heyo
There must be a law equal in universality to gravity that says that anytime a kitchen faucet is turned on, any spoon within a 1 foot radius will reposition itself underneath the water stream concave side up, to distribute the spray all over my pants.
thanksgiving
We spent the Thanksgiving holiday visiting our families in Connecticut and upstate New York. Since we’ve historically only gotten to fly up to the East Coast once a year, I planned on taking the opportunity to talk to her father about our marriage.
On Thanksgiving Day we went to my Uncle Luke and Aunt Michelle’s house out in Weston, which is right near Bethel, Connecticut where Eilene grew up. Eilene’s dad Warren still lives in Bethel, so he joined up with us for Thanksgiving dinner.
I’m nontraditional enough that I’ve always felt the wording of the act in which the father is asked for his daughter is a bit wonky and sexist. On the other hand, I’m traditional enough that I relish in the warmth of following through with any motion laden with the romance of countless generations of couples before us. I subsequently spent more time fretting over how I was going to word the question to satisfy both idealogical urges than I did worrying about the actual asking.
After Thanksgiving dinner and dessert were both finished, I knew I was going to have to seize the opportunity before we got back on the road and dropped Eilene’s dad at home. I leaned over and asked Warren if he’d join me outside on the porch.
I’ve spent time with him before, he’s a good natured guy with a good sense of humor and a “filter” that deserted him years ago. He says whatever’s on his mind, almost always tongue in cheek. We talked for a short while, the general gist of what I said was that Eilene and I have developed a really good relationship, have gotten very serious and are planning on getting married, and that we would love to have his blessing.
After saying things like “Oh, okay” and “Right, right, sure” while I was talking, he said, “Well you know, that’s great, it sounds like she picked the right guy, a good guy. Not too smart, but hey whattayagonnado.” And then he busted out laughing.
And that was it, that was her dad’s blessing. I couldn’t have dreamt up something better or more suited to us.
ain’t no lie, b-b-bye bye bye
I’ve started to realize that I’m going to need to part out the 240SX and sell it. A lot of things are changing and this is one of them.
It’s a big decision, partly because of the work I’ve put into it and partly because selling anything custom having to do with cars returns pennies on the dollar vs. what was put in financially.
But basically I made a promise to myself awhile back to not drive it on public streets. It’s too fucking fast and subsequently too irresponsible/dangerous. That leaves the track, which I am in no financial position to carry out anytime soon. Estimated tire consumption is a full set ($500) every 3 track days maximum, plus incidentals, fees and upkeep of the car.
I’ve really not wanted the reality of this to be true, but it seems that no matter how I fight it I don’t particularly have a choice. I’ve entered into the time period where I’m looking at changing things financially, paying off debt and no longer living paycheck to paycheck. Unless I suddenly strike it rich, I cannot do that and have this car and use it.
I guess I need a new(/less expensive) hobby.
dreamsicle
I was bored a few weeks ago, so I decided to go through with painting the file cabinet I found at a thrift store. I used the same autobody-like process as the creamsicle compact fridge, except that I was too lazy to wet sand and cut loads of corners. I didn’t even remove the drawer pull hardware to leave that silver.
Shown with the paint still wet, super smurf blue.
