Someone at my work complimented my eyes the other day, and because I take compliments just oh so well -- I said "Yep, they were a gift from my Dad! Along with my big nose, lips, ears and temper!"
I know this may be very hard for some of you to believe but yes, I have a temper.
Actually, if you know me even a little you've probably seen a glimpse of it at some point in our first 3 seconds of meeting. I've been called 'feisty' and other cute descriptions -- but really, I have the ability to blow quite easily....and it's indisputably just a bad temper.
As the previous few posts have hinted at -- yes, we bought a new car. Don't everyone fall off your chairs now, I know how hard it is to comprehend the thought of the Little's buying a new car. With it being our our 12th car in 6 years.....we should have a celebratory cake or something;
"Come celebrate our flavour of the month.....With the two most gullible people who still think just because your car is the second biggest purchase you will ever make in your life -- that it will somehow live up to the thousands upon thousands that you spend on it." Not true.....So.Not.True.
Then if this post is about our car -- you're probably wondering why I'm babbling about my temper?
Our new car is a standard.
ie. Manual Transmission.
ie. The bane of my existence.
In my mind - standard is like using a typewriter when technology has brought us the more superior computer. I want to drive and sing at the top of my lungs, be able to think about life, the day ahead or the day I've had, talk, dream, enjoy my trip.....in short; I'm not listening to the engine and the sounds its speaking to me. I couldn't care less if it needs more gas, or needs a different gear. Why was automatic ever invented if the standard was 'so much fun to drive'...'better fuel economy'...'blah, blah, blah'???
My Dad tried to teach me on his old Mazda pick-up years ago. It started out great, I was going to have fun, this time I was going to learn........it ended with me getting out a mile from our house and walking home.
The night that we bought the car this week - I drove it home from about 10 minutes outside of the city. I didn't stall or bunny hop once, I was confident and Garnet was supportive and sweet. Last night, however, ended something like this;
"BUT I WAS GIVING IT $*&*@&* GAS!!!!
"But you let out on the clutch too fast."
"BUT I WAS ROLLING BACKWARDS!!!!!!"
"Jess, It's midnight - on a Sunday - in Sarnia......there is no one behind you."
"GET OUT OF THE %^&%^%@# CAR, I"LL DRIVE IT HOME MYSELF!!"
"At this rate, you won't make it home tonight."
"Oh, shut up."