The Island of Suburbia

Do you guys remember when I sold my car and wrote that blog about how I sold the car because of the epiphany I had one day that I had my car only to get to my job and had my job only to pay for my car? Well, in the last couple weeks, since Tony broke up with me, I’ve realized what a pain in the ass it can be to not have a car at your disposal at all. I feel like I live on Suburbia Island right now. I’m pretty well stranded out here. I mean, there isn’t even a grocery store within walking distance of my house. It was obviously people with cars who designed neighborhoods in this manner.

Anyway, what this means is I’ve been looking into buying used cars and motorcycles. I’ve been considering getting my motorcycle’s license and trying to figure out how it would work financially. And what I just figured out is that even if I bought a motorcycle (less expensive than a car) I’d have to get a “real” job to make the payments, so once again I’d be in the frustrating paradox of working to keep my vehicle and having my vehicle almost solely for the purpose of going to work. And then there’s the added stress of figuring out what the heck I’d do with that vehicle during my time in Istanbul. So, um, I guess what I’ve decided is that I’d rather get straight A’s again next semester than to buy a vehicle. I’ll just have to get well versed in the ways of buses and light rail, which really isn’t that bad, except for the sad fact that the bus to my house only operates until 8 p.m.

 

Meet Red

Here She Is:

I’ve never had a desire to name a car before. Never in my life. But when I saw this one I got the distinct feeling that it was a she and I suddenly wanted to name her. Being unimaginative as I am, I named her Red. I thought of calling her Rouge or Rougie to be a bit more French, but they just didn’t seem to fit for me. Alas, Red it is.

I cannot even begin to tell you the relief I had when I saw this car. I knew I was getting a used car so I was expecting the worst. You know, some beat up old junker. But God has been kind to me, yet again, though I know not why, and gave me this lovely little Peugeot instead. It was a company car for my boss’s husband so it was only allowed to be used for running company errands. And now it’s mine. So, it’s pretty much brand new. A bit dusty though. I’ve got to clean her.

Anyway, I went with the grandfather of my French family to pick it up today, which meant that I had to drive in Paris by myself AND find my house. Just so you know, I pass my own house all the time when I’m walking. So getting lost when I’m going 30 kilometres par heure, well it’s pretty easy. I also had to drive on the freeway for the first time. It wasn’t as scary as I expected it to be though. Maybe it wasn’t a real freeway. It’s what they Parisians call the Peripherique (with a bunch of accents on all those “e”s) because it goes around the whole of Paris, allowing you to avoid all of the city traffic. That is a freeway isn’t it?

Now you all have even one more incentive to come visit me because it means we can take a weekend trip somewhere! Yay!

Okay, here it is. The obligatory new car photo:

Oh, and here’s a bonus:

I just uploaded my pictures from last night and I found this gem:

I’m embarrassed that I look like this. And why is my hand so huge???

 

Friends, Driving in Paris and Les Nympheas

I have friends!

I’ve often thought it was weird for people to meet each other online. I don’t know, something about it just felt creepy and weird to me. But when you live in a city where you never know if someone is going to speak your language or not, it’s kind of nice to have a go-to place to find people. SO I decided to join a couple of online groups, mostly because I was looking for a rock climbing partner and one of the sites popped up when I searched for rock climbing partners online. I joined www.meetup.com and www.meetin.org.

On each site there are event planners who schedule group meetups and you choose what types of events you want to join. This site is actually how I found out about the Ganesh festival I went to. Anywho, the meetup events so far are crap, but the meetin group is fantastic. I rsvp’d for an event this Friday and the guy planning it e-mailed me to welcome me to the group. He also mentioned in the e-mail that he saw on my profile that I rock climb and he just happened to be going that evening with a bunch of friends! At first I declined the invitation because I didn’t want to spend money and because I was iffy about going.

But on reflection I realized if I was going to be serious about meeting people here then I have to say yes more often than I say no. So I called him back and got the directions for the climbing gym. That’s where I met Beccy (yay a girl who likes to climb, boo for having the same name as me). Anyway, long story short (although it is quite long at this point, sorry about that), I went climbing with them Monday. I went jogging with them yesterday. I have the soiree on Friday and we’re watching the rugby together on Friday!

I hope I’m not the friend that they just can’t seem to get rid of though….I think it may be too early for them to feel that way. At least I hope so.

Moving on….

Driving in Paris!

Today I was seriously afraid for my life. I had to learn how to drive in Paris. No, not only did I have to learn to drive in Paris, but I had to drive through the Charles de Gaule Etoile. If you don’t know, the Etoile is the round-about surrounding the Arc de Triomphe. It’s also one of the most dangerous intersections anywhere because there are 12 (I think) roads that branch off this round-about. This means cars are weaving in and out and trying to get off.

