Broken things...

I'm a little late to work. I start the car, the radio comes on--strange, I was listening to a CD. I try to switch it to the CD and the display says LOCK. The book in the glove box says take it to a GM dealer and for once I do so. I call in late to work (I know, I know, it was a stupid radio, let's not go there...) So I spend an hour before work and $30. I drive to work, put a lot of records in the catalog (including 3 CD-ROMs!)

[The span of 7 hours go by.]

I come out of work, start the car, radio comes on, and I try for the CD and AGAIN with the LOCK on the display! This time, my brain remembers something, and realizes that the first time this happened (not this morning, but shortly after I got Elliot, the stealth blue Cobalt) was when the temperature abruptly changed from cool to warm. Yes, my CD player gets cranky in the heat. Great.

By the time I was 10 minutes into my drive home, the radio worked. I think I'll wait to finish my audio book when the weather turns cold again.

(Did I mention I live in a third floor walk-up?) (Yes, it was warm when I entered the abode after a hard day at work.) (Thankfully the a/c units are still in, I put them both on Fan.)

First movie: Friends with Money. I should always be suspicious when a movie says it opened at a Film Festival (unless it is Little Miss Sunshine.) This was the "Good Girl" Jennifer Aniston, not the "Friends" Aniston. I made it for about 20 minutes until the point where her blind date is trying to help her clean out a client's refrigerator. (Her character, Olivia, was a pot-smoking maid.) It was too horrible to continue.

Oh, did I mention the book I spent my last dollar* on yesterday in the book nook died on page 56 over lunch today when I realized the woman power was going a little too...um, earthy for me. Besides, I could already figure out who she was marrying, the plot was soooo see through. No, because then you'll want to read it. It's not worth it. And if I do mention it, the author will google herself and she'll see I didn't like it...I am too nice sometimes to be a good blogger of the Badger, Babelbabe, Poppy genre. Sorry, gals, to disappoint.

Let's see...so as soon as I killed Friends with Money (ejected it from the DVD player, no real violence, it belongs to the library), I put in Bring it On, a movie I'd been wanting to see for a while. I shouldn't have waited so long. The library copy must have been in a contest for the most scratches. And the thing was, it was a good movie. I wanted to watch it, so I tried my darnedest. But it would play a scene (great, great!) and then it would freeze frame (no, no, no!). I think I might have given it 45 minutes. I'll send a note with it when I return it, and maybe our librarian that deals with DVDs can resurface it with the fancy machine that's in his office. It runs on electricity and distilled water.

I, these days, run on Emergen-C, Corasedin, Sudafed, episodes of SATC, and lots and lots of peppermint tea. Oh, and sleep. I think I hear my bed calling me. I'm hoping this cold goes away SOON.

In case I don't post until Tuesday, Happy Canadian Thanksgiving and Columbus Day (or whatever the PC name is now.)

And for the record, I did some dishes tonight. Not all of them, but some. It's progress.

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*not my last dollar, but the last dollar I had allotted for frivolous purchases such as Book Nook coffee and paperback novels.

Why I love Mike Lange and yes, we have a hard row to hoe, Penguins fans

Okay, so we lost. But I have to hand it to Mike Lange (listened to him on the way home from a fête of grilled veggies and chicken and the game on a leather couch, not my own.) As I'm turning from Highland to Jackson, he says, "You know, they knew they had to win a game in Detroit, why not Game 5? They've come back from stats this bad before." And the respect they give to the other team, whoever we're playing--the "three stars" and "the best play" aren't always the Pens, but when they're not, they give credit where credit is due--that good hockey was played tonight.

I have a defense mechanism. When in groups of people and the mood is bad at a sports gig, I nod off. So I was sort of aware that we were losing, but more aware of the trash talking towards the TV. Remember the year Janet Jackson had a wardrobe malfunction at the Super Bowl? I slept right through it. The world series in 97? (I have no interest in baseball and only was watching it because my Bible Study had been canceled for the evening and I wanted company.)

So unlike the fabulous game played by the Pens on Wednesday, which I slept through because I'd had a day of cramps and drama, tonight I dozed through a game played hard by the Wings, a great hockey club. I watched the TV version, with whomever NBC had doing color-commentary and it was tepid at best. I missed Mike, but you can't really ask your hosts, gee, why don't we turn down the volume and listen to the radio?

What I love about Lange is that while he is optimistic about the Pens and truly loves them, he loves hockey the game more than the particular team he announces for.

While I was searching on the Post-Gazette site for something, found these "Pens Cheer Cards." My printer is currently on the fritz, but these are fun. Especially love the ones for the Rangers, with the "I heart #87," (I do!) parodying the "I heart NY" logo that NYC is so well known for.

Tomorrow I'm going to go see SATC the movie, with or without my girls (whose numbers have dwindled due to boyfriends, husbands, and children. *sigh*) Well, the Fab Four will be there.

In other news, I seriously need a haircut. My bangs are long enough that I should cut them but I haven't done it yet. I looked seriously cute tonight with my hair air dried, my official Stanley Cup Finals t-shirt (grey heather with the helmets of the two teams) and I even wore contacts. I was told the party was going to be at the S. house and indeed, there were many grilled veggies and chicken to be had and enjoyed. It was nice to just sit and enjoy food. But the folks that told me about the fête didn't show. Um? Their loss.

In other news, tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of Date #1 with Max. Not that I'm that into remembering that day, but June 1 is just an easy day to remember. Um. Don't think we're going to be friends. He's just not talking to me. At all. (If you're new here, we dated for six months but still live in the same apartment house, he on the first floor, I in the third floor walk-up.) I'm not torn up completely, just a tad sad, but as J said at work today when I confided in her, "His loss." Love J, who totally was astounded when I told her that this week I sent food back. She totally understood how HUGE that was for me to have done.

What else? In the end, you can't convince anyone of anything they're not ready to hear. So me buying a friend a copy of It's a break-up because it's broken won't do any good until they're ready to hear it. It pains me that they can't see that, but since I held the torch on a crush over B for three un-fulfilling years, I'm not one to talk, just one to recognize the tortured behavior in someone else and the desire to FIX YOU. Which never really works. Sigh.

Well, the clock will strike midnight in five scant minutes and this girl is home, so need for a carriage or a pumpkin is not necessary, but I do hear the couch calling my name. So I bid you farewell, and a pleasant night's sleep. I'll sleep, to dream of the Pens winning the series. Because if Mike Lange can believe it, I can too.