Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Making An Entrance, Hollywood-Style
Our long weekend was fab, thanks for asking. Other than Mr. Chick walking around gingerly-like with gauze shoved around his man-parts for protection and him getting all freaked out by the unsightly bruising that followed The Procedure, and me getting the date/day mixed up for the wedding we attended (seriously, aren't most weddings on SATURDAYS, not Sundays? They are, aren't they? Most churches don't have weddings on Sundays, do they? Well, apparently this one did because the wedding was on Sunday but I could have sworn it was on Saturday, which is what we planned for. Oops. Only made one crazy-sounding remark to a relative of the bride who had no idea I was this nuts before I clued in and figured out the wedding was the next day. My bad.), which meant we had to spend an extra day at the lake house as a result, and do about 3-4 loads of laundry to make up for only packing for ONE night, not two, which is more laundry than I usually do at home for chrissakes. So other than all of THAT, we had a nice time.
The weekend started off with a pre-wedding bbq at the lake next to my parents lake. How convenient! It was lovely, but dry. And not in a weather-sense, but in a no-alcohol sense. Bummer. Mr. Chick didn't so much care, however, because he was on Vicodan, so life was pleasantly numb for him. Lucky bastard. The next day was spent just hanging around the lake, doing nothing in particular. Then we gussied up and left the kids with my parents and went to the wedding. Fun times. We got to see some friends from law school we hadn't seen since graduation, so that was nice.
Labor Day, yesterday, was the day of some friends annual bbq. We've not been able to attend very many (like, just one) because we lived in another town for nearly 4 of the 5 years they've been hosting, but this year we could come. And we made QUITE the entrance, I must say. You see, on Friday my father-in-law came to visit. And he usually brings treats for the kids. This time, he brought a treat for Mr. Chick (and by extension, me). Since Mr. Chick is an only-child there is no one else for his dad to spoil and give stuff to. Other than our kids now, of course. So when FIL decided that he had too many cars (yes, apparently one can HAVE too many cars, which floors me) he gave one to Mr. Chick. Just gave it to him, just like that. It's a cute 2002 Chrysler Sebring convertible, dark blue with tan interior. The only "string attached" is that Mr. Chick can't turn around and use it as a trade-in on another car. If it turns out that he wants to get another car he's supposed to give this car back to fil because fil likes this car but just doesn't need it now/anymore. BUT, if we're still driving it after 4 years, THEN it's ours to use as a trade-in if we want. Ok, I can live with that deal. Because the car Mr. Chick used to drive? SUCKED! It was way, way, WAY past it's expiration date. To quote Mr. Chick, "the Saab's last leg fell off a few weeks ago." It was a 1990 Saab 9000 Turbo that he'd been driving for 10 years. It had over 200k miles and just about every system was in failure. No airbags (faulty sensor), no suspension, no turbo (0 to 50 in 35 minutes - yeah!), no a/c, ripped leather seats, etc. It was in bad shape. And Mr. Chick's commute to work is 30-45 minutes each way, so he was hating it. But we're opposed to having a car payment and had been keeping the Saab barely functioning through law school and beyond until we could afford to buy something else. The day after he got the Sebring from his dad we took the Saab to our mechanic and just signed the title over to him. He kept that damn car running far longer than anyone else would, and never charged us for his time. He earned the right to that car and to sell it for scrap or just part it out. So the Saab is GONE (yay!) and we welcome the perky Sebring to our driveway.
Which brings me, at last, to my hollywood entrance. We decided to take the family to the Labor Day bbq in the convertible. We loaded the kids in their carseats in the back and headed out. I dressed the part, complete with a scarf over my head to protect my 'do, and sunglasses to shade my eyes. VERY old Hollywood, from the neck up, that is. Even Lauren got in on the act. We looked at her as we hit the freeway and realized that she was having to hang her head very low to avoid her hair whipping her in the face. Oops. I wasn't having that trouble, not with my scarf action and all, but forgot that Lauren might need some hair-help in the convertible. So we improvised and found a little hand towel that Mr. Chick had used to shine up the dashboard (he detailed the entire car, sore nuts be damned) and put that over her head and told her to hold tight to the corners under her chin. Which she did (I was very impressed). So we roll up to the bbq, honking the horn and waving at our friends, who I don't think recognized any of us. New car, me with a scarf and shades on and Lauren with a towel over her head. QUITE the entrance. It was fun. I took a girlfriend out for a spin in the neighborhood (she'd never been in a convertible, if you can believe it) and enjoyed myself immensely.
