Posts Tagged ‘cars’

Apparently my Good Sense of Humor Beats out any Sense of Pride

In Essays, The Daily Drool on April 28, 2010 at 11:18 pm

I don’t remember the last time I peed in the bush… I remember being told stories of how my grandfather would refuse to stop the car when on road trips, making my grandma pee in cups or whatever was on hand.  I don’t know how she did it, or why she didn’t then club him over the head with her newly warmed bottles of piss – that’s what I would have done – but these stories have always horrified me.  Which is not to say I haven’t had my share of camping or hiking tinkles… I’ve even had a drunk “But I gotta go NOW” moment on the Sunset Strip ( did I just admit that?!)  But I haven’t had to “make water” in the outdoors for YEARS, years, years…

Which is why, as I departed Prescott on my way to LA, I was flabbergasted at the bad-bladder-cocktail my inept sense of self, dismal planning, and now-empty travel mug, had created.

I was going to have to pull over.

My first thought was “Hell no, I ain’t puling over!  You see all that desert out there?  What is someone, some pervert, has a little crow’s nest all set up near the yucca…  just waiting for this kind of highway panic?  He whips out a rifle and picks me off… he films me and posts it on youtube… he laughs.  (Aparently in my mind, all highway pervert you-tubers are male)

Anyway, no amount of nay-saying by my brain was going to get my bladder to shut the hell up.

So I stopped.

I pulled over…

I opened both passenger-side doors so I could create a little three-sided Not-A-Potty for myself and just prayed that my overactive imagination was wrong, and that there wouldn’t be any glinting on the horizon from rifle sights, video cameras, or grody old man sunglasses.

And then I peed.

For about  FIVE whole minutes… or two.  I don’t know, it felt like FOREVER.   I mean, just WHAT the HELL did I drink this morning?  I don’t remember guzzling a gallon of anything… yet there it was, erupting (sorry, but it was) from my bladder with the most indelicate kind of joy…  “FREEEEEEEE AT LAST!!!!!”

I’m sitting there squatting there thinking “Please, don’t splash.  Don’t splash. PleasePleasePRETTYPRETTYplease, Don’t splash!”  while my legs are gasping “Hey, lady, maybe you should take us the gym a little, huh?  Too much time at the computer is making for a painful perch.” and my bladder, my happy relieved bladder, could care less about any of the bodily/neurotic conversing happening around it.

The wind whistled beneath my bum, cars flew past with nary a hint of stopping to see if I needed help (Oh, my GOD, can you imagine?!  Horror!) and I was ready to dry off the used parts and get back in the car, when it struck me curious… what does one do with their non-toilet-paper when one is peeing by the side of the road?  I mean, my GOD, I’m not a pooch.  I don’t carry baggies…

All this as I’m struggling to hike up my pants and crawl back into the car without standing upright and giving the cacti a flash of my fanny.

So I did the only thing I could think to do… I left the tissue there:  From tree-pulp you came, which is of the Earth, so… ummm, to Earth you shall return.

And as I pulled back onto Highway 89, happy to have avoided wetting my pants but embarrassed to be 30 years old and not have the foresight to have stopped at the gas station 80 miles back, I took a gander in the rearview mirror.

There was the evidence of my visit- dancing across the road, carried off by the wind.

Blowing Gaskets

In The Daily Drool on February 17, 2010 at 11:46 am

Well… the phone rang this morning with the despicable news that my car, lovely, scraped up Miss Irma, had not only cracked her radiator and ruined her temperature gauge, but she had blown her head gasket as well.

I don’t know what the gasket is responsible for, but evidently it’s major, because the voice on the phone was very serious.

And it’s deadly expensive.

BUT, and here’s the only real rainbow here, because I am the original owner, and because I left it in the hands of the dealer, this repair is covered under Hyundai’s 10 year/100,000 mile gaurantee.

Yes, say it with me now:  “WHEW!”

But I will be sans car into next week.  NEXT WEEK!

There is something about car problems that is absolutely overwhelming.  Here you have this big heavy machine at your disposal and absolutely no idea how it works… you are completely dependent on the service technicians to tell you what it needs and then you just kind of sit back and hope that it all works out alright.

Looks like I’ll be doing a lot more walking than I thought…

When it rains…

In Essays, The Daily Drool on February 14, 2010 at 10:11 am


Today, was…. a day.

My car overheated and stalled out on me in Van Nuys.  I was on my way to Valencia – thank GOD it didn’t crap out on me there – and it started overheating, so I pulled off and “POP!”  No more oomph.

And while I had smartly called my dad for some “My car is reading really hot!” advice, it was at this point all the fatherly wisdom in the world couldn’t help me move my car.  Thank goodness for the three gentlemen who heeded my (forehead bunched, eyes misty, hands up in the air in pre-panic) “CAN ANYONE HELP ME MOVE MY CAR?!” call after several others had driven around me.

And after all the “WTF?!” was subsided, I managed to find a friendly voice at a Hyundai dealer in Van Nuys who was able to help me get my car transported to their (closed till Monday) service center.  I will admit, seeing her friendly face after the morning’s trials was a sweet relief!  Especially when the first dealer I called offered me about as much help as wet noodle in a thunderstorm.  “Oh, you’re stuck?  Well, here, have some attitude!”  Honestly, I’ve never been so frustrated and stymied by the lack of customer service.  Not only were the idiots at the Hyundai dealership in L.A. uninterested in helping me get to their dealer, they couldn’t care less about trying to help me find a way to contact the one closer to me.  (There is a strongly worded letter heading their way, believe you me!)

And then my dear friend Doc, as caring a man as you could dream of, drove to rescue me from my Valley adventure.

Because, when it rains, it pours, and sometimes you need a friend to bring you an umbrella.

I’ve gone through a lot this past year, and it’s time like this- when the people around me amaze me with their generous spirit and love – that I manage to fight back the rising panic and find some joy in the storm.