Nicole
What the hell is today? Sunday?

*cue exasperated and agitated growl*

This whole Penn State thing is fucking up my world and essentially the worlds of everyone around me. It's great in the end, but so far it's pretty much caused us nothing but grief. Shall I tell the tale of the buying of the car, or the coming death of my Morning Glories? The disappearance of money from my savings account, or the constant stress in my stomach that makes me want to throw up and random intervals?

I am not a happy camper.

Let's start from the beginning. I last left off the day after Monday, when all was fairly good. Please note I still have not heard back from the publishing place, but I will get to that.

Basically, we brought mom in to test drive the three vehicles we'd decided to choose from. A black Saturn Ion, silver Saturn L300, and a red Chevrolet Tracker. All for good prices considering their milage (which was not much), year, and all that. Soon it was down to the Tracker and the L. The Tracker was cheaper, had a little more milage, but still in good shape. I liked the Tracker; I could see myself driving it, though it needed new breaks. Mom liked the L, but she's sort of biased towards cars and whatnot, whereas me and dad not so much. However, it had gone from dad getting a new car and me buying the Isuzu and all that entailed, to me taking over entirely and getting a car myself - just had to wait for a job. Well, that wasn't happening, but I was still going to get the car because I know if anything I'll just skip over to Dick's Sporting Goods and hop on there. They're always in need of some decent workers. But to the point. We're ready to get the Tracker. I'm excited because I'm getting something I like, it's not through the roof, and we can finally be done with all this car shopping nonsense. After all, dad's leaving Sunday (that was to be today, but I'll get to that in a bit too) and we won't have any more time to do this crap.

The salesguy is a nice guy and since it's Saturn they're supposed to be all straightforward yadda yadda. Of course, the guy's still gonna be trying to sell whether or not he can jack around with the price, but we know this. Dad used to sell cars anyway so it's nothing new to him. However, before he gets the chance to get us all comfy and ready to shell out money and all that, some lady breezes in, starts snapping up the paperwork, says something about St. Louis and says for us to come into her office. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but let me tell you this - the sales guy looked a little "..Whoa, wait, wtf?" and her demeanor just was a bad omen. She wasn't being bitchy, but right away I just knew it.

"This is not going to end well."

You know, the whole, "I have a bad feeling about this" thing, yeah, big time. Basically, she already settled in her mind what we could afford before us telling her what our plans were, she was obviusly working for herself, was rather distant, winced about stuff (you know, in that "Ooh, I don't know" kind of way which made no sense and was not cool), and in gerenal, was getting dad in a bad mood really fast - it was obvious and if that woman had any sense whatsoever she would have known. Apparently dad had caught what she'd said initially, which was something about her having to go to St. Louis and pretty much wanted to do this and get things overwith to be on her way. Not a good choice when we're buying an $11,000 vehicle and you're being a snot. The warranty on the Tracker was up and so she offered a brand spanking new one for four years - for $2,500. Not so great. How about two years? $2,000. Wtf?

Needless to say, she was working all this for her benefit, and we basically walked out. I could see the sales guy out of the corner of my eye spot us, looked a little freaked out and start toward us, but we weren't stopping and left. I guess he decided it wouldn't be a good idea to chase after us. I knew he would call the next day after whatever'd happened cooled down. He did and dad promptly informed him of the nonsense we'd dealt with. He tried to smooth it over, but to no avail. But it was Thursday when he called. And guess what we were doing? We were in another dealership for a good portion of the day.

Okay, now I want you to understand something. For those of you who've never seen me mad, count yourself lucky because I turn into an utter bitch. I've freaked a few people out. I woke up irritated. When I'd gotten home after the Tracker incident (since I knew we weren't going to get it) I was very unhappy and was getting so worked up that I ran on the treadmill when we got home at 5pm right before dinner and I seriously overdid it because then I was hacking my guts out later, but I didn't give a shit. So I woke up irritated and I knew we had to go car hunting again and I really didn't want to. At all. Getting your first car is supposed to be fun, perhaps a little tiring and maybe annoying, but when it's your first car, it's supposed to be cool, right? Sure. Whatever you say kids. So once more, it's 9am, and we're out and about, and I'm trying not to talk a lot because if I do it's just going to come out in ugly sarcasm in a flat tone and just overall pretty nasty. Dad had already tried to make things up to me the day before by buying chocolate (which I didn't even eat until 4 hours later, if you can believe that), but that just made me more irritated because I wasn't mad at him, it wasn't his fault she was fucking stupid. And when I'm angry I just like to be left alone to stew that way I'm not a bitch to people and then start feeling worse.

