Breakfast at the Mason Jar. Have y’all ever been there? I swear, I had eggs, bacon, home fries, biscuits and gravy, and a drink for like four dollars. And it was so much food I almost couldn’t eat it. An amazing amount of food.
Giving Little Pasture a Guatamalen baby. God bless Brittney Gilbert for being up for anything. We called her to tell her we were coming and that woman was in on the plan instantly. And boy did she sell that she’d found something weird.
Brownies and ice cream. Mack’s people made me brownies and ice cream for my birthday.
The kid who was peeking under the dressing room doors at the Goodwill, who, when he got caught, would not talk to anyone or do anything except stand there staring at his shoes as hard as he could. So cute.
How I was trying to talk to my dad on the phone and Mack and his kids were all, at various points, also trying to talk to my dad on the phone.
When I called the Man from GM to ask him about how much more money I should put into my car, he said “About five dollars. I think you can get a good ‘for sale’ sign for five dollars.”
The look on Mack’s face when I asked the Man from GM what kind of car he really likes and thinks a person should get and he said, “A Town & Country.” Mack’s whole face scrunched up like he’d just tasted poo. Pooh? I guess Pooh probably tastes like honey. So, it must be poo.
My car. It’s as aligned as it can be because I’ve got some other front end problem I can’t afford to get fixed. And when I asked the guys at the dealership how I can tell if putting another five hundred dollars into it would fix the car to the point where I could at least drive it until it was paid off or if this was just the start of it being a never-ending money pit, the one guy said, well, to get your oil leak fixed is bound to be another $400, so, really you’re probably looking at $900 to bring it up to good condition, but you don’t have to do that right away.
And here’s the thing. I love my car. I don’t mean that I love my car as some tool that helps me in my day to day life. I mean, when I turned it on last night and the dashboard lights flickered on and off a few times like they couldn’t decide if they were going to come on and stay on, I talked as sweet to that car as I’ve talked to lovers resting on my breast, coaxing it to just keep going, a little more, to get me home.
Having a car makes me feel free.
Then there’s the fact that I am not used to and have a hard time accepting when there’s just something I don’t know about.
Mack’s all “We’ll just get you a new car. I can work a deal. Blah blah blah fix-it-cakes.” and I’m standing there getting more and more frustrated and, frankly, scared because it makes no sense to me, none at all, that you can get a car when you still owe money on the car you have, which is, apparently, falling apart as fast as I can come up with the money to keep putting it back together.
I see Mack’s mouth moving. I hear the words coming out. I talk to the Man from GM. He also seems to think this would be a reasonable course, considering the circumstances.
And I cannot wrap my brain around it. It makes no sense to me.
Mack and the Man from GM might as well be saying, “Purple buzzards lick red flowers.” The words are words I recognize. I get that that’s a sentence, but it has no meaning to me; it just sounds like nonsense.
I find that sensation really scary–this feeling like I have to make a decision about a subject I know nothing about. And reading up is not going to help me because I cannot understand the basic concepts that underlie whatever it is I’m reading about.
I don’t get this at some elementary level.
And I really, really need to.