"Evil Sometimes Feels Good": a Summer re-run

Today's Summer re-run is (not) brought to you by the fastly-becoming-an-epic-trend Twilight Bracelet! I know I've said it before, but I embarrassingly admit to being a fan of Stephenie Meyers' cute, little vampire series. (Except I'm of the few who prefer Jacob to Edward). If you're a fan, check the site out and tell your own sick, eternal love story through a piece of jewelry. Cool idea! And if you're not a fan of the idiot Bella... well? Don't be hatin'!
***Update: I completely forgot! When shopping for your Twilight Bracelet, enter the code "Inksplasher" during checkout for a 10% discount!***

And now for the feature presentation:

Evil Sometimes Feels Good

There are three simple, unspoken, but widely understood rules to automatic carwash etiquette:

1. Any rules subject to standing in any line, be it grocery or otherwise, duly apply. This includes any decorum regarding butting, and the ever popular “I’m reading a magazine an aisle away but I’m clearly still in line, which I’m making apparent to you by establishing eye contact every 10 seconds, so don’t you dare take one step forward” act. (And yes, I have found these examples to take place while in line for the carwash - astonishing, I know.)
   
   
2. If your carwash of choice kindly provides a soapy bucket and brush for you to scrub off any cemented-on dirt before entering, please promptly cease said scrubbing when it becomes your turn to enter the wash. Put the brush down, get in your car, and enter the wash.
   

3. When it’s your turn to enter the wash, wait for the person before you to finish their drying cycle before pulling forward. This prevents your undercarriage wash from re-soaking the car ahead of you. And please also be respectful if the neurotic in front of you feels it’s necessary to sit there for all 49 seconds allotted for the dryer.
   

Today was agitating and it’s entirely my fault. I slept not only through my alarm, but through 1.5 hours of my alarm, on volume 19 nonetheless (out of 20). So I skipped breakfast for time's sake. Then I skipped lunch because I was playing the “I’ll go in 10 minutes” game all afternoon. By 4pm I had the starvation migraine. By 5pm I had a lethal case of rancor. By 5:30 I was pushing the button to add the Extreme carwash to my gas fill up – and none too thrilled, still.

I pulled out of pump 6, aimed straight for the carwash entrance. Ahead of me at pump 2, is an ornery looking 40 something man with sprayed-on hair just getting back into his car. He starts his car, pedal fully down before the engine even has a chance to turn over, and slips neatly into the carwash line as I break (oh WHY did I break?) to avoid an incident. As if that’s not enough, Mr. Slickspray actually LOOKS for my reaction in his mirror.

U T T E R.....R A G E.....E N S U E S

I wave and smile the cheesiest smile I can muster. I won’t go into detail about how he had to enter his wash code three times before he got it right, (and I gave him a “thumbs up” out my window for it) or how, after getting his front wheel perfectly in that little ridge that starts the carwash, still backed up twice to reposition himself. I sat there and thought that it’s unfortunate we’re in cars and not in the grocery line where I could audibly clear my throat over and over while staring at the back of his crackled-paint bald spot and wishing I had the guts to huck my gum on it. No, we were sound-and-krusty-proof to each other. I’d have to get creative.

So, in lieu of common courtesy, I violated automatic carwash rule number three. And no, I didn’t
wait until the 45^th second. In fact I didn’t wait until the first second. I simply pretended to be as ignorant as he was in the ways of the day-to-day carwash, and gosh, I got mixed up on which “Drive Forward” I was supposed to read. Apparently I read his Drive Forward sign instead of mine and rode his bumper all the way out the door. He did pause for about 3 seconds in the dryer but gave up after he realized my under-carriage wash was spewing mud and winter salt every which way.

and then…

my ultimate retribution…

a big shiny present with a billowing pink bow and it smelled like chocolate and peanut butter…

Mr. Slickspray waved the evil finger at me through his rear-view mirror.

And then I had French Toast for dinner to celebrate.

Summer Re-Runs

Thought I'd replay some episodes from S+F's "Best Of".... This episode made possible by the following:

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And now for your feature presentation....

It's been a little while since I've seen you, but it feels like it's been forever because I know the distance is greater than it was before. Perhaps because even when I pretend otherwise, I know deep down I can't just come knocking on your door when I want to see your face.

I never dared to open my mouth and tell you how wonderful a person you are. How, in my eyes, you could hold the moon and the stars if you wanted. How I admired your way of living as if you were hiding angel wings behind you everywhere you went. I never told you how I feel because sometimes a feeling means so much more than a mere word can describe. Sometimes saying something out loud or even writing it down on paper strips the greatness out until all you have is a collection of words, poetic at best.

Right now my memory of you is so clear. From playing "makeup" with you in your bathroom and watching you rat your hair to death, to the walk to town and back in Avenal, and then the most recent giggling about memories and discussing whatever came up. My memories range from watching you as a child to truly enjoying a deeper relationship with you as an adult.

It's funny how something so simple as a smell or a song can become a treasure. Thank God for the smell of banana oatmeal and the taste of those goldfish crackers - the kind you made dance in the air while you taught me how to sing that song about the fishes and the dam.

I find myself wondering lately what you're up to. Are you busy being a guardian angel to some little boy or girl? Are you held up in meetings about when to let it rain, when to shine? Or do you have a moment to peek down on me once in a while? Can you see me here in this very moment writing about you? Do you ever smile when I accomplish something great? Hold my hand when I'm overcome with sadness? Do you have a moment here and there to paint my sunset or blow me a kiss? If I concentrated long enough, would I be able to feel you here around me? Can I believe you're still here with us, breathing... watching... moving...?

I wonder if you've yet been enlightened to all this world's mysteries. If you now know all the answers - about life and religion - about which one is real, or if it even matters. I wonder if you've met my unborn children. Have you held them in your arms?

I'll choose to believe it's all true. That you can see us all, that you hug me back when my soul reaches out, that you can read these very words as I write them and feel the strength behind each one - the strength that would be there if they weren't merely words.

You were something. You're still something. An inspiration. One that makes a difference in every single day.

cher·ish (chrsh) - To harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely.

You Are My Sunshine