I mean, if you can't make a grand entrance, stay home!
The weekend started off with a pre-wedding bbq at the lake next to my parents lake. How convenient! It was lovely, but dry. And not in a weather-sense, but in a no-alcohol sense. Bummer. Mr. Chick didn't so much care, however, because he was on Vicodan, so life was pleasantly numb for him. Lucky bastard. The next day was spent just hanging around the lake, doing nothing in particular. Then we gussied up and left the kids with my parents and went to the wedding. Fun times. We got to see some friends from law school we hadn't seen since graduation, so that was nice.
Labor Day, yesterday, was the day of some friends annual bbq. We've not been able to attend very many (like, just one) because we lived in another town for nearly 4 of the 5 years they've been hosting, but this year we could come. And we made QUITE the entrance, I must say. You see, on Friday my father-in-law came to visit. And he usually brings treats for the kids. This time, he brought a treat for Mr. Chick (and by extension, me). Since Mr. Chick is an only-child there is no one else for his dad to spoil and give stuff to. Other than our kids now, of course. So when FIL decided that he had too many cars (yes, apparently one can HAVE too many cars, which floors me) he gave one to Mr. Chick. Just gave it to him, just like that. It's a cute 2002 Chrysler Sebring convertible, dark blue with tan interior. The only "string attached" is that Mr. Chick can't turn around and use it as a trade-in on another car. If it turns out that he wants to get another car he's supposed to give this car back to fil because fil likes this car but just doesn't need it now/anymore. BUT, if we're still driving it after 4 years, THEN it's ours to use as a trade-in if we want. Ok, I can live with that deal. Because the car Mr. Chick used to drive? SUCKED! It was way, way, WAY past it's expiration date. To quote Mr. Chick, "the Saab's last leg fell off a few weeks ago." It was a 1990 Saab 9000 Turbo that he'd been driving for 10 years. It had over 200k miles and just about every system was in failure. No airbags (faulty sensor), no suspension, no turbo (0 to 50 in 35 minutes - yeah!), no a/c, ripped leather seats, etc. It was in bad shape. And Mr. Chick's commute to work is 30-45 minutes each way, so he was hating it. But we're opposed to having a car payment and had been keeping the Saab barely functioning through law school and beyond until we could afford to buy something else. The day after he got the Sebring from his dad we took the Saab to our mechanic and just signed the title over to him. He kept that damn car running far longer than anyone else would, and never charged us for his time. He earned the right to that car and to sell it for scrap or just part it out. So the Saab is GONE (yay!) and we welcome the perky Sebring to our driveway.
Which brings me, at last, to my hollywood entrance. We decided to take the family to the Labor Day bbq in the convertible. We loaded the kids in their carseats in the back and headed out. I dressed the part, complete with a scarf over my head to protect my 'do, and sunglasses to shade my eyes. VERY old Hollywood, from the neck up, that is. Even Lauren got in on the act. We looked at her as we hit the freeway and realized that she was having to hang her head very low to avoid her hair whipping her in the face. Oops. I wasn't having that trouble, not with my scarf action and all, but forgot that Lauren might need some hair-help in the convertible. So we improvised and found a little hand towel that Mr. Chick had used to shine up the dashboard (he detailed the entire car, sore nuts be damned) and put that over her head and told her to hold tight to the corners under her chin. Which she did (I was very impressed). So we roll up to the bbq, honking the horn and waving at our friends, who I don't think recognized any of us. New car, me with a scarf and shades on and Lauren with a towel over her head. QUITE the entrance. It was fun. I took a girlfriend out for a spin in the neighborhood (she'd never been in a convertible, if you can believe it) and enjoyed myself immensely.
I mean, if you can't make a grand entrance, stay home!
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WOW - very generous gift from FIL even with the attached strings. A deal anyone could live with. Cool and a nice surprise. LMAO about Lauren with the towel on her head.
MCM
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MCM
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