Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Some ponderings, on this marvellous day off:
  • After passing a hazard perception test on the weekend (which was quite miraculous, considering that in one of the test videos I murdered a few pedestrians), I have been considered eligible to upgrade to my open licence. Which is what I just did. I will no longer receive the looks of suspicion and derision that followed my p-plates wherever they went. I can now get away with changing lanes without indicating, swerving into other lanes every time there is a bend in the road [INSERT RANT ABOUT OTHER DRIVERS HERE] etc.

    This has me thinking that managing to spend a year driving solo, without crashing into anything or anyone, might mean that I have had a sufficient amount of practice to upgrade my car to something better than the crumply green shitbox I am driving at the moment. And with this thought comes a sudden pang of sadness, because it turns out I have grown quite fond of the shitbox, despite these facts:

    • following a head-on collision involving the previous owner, the panel beater has not aligned the engine correctly when repairing, resulting in headlights which point to the floor and the kind of creaks and groans that make me suspect that one day the engine will just fall out onto the road while I'm driving.
    • brakes which squeal like a banshee.
    • a missing badge on the front, so my car looks like it is a no-name brand.
    • a radiator cap which I only managed to take off last weekend, for the first time in a year. Due to the engine alignment problem. Miraculously, it didn't need a top-up.
    • a God-awful smell which permeates the house after every time it is driven. Like normal car smell, mixed with a burning heap of tyres.

    So, well, maybe I might keep it for a little bit longer yet.

  • At a super mental Myer shopping event last night, I bought the best underpants ever. They are blue, with red bits, and a red bow, and they are a bit frilly, and awesome. Flinging them around the house last night in the joyous rapture which can only follow the purchase of new underpants, I tried to express my excitement to Beardie.

    [squealing] Look! Look, look!!!
    Why did you buy kids underpants?
    [head explodes] They're NOT kids underpants!!1!@
    They look like kids underpants.
    Um. Ok.

    I mean, I would be excited for him if HE bought the best underpants ever. Boys just don't get it.

  • Piano lesson number two is tonight. I appear to suck as much as I did last week, but I am hoping that this progress that everyone speaks of will start to kick in soon. If I spent more time practising today, and less time searching for random videos on YouTube, it could possibly help. Possibly.


Adam said...

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! We, the attractive reading public, didn't come here for gross, misconceived generalisations. We came here for words, words about undies. I actually get super excited about undies, there was this one time when I found a pair so awesome, that I rushed, nay, bolted back to the shop the next day to buy another 6 pairs. I currently have enough pairs of awesomeness to go 6 weeks, that's 42 and totally the meaning of life. Cara the chick doesn't get the excitement though, I don't understand why, it's our biggest sticking point. There was one time that I bought some cool undieness, and then went I went back to get some more, they had none left, that was a sad day, it's not easy to find good ones.

I'm having issues at the moment though, I think my work pants are causing undie wedgies. I'm sure I didn't used to get any wedgies when I was a bum IS THERE ANY GOOD REASON TO WORK?

miss v said...

Ah! The Art of the Underpants. I, too, agree with Mister Adam above that one must not generalise... Maybe should you demonstrate their awesomeness by showing them on you? Though, by my calculations, appreciation of such delicacies may be met by gross tearing of garment... Proceed at your own risk.

ps: as for the 'kids underpants' remark, it reminds me of one my ex-collegue once burned indelibly in my memory: 'It makes you look like a little girl, only not as sexy'. He is English.

Adam said...

Haha, that's so wrong! Kudos to the English Wrongness.

RAT, obvs, this is your blog and you can generalise as much as you like. I quite like a good generalisation, which is good because all people generalise all the time. It's just that this time we disagree. I don't want to be forever known as The Generalisation Police because I'd be so totally bad at it. Actually, I'd be good at it, but I'd be bad at being The Anti-Generalisation Police.

RAT said...

Adam, woah! My apologies, I obviously did not taking your undie-loving self into consideration when I published my generalisation. What I really should have said is "Beardie and some other boys just don't get it." And my use of the word 'some' would have saved me from gaining this reputation as a gross generaliser who generalises everything generally.

But you're right, good undies are really very hard to come by, and when I was relaying this same tale to somebody at work they said "why didn't you buy a few more pairs?" to which I replied "ALAS! I am but a fool!" etc. I will not make this same mistake again. And as for your work pants, you need to find some new ones, STAT! It's just not worth going to work every day if you know you have eight hours of wedgie to look forward to.

Miss V, I did actually put them on and prance around in them as well, to no avail. On or off, they are apparently kids underpants. And there can be no garment tearing if I look like I'm 10. Sigh. And your ex-colleague is the most inappropriate man in all the land! He sounds like he would give me the heebie-jeebies.