One Long Saab Story Except It Was a Volvo

i’m feeling pretty jazz(hand)ed right now. i had a man v. nature type weekend and i think it’s fair to say i at least established my dominance in the genetic kiddie pool…


dude, where’s my karma?

– i tried to go to a blood drive saturday afternoon because i was feeling charitable, worldly and all-around generous. it was being held in a lurvely little part of town that puts the W(ealth), A(ffluence), S(nobbery) and P(reppiness) in WASPitude, with the only thing lacking being parking spaces. after finally shifting my car into a hidden cranny (all the while thinking ‘mmhmm, i should probably remember where i’m leaving my car…ha ho hum hey hiddly hee’), i initiated both a well-intentioned and decisive power walk in the direction of the blood drive.

i soon gave up after a few blocks since the event ended within the impending few minutes and i wasn’t any closer. i became caught up in the allure of the store windows around me. hobo handbags. sandpaper skirts. burlap bras. and newspaper hats (back IN for the season)! then i decided that even all good frivolities must come to an end so i decided to head home. and then i walked up a few blocks and around a few blocks. and guess h’what, buffy? no car.

i had a good chuckle at my absentmindedness and continued walking. and circling. and pacing. trying to come up with a scientific method/formula for car searching. 2 hours later, i phoned a friend with an air of affected desperation. then another. all the while still slightly amused at the circumstances. i felt like i was on the truman show. everything works out in the end! it was still daylight, after all. things could have been worse.

i found so many bizarro-my-cars and not enough actually-my-cars
photo courtesy of Flickr and ponanwi

an hour later, it was dark. my feet felt like bricks. my phone was almost dead. i had gone through the entire grieving cycle over my car, and had arrived at a strange sense of peace (like when people are lost in the arctic for days and days and days, and they finally accept the inevitable). i stopped at a sandwich shop to use the facilities and console myself with melted cheese on baked flour. people were starting to give me ‘are you homeless?’ looks since i had been stalking the same 10-15 blocks for the last few hours, looking evermore frenzied and hopeless. men walking with female companions pulled them closer when i passed, costumed halloween revelers found me relentlessly uninteresting and i decided i would not, under any circumstances, call my parents or ask a cop for help. we make weird rules under dire circumstances.

finally, after i started hallucinating sneaking into a college campus dorm lounge for the night (not to sleep but to weep), i came to a junction, and there it was. i found it, about 2 blocks off from where i had been searching all the live long day-to-dusk, sitting there cool and calm and ready for use. we didn’t say anything to each other. i merely got inside and we went home, like the last 4 hours were just a pipe dream, starring me. roll credits.


dance fever (mostly the shakes)

– on sunday evening, i had a 6 hour dance practice with one break(ing point) for mcdonald’s. i ate a bun with mayo on it (which tasted like the finest baguette with a smattering of freshly churned butter) and some “here comes the sun”chips. delightful.

towards the end of practice, my mind started to go, and in one of the partner steps we have in our piece, i kept getting manhandled by my partner. in his defense, he had no choice. since i kept forgetting moves and stepping on people li-toe-rally, he would just throw me in the direction in which i belonged. it felt like middle school square dancing all over again, but less graceful and even more sweaty.

it’s a good thing that when your mind goes, your ego goes with it. 6 hours of doing anything builds character and destroys friendships. have you ever looked into a comrade’s eyes and realized you’ve memorized them and not by choice but because you’ve had to look at them for the past 5 hours? exactly. it’s not powerful. it’s demoralizing. it’s lifechanging in the way that accidentally misplacing your car for 4 hours is lifechanging. without a modicum of difference. however, i can faithfully say to that group of people with which i spent it, “i know what you did last sunday night” and may that information bond us in a horrific circle of backstabbing and passive-aggressive twirling forever more.

similar to these girls, at least our costumes are synchronized!
photo courtesy of Flickr and StevenM_61

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