Car Problems (In a new Light)

Have you ever noticed the only time you ever talk good about your vehicle is right after you buy it? That enthusiasm seems to dwindle away shortly afterwards ... why is that?

Well, I am here to break the cycle, if only for just three minutes. I'm here to talk about my car problems, only in a new light. Here goes: the story of a car; a friend who likes to get me from A to B ... barely.

First, I love how my 1,000 dollar repair on the catylitic converter didn't fix the problem. It's a great conversational piece with both friends and strangers alike. "Yes, it does in fact sound like Gandalf and the Fire Demon are battling beneath my car. How nice of you to notice." Or, "You know what? I believe you're right; I think I will go call the dealership again and let them strip me of my innocence and increase the cynicism in my life. What was that number again?"

Secondly, I love how the side panel is coming off, so when I wear long-sleeved shirts, I get orange sticky insulation all over my clothing. It's especially fun when I'm in a college class -- I get the BEST conversations that way! "Holy crap! You're right! It's all over me ... how funny. It was also funny last class when Bob pointed it out, and in Psychology when I overheard Susy pointing it out to her friends. The people at this college are so perceptive!"

Thirdly, I love how the average estimated battery life is five years, but the battery life on my car is a week. I enjoy those extra mornings with my wife as we discuss the day's To-Do list over the ambiance of '95 Ford engine as I jumpstart the battery on her car.

Forthly, I love the roominess of a '2000 Volkswagen Beetle when we go on trips. I get that special "Me and You" time with my cat, him continually yelling in his carrier, me petting his face and whispering sweet-nothings in vain as I simultaneously look out for policemen because I don't have a seatbelt on. Those are the best times.

Lastly, I absolutely LOVE that the trade-in value of our car is already lower than what we've invested in it. There's nothing like knowing you've strategically placed your money in the most lucrative investments. I'm thinking about going into financial advising -- anyone interested?

So ends the story of my relationship with my car -- beyond the dealership lot. Oh how I enjoy the memories!

Randomness #1

Notice: After writing this post, I didn't realize how disjointed it was actually going to be. This is a one-way ticket into my thought processes. Don't expect any fireworks.

I find myself writing because I want to write, not that I have anything to write about.

Do you ever have that problem? I often run to the computer momentarily inspired, but when I reach my desk, I stare at the evil blinking cursor for 30 minutes with only the words "I hate you cursor" inscribed on my computer screen.

Do you ever search for random things on the internet? For example, because I started two consecutive paragraphs with questions, I decided to bold each beginning question to make it seem like I premeditated the idea. However, I ran out of ideas for questions (sad, I know). I just searched for "question words word list." I'm trying to keep those people at Google on their toes.

Have you ever used the word "premeditated" in a sentence? I feel like such a nerd.

Why Randomness #1 and not just Randomness? I suspect this isn't the only time my brain will fail me when my hands want to write. [Ten minutes later and I still can't find a (appropriate) joke to go with how opposite my brain and my hands are.]

Do you ever have to type around your cat? I do. (Yes, I am doing it now.)

Are your posts always linear, or do you jump around in thoughts? Not one of my posts have been linear. I'll start a paragraph, get a good idea completely unrelated to the one I'm working on, and the write it first before I finish the previous thought. Wait, what? I'm lost ...

Do you laugh at yourself? I'm laughing my ass off right now at this post. Boy, I wasn't kidding when I said "randomness."

Do you ever count your losses? I think I'm going to count my losses on this post idea and stop while I'm ahead (if that is even still true). The funny thing is, this is how I actually think. I just never let anyone in my head.

I'd like a psychoanalysis on this post -- anyone?

"Love Ya" vs. "Love You"

This is for all the women out there who say that men are not "sentimental." We just like to show it in more subtle ways. (My "more subtle" is relative to women's expression of sentimentality -- AKA "Why don't you sit down and let me tell you how much everything means to me.")

This post is inspired by a recent email I received from my father-in-law, in which he signed it "Love ya, Dad." Notice two things here: the appearance of the words "Love ya," and the word "Dad."

Let's Quentin Tarantino this story and start from the beginning, now that I've given you the end.

His emails didn't always sound like this (especially the interlude shortly after I told him I was taking his daughter away, changing her name, and relocating her three hours away).

There was a progression involved, and I followed it every step of the way. His beginning emails were always signed "Bob the Builder" (no, that is not my father-in-law's name [how cool would that be!?]. That's just my best intrepretation of being "safe" on the internet -- haha). However, even though it started out formally enough, it has evolved into what it is today: "Love ya, Dad" -- a double whammy!

As you may have noticed, I like to consider myself a shade-tree pyschologist. *Ahem* For all those who didn't grow up in a redneck family, allow me to explain. A shade-tree mechanic is a wanna-be mechanic who does all his/her work under the shade of a tree. Hence, a shade-tree pyschologist is one like myself, diagnosing the behavior of cats and humans with vigorous enthusiasm.

I would now like to share one of my extremely professional observations. For men, there is a huge difference between love ya and love you (for women, the word "love" seems to become appropriate shortly after learning someone's name).

A scale exists with men, and it goes something like this:

Sup? I can't remember your name.
See Ya Later I couldn't borrow flour from you, but you seem cool.
See Ya Later, Man Thanks for the flour.
Love Ya It just took me three hours of contemplation to say that, you better appreciate it.
Love You Usually comes after the non-rejection of the "Love Ya" phase. Congratulations, you are now part of .0001% of the population in their lives.

The scale may be a little rough around the edges, but I suspect it is pretty similar for each man out there. (The scale is copyrighted from here on out; I don't want its professionalism to be jeopardized by any third-person parties.)

So ladies, the next time your man comments on the flowers in the yard or the smell of a particular candle, know it for what it is: the deep expression of a love unparalleled by anything else in their lives. (Yes, it's that serious ... lol).

That reminds me ... I need to go comment on the pancakes I had this morning (it just might give me some pancakes for tomorrow!)

See Ya Later,
Schafner