But to get back to the story. We get into a random Kia Sportage, 2001 with close to 81,000 miles on it, ready to test drive it - and it doesn't even start. I decided then that aside from God's commandment of "Thou shalt not have a boyfriend" (tried that twice and look what happened - breaking commandments is bad), now tacked on is "Thou shalt not have a car." This not-starting thing did not make me like the car, naturally. After a jump it worked, but to be honest, I was pretty much in the mood of "Fuck today, and fuck this car." I was really, really bad. I don't think I've ever been more upset in my life. After test driving it the salesman proposed that since I had to go to Parkland to drop off Ashley I go ahead and take it there. I must have said "No" or some varation thereof about ten times to him and dad. Take it there and let it sit for an hour? Was I comfortable with that? No. Uh, no. No. $@#%& NO!

I ended up with the keys shoved in my hand and driving it to Champaign anyway. Dad kept asking me if I hated the car. I kept saying, No, it wasn't that. In truth, a part of me did hate the car because it wasn't anything near what I'd ever pick out for myself. The cup holder is in the shittiest place ever, and if what I drink doesn't condensate all over my controls, it's going to block them. The breaks were shuddering. It's a little floaty in the wind. It had double the miles of the Tracker. I don't personally know how good Kia is. Even though it's about the same size as the Tracker, I feel like a soccer mom driving around a van. It's tan. It took me about 10 minutes to get the seat where I wanted it and get comfortable. I kept getting rugburn on my right elbow when I got in and rubbed it on the seat fabric. There's no CD player and no cruise control and I don't even own any tapes to put in the tape player. The locking control has four buttons on it and only two of them actually do something (who the hell makes this shit?). And yesterday it took my sister and I about 5-10 minutes to figure out what was wrong with the back since it wouldn't close and latch unless pushed hard from just the right spot. So yes, a part of me has major issues with this. For the entire day yesterday I was on the verge of tears. I nearly cracked twice in the middle of the dealership just sitting there. I kept hearing from dad, "You do like it right? Is this okay? I don't want you to be forced into buying something you don't like," and though, yes, in essence, it's okay for just $7,000, I wanted to yell

WILL YOU SHUT UP?! QUIT TELLING ME YOU DON'T WANT ME TO FEEL LIKE I'M FORCED INTO BUYING THIS WHEN I AM!

And I was, really. Our options were gone. I wasn't going to have the resources and skill to go mosey on out and buy something for myself. I don't know enough to keep from getting screwed. I was just not excited about this car - at all. I couldn't get into it. I just knew that it and me were going to end up resenting each other the way I hate our vacuum. It never does anything it's supposed to when I use it and I'd love nothing more than to take it out like in Office Space and beat it to shit with a bat.

Now I don't want you guys to get the impression that I'm not grateful for a new car (or in my case a car) because it's not a bad little vehicle, they spiffied it up real nice for me (no gas, but oh well, fine), they fixed up the breaks (just as long as they don't fucking die while I'm on the highway and I crash) and the battery is cool, just needed some charging (still wasn't jazzed even after hearing that anyway) and the entire car is paid for and in my name. This means I owe dad about $2,500 as I pulled $4,000 from my near $5,000; I subsequently had to downgrade my savings account to just a regular one that didn't pay out as much so I didn't have to pay penalty fees. He did offer to shave off maybe $1,000 from that as a graduation present since I never got anything, but I declined. Yeah, I know, shut up, you guys think I'm nuts. But that's how ugly I was yesterday - I declined paying less money for the simple fact that I refused to have this part of this car payment as a graduation present. Graduation presents are supposed to kick ass, correct? This does not kick ass and I stand by my decision and will not go back on it. They can think of something else, though it is likely that in our present situation that I will never get anything (wouldn't be a surprise anyway, coming from the girl who got hand me ups from her little sister). C'est la vi.

