Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Bad Things Happen in Three's . . . and, I'm up to Seven

I've had a post started for weeks on the virtues of planking, but it's not happening today.


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So, if you are interested in reading all about planking come back in . . . oh, I don't know . . . probably about four weeks.  This is going to be so much more fun.

They say bad things happen in threes. 




For example, when Michael Jackson's death was quickly followed by Farrah Fawcett's, we all sat around waiting for the other shoe to drop. 



Sure enough, Ed McMahon dropped within the week. 

Well, folks, I'm currently up to seven.    So, I've more than doubled the Three's Rule.  While I'm not one to be all "woe is me" all the time . . . let's do this.. 

1.  The Death of a MercedesMy run of bad luck began on Valentine's Day when I totaled my "mom car."  I've already talked about this on the blog so I'm not going there again.  No need to beat a dead horse.   Although #4 below is related . . .  so maybe we'll kick it a little. 

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2.  Can't Even Go Here.  It's too personal for even me to talk about.  I'm fine talking about farting, my love of book porn, the smell of vodka when I'm sweating, and a whole host of other topics that are probably TMI in post people's books.  But, believe it or not I do have my limits. Even if you hold me down and tickle me until I pee my pants, I'm not talking.

3.  Windy Bug.   I'm now relegated to driving the bug full-time, which is okay.  Sometimes it feels a little cramped, but all of my children are now within smacking distance.  So, they've I've got that going for me.  Last week, on one of the colder days, the driver's side window fell down inside the door and wouldn't raise again.  Now, I'm real picky about open windows.  I don't like wind or wind noise. 



Don't say, 'But it's a convertible.'  Don't even say it.  Unless I want the top down, I want that bug sealed up tighter that Brittany Spear's thighs in 1997.   

4.  Car Title Inspection.  Apparently, when you buy a car out of state, an actual OK tag agent has to visually inspect your VIN.  If you don't, the state holds your title ransom.  And, if the car dealership tags your car for you, you may never know this (unless, unlike me, you notice that you never received your title . . .).  When your car is a pile of rubble in a salvage yard, it makes the whole thing a little trickier.



When you can't provide your title to the insurance company, you can't get a check for your car.  When you can't get a check for your car, relegation to the bug continues. 

5.  Garmin.   Last week, the great and Powerful Oz asked to borrow my Garmin for a run, and I pulled it out to discover that the strap had broken. 

How something that has been sitting inanimate in a drawer for six months can spontaneously break is beyond me.  But, like me, my garmin may never run again. 

6.  Tiny Princess' Beautiful Face.  Is still beautiful, but will have a little additional character now that she has six stitches in her chin.  While at a friend's house, I let her ride on a wheeled cart that wasn't really made for children.  She fell off and hit her chin on the curb. 



When I'm accepting my mother of the year award later this year, someone go ahead and trip me.

7.  Bug Windshield.  This morning, I got into the bug and noticed that the windshield has about a six inch crack in the corner.  Sure, a truck threw a rock at me on Monday when I was in Dallas, but when I didn't see a chip I thought I was in the clear.  Apparently, not and that's pretty awesome, right? 

But, it could always be worse.  The Bug could look like this:





That's it for now.  Some people say, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."  I say, "When life gives you lemons, make it a club special." 



While I wait for #8, I might just have one.  Have a great spring break.

J #everythingitouchturnstoshit Mo

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