Um, and when was the last time I even drove in a round-about before today. Oh, that’s right: NEVER. Seriously, I was holding my breath through the whole experience. Overall I drove for about two hours today. I had to learn the ways to both of the boys schools so I can take them to and from school each day.

Unfortunately, as you know, but my French family has yet to learn, I have NO sense of direction. I have absolutely no idea where we went or how to get back there. Luckily these two boys have photographic memories so they’ll be able to show me how to get there each day. The problem will be finding my way back home….but that’s for another day. I’m sure you all can’t wait for the blog titled “Lost in Paris!”

One last thing.

I wanted to write about this before but I forgot. On the first Sunday of the month in Paris all of the monuments and museums are free to the public. Being that I’m always super poor I plan to take full advantage of the first Sunday of every month. This is why after the Ganesh festival I went to Musee de L’Orangerie. This is also why there was such a long line to wait. Everyone in Paris goes to the museum when it’s free. The worst though is the Louvre. NEVER go there on the first Sunday of the month. You’ll want to slit your own throat just to end the misery of it all.

But about Musee de L’Orangerie. It is my absolute most favorite museum in all of Paris. That’s saying a lot in a city with more than 100 museums. However, it was closed for the past five years for renovations and only reopened last year so I haven’t been to it since 1999. L’Orangerie is famous for housing Les Nympheas, known to you as Monet’s Lilypads.

When I was younger I never understood why these paintings were so revered. But that was because I was looking at them on a postcard. In the museum they have quite a different feel because they are enormous. The museum was built according to Monet’s instructions, with the paintings covering the walls of two round rooms. The paintings are about 6 ft tall and encircle the entire room. And they look absolutely amazing. In the center of the room there is a group of comfy benches and I could sit there for hours just admiring these paintings.

So, there you have it folks. That’s my adventure for the day. Sorry it was such a long post.

P.S. I stole this blog style from Kaytie (I hope you don’t mind). I think it works better for more than one subject.

 

One thing I miss about my car, and Friday the 13th

As I’ve been walking around town in my iPod cocoon, I’ve realized there’s something I’ve been missing about my car: singing at the top of my lungs to my favorite songs. It just doesn’t work the same when I’m walking down the street. Instead of being able to drive off quickly for my Pink immitation, I get weird looks from strangers.

The best time for a car-singing session is on a bad day. I used to get in my car and turn my iPod up full volume while I rocked out to angry music like Eminem. I find that lately I’m even having to bite my tongue for Carrie Underwood songs. I’m telling you I’ve been feeling supressed. I think it’s time for a weekend drive to the coast with the girls with some majorly bad, top-of-the-lungs singing.

Oh, and it’s Friday the 13th in case you all didn’t know. Are you superstitious? When I was a kid I was scared to death of Friday the 13th, but I’ve never had anything bad happen to me. And actually, today’s been a really good day. So I think I’m changing the meaning of Friday the 13th to being a good luck day. Woo hoo for me!

P.S. Am I the only person who’s never really heard of Kurt Vonnegut before? What kind of writer am I?

 

Thoughts on interstate travel and the most important person who never lived

Interstate Travel:

As most of you know, I just returned from Oregon yesterday. Tony and I visited for five days and quite enjoyed all of the quirks that are Portland. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures to share with you though because Tony accidently left our camera at the airport security checkpoint in Sacramento. Luckily it was recovered, but not until we returned home.

While we were there we had a discussion about how the U.S. international borders are not the only borders that matter. Every time we cross a state border it’s like entering into a whole new country. Granted, the federal laws remain intact and we have the same president. But governmental organization and the English language are about as much as most states have in common. It’s intriguing to learn the laws of other states and wonder how they came about their decision to outlaw shopping carts or plastic bags.

For those of you who don’t know, which I doubt there are many, Oregon has some very interesting and often controversial laws. One of the most controversial is their support of euthanasia. They also have a very successful needle trade-in program.

But it’s the quirky laws that I love best about Oregon. For instance, if you cross the state line into Oregon, you are no longer aloud to pump your own gas. Instead, an attendant meets you at your car, asks you how much gas you want, pumps it, and takes your cash. Oregon is also well known for it’s lack of sales tax. And while I was there I learned that Portland has a law against sitting on the sidewalk, ostensibly to keep homeless people from gathering on city streets. They also have a law that if someone has overpowering body odor on a public bus or tram, you can request that they be removed – and they must oblige! I think that’s by far my favorite of the Oregon laws.

Anyway, I was just thinking how weird it is that different states and cities have such different laws even though we’re all the same country. I think it’s cool that our founding fathers thought far enough ahead to realize that it would be impossible for one president to control an entire nation the size of the U.S.

