Hard to say goodbye...

Sonny sold his vintage car today. Officially. He's been trying to sell it for a month or some, with no luck. He tried Craigslist and only got a bunch of bored jackals responding to the ad. Then he tried the local newspaper's classified section. No luck. We even tried the Cleveland Free Times' classified section online. Zero. So we stumbled on to eBay and paid the 50 bucks to auction off his car there. Nada. I mean, he got bids. But they didn't come close to his reserve. I was proud of him when he tried again. Still wasn't able to hit the reserve. But this time his second chance offer was snatched up. The guy immediately wired (via paypal) 500 bucks and made plans to drive to Lorain from St. Paul, MN.

As much as I know this was the best decision, it was still a tough one. Sonny loved that car. All the effort and money and time he invested in restoring... I know he loved that car. But he just stopped being able to care for it properly. A little rust set in and before we knew it the car began to resemble Miss Havisham's cake. Complete with broken little cobwebs and a fine layer of dust.

I guess this worked out. It worked out for the best. His transaction went off without a hitch, and now we can both enjoy being parked in the two-car driveway, where before his vintage car took up one spot leaving only one vacant.

*sigh* But I miss it already.

School's out for summer...

This is an open letter to any junior high kids in my area:


STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THE STREET! Seriously.


I almost hit a little girl yesterday, on my way home from work. Okay that's a slight over exaggeration but anyway... There were cars parked along the curb in my lane and as it was I had to navigate over the double yellow lines to keep from skinning a paint job or taking off a side view mirror. But here come these two kids, definitely old enough to know better, riding in the middle of my lane. One of the girls rode her bike up on the curb, in an attempt to get out of my way. But the other one came towards me, staring defiantly into my eyes as if daring me to hit her. This training bra wearing heifer was playing Chicken with me in my Taurus! I relented, moved over farther in the opposite lane to let her between me and the parked cars. But I don't understand it.


I can admit to myself, she looked exactly like one of the gremlins with whom I used to attend junior high school. The kind with *ahem* "the good hair" and the tangerine-sized boobs when everyone else was in Pancake City. The kind that little boys used to whisper about on the playground. Yes, I remember that far back. And I know what made those girls tick. It was a lack of parental discipline, a lack of consequences to their actions. It's bothersome because... honey, you can't ride around in the middle of the street. ESPECIALLY during a holiday weekend! Do you know how many drunk drivers are out there?! Arrgg. So this is my open letter. Read it. Learn it. And be careful, for cripes sake!