It will take me a while to get into this. Presently it's like that pair of brown shoes I bought freshman year - I regretted buying them because they were cheaper by $10, but still cute, though not as cute as the ones I really wanted, and then they ended up killing my the backs of my heels but I was like, "Nope, I bought these and dammit, they're going to fucking work or else." They're fine now. It took a while of careful lacing and walking, but after a year or so they finally got to a point where they seldom bothered me and finally now they don't. So this car and I are going to get along or else. I'm just pissy because the whole experience was bad, and I'm still really pissy because I never got the chance to either A.) cry until I ran out of energy to do so or B.) beat the fucking shit out of something. So I'm still wound up.

Other news that didn't help any of this, dad's car started wacking out and smelling like gasoline when starting up and got progressively worse. I called the place that interviewed me on Friday but the person I wanted to talk to was in a meeting so I left my name. Then I had to leave yet again due to the car situation and when I returned, apprently the phone had rung two seperate occasions but no message was left. If it was them, more reason for me to be irritated. This weekend my sister and Nick came up. That's not a bad thing, but since Nick is Mr. Fix-It, suddenly dad wants to fix everything and use Nick for his knowledge and help. So he goes from making me fix the lightbulb in the kitchen that I can't even remotely reach even with a ladder to the guy who can fix everything. A part of the fence is weirded out so they fixed that. I have Morning Glories I've been growing there the past few years and they were pulled down so they could do that. Then dad walks in and tells me I just need to put them back on the fence. Do you know how improbable that is? There was nothing to hang them on! I had to pull half of them out and I'll bet money that another good portion of them is going to die and hence our fence will go from looking fine to looking like shit and I'll have to pull more of my lovely glories out. It's just the little things are drving me utterly insane. Tor needs to hurry up and reply, tell me I'm published, and I need to get famous and rich so I can shower my family with plenty of money and move my ass to Colorado to cool down.

I've been overdosing on chocolate and sugar hardcore too. The last time we went out (because more people have been seeing the house so we have to leave again with the dog and OMFG it can be a nightmare because half these people aren't even giving us one day's notice like they're goddamn supposed to) was to a smorgasbord and I was like "Fuck it" and just went nuts on dessert.

So I need a week to either cry, kill something, or immerse myself in anything but stress that's been making my stomach cramp up and me all nauseous for the past several days. I just want my job - I want my little cubicle where I can work on a manuscript. I would be so happy just to do that, 8-4 for five days a week, proofreading and being quiet. That's all I want right now. Is that really so much to ask?


Super Fuck Everything
2 Responses
  1. Megan Says:

    If you want tapes I have some Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, and 98 Degrees I can give you.
    *dies from the evil blasting from your eyes*

    *recovers*
    Sorry about everything...I know the hype about the first car is crazy, but trust me, it's not everything it's cracked up to be. A month after I got mine I needed a new transmission. Bleh. The way I figure it, once Derek makes lots of money, I can get the car of my dreams *drools over Pontiac G6 Sedan Fully Loaded*
    As far as your job goes, let me know when you hear from the company! Email me though, cause that's pretty much the only thing I have time to check nowadays (though in your case I can make an exception ;-)
    My job is going well; I really am in love with my 9 kids. We have so much fun in my room; it's hard to believe I'm actually a paid teacher and not just an intern or something. Well, I guess it'll be a little more realistic once I get my first paycheck (!) next Friday. Hello, money.
    I hope I'll get to see you on Sept. 9th! I'm driving down after work on Friday the 8th- I'll be in around 7ish. if I don't die in construction and rush hour traffic first. We can all sleep in Derek's room or something if we all come up then! (He doesn't know this, but oh well!)
    Love you! :-D


  2. Stacey Says:

    This sounds so mean, but dad's moved out and you have a couple months to relax now before the major move. You can still come down here and get a job, you know. Heh. Um...except you'd have to sleep on the couch. But I make cookies a lot.