taillights looked fine to me, I walked around the front to see the headlight and Barry comes out to see what I’m doing. The headlight looks like it’s lit to me, but what the hell do I know. I hand him the ticket and say, “Here, I broke her in for you.” “What did you do?!” he asked with what is known as a shit-eating grin. “Apparently the headlight is out and your taillights are illegally tinted.” I answered.

He didn’t believe me! How’s that shit?!?! He actually bent down to read the ticket in the beam from the headlight because he thought for sure I was speeding in his new car. The jerk! Not only was I profiled by the police, but my own husband doesn’t believe me! For shame.

Anyway, the headlight was totally working (I’m wondering if it was ever really out, or if that was just an excuse since I wasn’t speeding. It could have been. I hit a hellacious pothole getting back onto 9W, so it might have knocked it on. Don’t tell Bear that I did that though. It was painful.) And Bear said those are the factory taillights and were not tinted, but I guess since they aren’t on the ticket it doesn’t matter. So now I have to go out of my way tomorrow to deal with the damn ticket. I have a busy day tomorrow, I didn’t need this nonsense. Dagnabbit!

Thankfully the Chinese restaurant we ordered from did a really good job on the food and gave us free pop/soda and the Channel Formerly Known as Hub is playing Short Circuit and The Princess Bride in succession. It’s the little things…

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