The Most Important Person Who Never Lived:

I just picked up three more books from the public library (yay for free reading), one of which is “The 101 most influential people who never lived.” Some of the people written about in the book include Prince Charming, Hercules and Uncle Sam. One of the main reasons I decided to read this book was because I wanted to know who the authors considered to be the most influential person who never lived. I’ll tell you right now, it isn’t anyone I’d thought of.

I’m not going to spoil it for you, but I was wondering who you’d consider the most influential person who never lived. Uncle Tom? Mickey Mouse? And why would you pick them as opposed to any other fictional character?

 

Fine, take my money

I have real actual news.

It’s about my drinking problem, er I mean sleeping problem.

But you have to read about it here.

Also, after all my resolution to fix my car myself I’m just going to give in.

There were no pictures to help me with this whole taking the door apart thing.

They do it on purpose you know.

The car companies design these cars so only a mechanic can fix them.

What happened to the days of simplicity?

What happened to people knowing how to jimmy rig anything?

I miss those days.

And I don’t think I ever really lived in those days.

How sad is that?

 

Car saga continues

I’ve heard the mantra a million times by now.

NEVER BUY A FORD!

But did I listen?

Nope.

I hate my car with a passion.

Today my second motorized window broke.

But this one broke in the down position.

Woohoo! Commuting to work in winter with an open window is going to be so much FUN!

And it appears to be a common problem.

The Auto Beef website (linked above) even has the mileage at which this commonly happens: 82,000.

My car is at 89,000.

Coincidence?

I think not.

I’m not paying some mechanic to fix it though.

I’m going to take that door apart myself and fix this.

I’m done paying mechanics all of my hard earned money.

I’m DONE! Do you hear me?!?!

Ugh.

You don’t have to tell me.

I alread know:

Never buy a Ford.

Thanks for the advice when it’s too late.

 

A financial “wow!”

In looking for ways to save money I’ve been scrutinizing my budget. Instead of needing to cut out lattes and splurges on new clothes I realized the thing that needs to be deleted from my monthly spending is my car. You know, the POS that doesn’t have a working radio and breaks down every couple months? Yeah, that’s the one.

I pay more for my stupid car than I do for rent! Now, that’s a revelation. I could save $600 a month if I got rid of my car. No repairs, no gas, no insurance needed. I would be able to work a part-time retail job downtown and still afford all of my bills if I didn’t have a car. I’ve already gotten used to living without constant shopping sprees and extras like coffee and bagels every day. Sofia’s been living without her car since we crashed it last year and she says it was a godsend to be rid of it.

Now, if I could only find a way to crash my car without hurting myself in the process…

 

Things don’t change

I just got my car back. The repairs ended up only costing $639 because I cried. Not to say that this is the best method, but I was frustrated and exhausted so when they could only approve me for $500 credit toward the repairs the tears just came. The girl at the counter felt sorry for me and gave me a discount, then when the repair guy came in and talked to me I just got more upset. I guess he felt bad for me too because he gave me another 10 percent off.

It was a relief because it meant I had the $139 I needed to pay for it, except now I can’t pay my student loan this month, but that’s just Uncle Sam. He’s pretty forgiving, right?

Anyway, the real reason I was writing today is because while I was waiting for my car to get fixed I was unpacking some boxes and I found a letter I wrote to myself when I joined sorority (we had to do it). It was dated Oct. 4, 2004, but it could have been written by me today. I guess not so much has really changed. Here’s an excerpt:

“As always work is frustrating because I feel like no matter how much I work I still have no money and I feel like work gets in the way of me doing well in school and me doing things that I really want to do. Why oh why can’t I be independently wealthy or win the lottery?!? Maybe someday somebody really rich will feel sorry for me and give me a ton of money…”

Oh and my favorite is the last line of the letter to myself:

“I hope Bush gets voted out of office.”

Too bad that didn’t happen.

Kay, well I’m feeling better now that my car is at least running. Hope you are all doing well.

 

What’s that saying?

I’ve come to the conclusion that the only reason I was so depressed/frustrated last week was because I don’t have ESP and had no idea this week was going to be even worse.

It’s 1:11 a.m. and I just got home from shooting for napkin nights. Only I didn’t shoot any photos because I forgot my I.D. at home and was on my way back to get it when I blew out the clutch on my POS car.

Oh, and did I mention my car overheated this morning and I just got it back from the shop at 5 this afternoon? I didn’t? Well, this day has come full circle. My car has now been towed to the Ford dealership where I will have to promise my right arm in exchange for the repairs needed. Why did I opt to commute? If I lived in Lodi I could live without this *&%^ing car.

On the bright side, at least I got one photo tonight:

They say bad things come in threes right? I hope the third one doesn’t cost me any more money.

Update: It should only cost about $1,000 to get fixed, I have $90 in the bank. Awesome