December 1st, 2004


(no subject)

Update I just sent to docorion:

Update: Cough. Cough now mucusy a little - feeling like my lungs are full to the top and the mucus sometimes sloshes over when I cough. Feels like the "fist" around my lungs has tightened fairly drastically. HURTS.


Oh, addendum - cough is only when I breathe too deeply. Which is a lot. But still - it's not a random cough. It is a cough that *punishes* me for my body's perceived wrongdoing.

Rin, dude, I'm gonna have to cancel lunch...

The Story of Tallulah

or, Another Example of my Ex-Husband's Mind-Boggling Stupidity.

(I don't want to get up yet. Getting up hurts. It is far less painful to sit here. I only came down here for medical advice...)

I was quite delayed on the learning to drive thing. Never wanted to. Was afraid to. But Dad made me, after Elayna was born; he got sick of shuttling Elayna and I to our doctor appointments.

My first car was my grandma's old car. She got a new Mazda - I got a 1980 Pontiac Sunbird.

Oh, man, that thing was ugly. And so old that it didn't have a cassette player - or even FM. Yep. AM radio. Nothin' else. I brought a boom box in the car with me everywhere, because living without music makes me all itchy-like.

Well, the car broke down and was not worth fixing. So Dad got me a '91 Ford Tempo. A perfectly decent car. And I drove that for a while... until the A/C went. It would cost approximately the value of the car to fix the A/C... so my ex-husband said he'd drive it, and I started driving the car he brought into the relationship, a '96 Ford Taurus.

So one day, I pick Miss Kid up from day care... and suddenly start to hear this awful grinding sound.

And then an even worse grinding sound.

And ze car, she stopped.

Called Dad. Dad showed up. Called for a tow truck, etc.

The verdict?

Fan belt. The fan belt had snapped and pretty much fused everything else together. Fuuuuun.

Apparently, you're supposed to replace the fan belt at 50,000 miles. We were at 55 or 56, I forget. And my ex-husband had never done a lick of maintenance on this car. So the warranty did not cover us. So Dad took us to the Hyundai place, because I needed an inexpensive car.

(Incidentally - this was the weekend of MegaCon 2000. Which Adam had flown down for, and we didn't get to go to, because my ex-husband is an idiot.)

So we get to the Hyundai place, and I pick out a cute little silver Accent, and we sit down and talk. We need to roll the remaining cost of the Taurus into the Accent in order to use what little value it had as a down payment. They asked how much we had left to pay, and I said $2,000.

I paid the monthly bills, you see. I handled money, because before me, if my ex-husband went a week without bouncing a check, it was an occasion to be celebrated.

They called... and reported that the payoff amount was $4,000.

The fuck?

See, this - this was my ex-husband's crowning glory, right here. He and his mother - because he never did a damn thing without mommy dearest, who was a nut job in her own right - wanted to save $20 a month on the car payments.

So they arranged to have a $2,000 balloon payment at the end of the loan.

$2,000. Balloon. Payment.

Never mind that they didn't tell me about this big looming bill that we wouldn't be able to pay without some serious saving up. Who the fuck does a *balloon payment*?

Who is that stupid?

My ex-husband. Lawdy.

So - end of story, we lumped that $4,000 in - which is why I had to pay $300/month for a freakin' Hyundai. When we sold the townhouse during the separation, I got $4,000 off the top (then split the rest evenly), since I was taking *that* car (he, at that point, got one used from my cousin).

And I have now paid my first *new* car off.

AND - I now have an INTELLIGENT husband.

Yay me!

(no subject)

It's just bronchitis.

My doctor said, after handing me prescriptions for industrial-strength Motrin and cough suppressant, "Continue to rest." I laughed till I coughed, and she amended that to "Okay, *start* resting."

And it actually hurts enough that I will. So. I'll grab a cup of tea and a book.

EDIT: My collar is... inconvenient during X-rays.

EDIT: Oh, and I lost another pound. But only one.

EDIT: In lieu of a pony, I want a chai (I got a gingerbread latte when I went to fill my prescription - mm!) and a Krispy Kreme pumpkin spice donut. *squinches face up trying REALLY HARD to teleport*
Writing - photo


Robitussin is so fucking nasty, y'all. So. Fucking. Nasty.

It is hard to type around a cat in one's lap.

haikujaguar is breathakingly talented. Seriously.

slipjig and rafaela are so schmoopy-cute.

It hurts to move.

Incidentally - Shayara fans can NOW order Shooting Star Comics Anthology #6.

Oh yes they can.

More on that tomorrow. :)