beep beep yeah

Have I mentioned that my car is still in the shop? Still. In. The. Shop. Still. I took it in 2 weeks ago! Want to hear the story? Of course you do. Why do I even ask?

So, I got a call from Tiffany at the body shop (very nice gal) the Wednesday after I took the car in. She said they found more damage and told my insurance (who will remain nameless unless I get my car back soon) and she was waiting on approval in order to move forward. That's fine. Normal. Good so far.

And I think it was Friday morning that Tiffany called me again saying that my insurance adjuster finally called her back. Finally? Turns out they found the extra damage on Monday and had been calling my adjuster every day for a week. Seriously? Oh yes. And I guess my adjuster, let's call her Amy because that's her name, tried to claim that she never got the messages. All 5 of them. Uh huh. Sure. That's believable. Should've just gone with the too busy to call you back excuse. Works every time. Anywayyyy, so at this point Tiffany says that she's spoken with Amy and Amy wants to send a guy out to inspect the extra damage and approve the new estimate before they start any body work.

Fine. No problemo. It sucks that it had been a week thus far, but I can roll with it.

Sooo, Tuesday rolls around and Tiffany (I love Tiffany) calls me again saying that the guy (neither of us knows who this dude is or what his job title is) has yet to come out and my car is just sitting there waiting for my insurance to wave their little magic wand and approve the damn work. At this point, I can no longer be nice (to the insurance). I thank Tiffany and tell her I'm calling Amy to see if I can't get things rolling. I leave Amy a polite yet firm message and didn't hear back at all on Tuesday.

Thursday morning. Magical Thursday morning, I get a call from a guy called Jimmy (the mystery insurance guy) saying he'd approved the estimate and is sending the body shop a check. Thank you jebus finally! FINALLY! I guess I just needed to make that call, but DUDE, I shouldn't have to. My insurance should do its job. They're getting my money. They're paying for my rental. You'd think they'd want to save some money there, right? Lame.

And while I am glad this is finally working out, the fact remains that my car has been sitting, lonely and alone and cold, in the body shop. Just sitting there for 2 damn weeks. Just waiting for the work to get started. I took it in 2 weeks ago and the work just began yesterday! For serious. And of course I don't blame the body shop. They've been nothing but professional and kind. I went through them because I took my car there last year when she was totaled (I'm sure I told you that story) and they were very nice. They were also very comforting and understanding when I needed to grieve the loss of Darla, my very best and most reliable car. Not only did they not laugh, but one gave me a hug while another got me a coffee. They are very nice people. I might be a tad over dramatic and loony tunes, but they are very nice over there. If you live near me and ever need a good body shop, I can recommend a good one.

Needless to say, I am ready to get my car back. Obviously nothing will happen this weekend, but I'm really hoping for early next week.

Arg

Photo of the Day: New Meaning of Boat Car

I took this shot whilst driving the other day and said out loud, REALLY? What you probably can't see are all the sparkles, the kind you see on boat paint jobs. I have to wonder what makes a person paint their car like a boat. Do you just not have a boat and really want one? Or do all the vehicles in your life get that paint job?

unless you got buns, hon

Took my pretty Lola (oh, Lola is my car) into the shop today to get her poor little hangnail fixed. Shouldn't take more than a week, they said, but the hardest part will be matching the paint. Damn me and my fancy paint! Now, it's not like I ordered a fancy custom paint job when I bought this car last year. But when I was shopping, I fell in love with this purply (BTW, do we love that purply was a real word according to spell check? um, yes!) metallic blue. It's a kicky blue that looks purple in the sun and just so totally suits me.

Here is a picture of me avec my new baby Lolo last year when I picked her up at the baby store:

God, I can't believe how big my butt had gotten! I should explain. I've always been fairly thin and I've always been fairly active. About 5 years ago, when I was working in fashion (more on that another time), I gained a little weight due to stress and living on Red Bulls (evil, evil little Red Bulls. fuckers.), but it wasn't much and I dropped it quickly after I quit. But almost 2 years ago, when I started my first ever desk job (and a job with lots of gourmet, free food), I packed it on a bit. Now don't scoff. I realize that in that picture, I am by no means obese, but I was certainly bigger than I'd ever been and I just didn't feel healthy. I didn't feel like me. Plus, dudes, there was a reason I was wearing such a blousy shirt. I was puffy, not blind.

But besides being an active-type gal with my dancing and swimming and general love of the outside, I had never sat at a desk. My first job was in retail and for 7 or so years, I spent my days running around the floor of whatever store I was running. And it got worse the more responsibility I got. But my butt always stayed fairly small. Even when I worked in a TV production company office, the desk work was balanced with running errands, delivery tapes, and fetching a million things during a shoot. Small butt again.

The smallest my butt has been since I was dancing almost full time was when I lived in Europe. My little ass couldn't help it (get it? heh). I was walking everywhere, climbing 6 or 7 flights (don't really remember) up l'escalier du mort (the death stairs) up to my apartment in a 2oo year old building. Seriously, these stairs were like the stairs in Cinderella that the mice have to carry that huge key up. Only this wasn't a cartoon and that huge key was me. AND I still had dance class too. I got tiny. My poor cousin, god love her, thought I was starving myself when she came to visit. But, dude, I couldn't help it. I was eating all right. Pasta. Pastries. Bread. Custard. Gelato. Wine. Cheese. I was in food heaven in Paris. Seriously.

Before you all start stoning me for complaining about thinness. Give me a sec. We are all different and I think that when you're that active and walking everywhere, despite your body type, you're bound to tone up. I just happen to have a thinner type, so I got really thin. I like a little booty though, so when I got home, I didn't worry that I plumped a bit. It was nice. And for almost a year after I got home, I worked in retail again, at night. And I worked as a substitute teacher in the day. Talk about on your feet. In fact, my feet literally fell off. I had to get them sown back on. They just haven't been the same since.

But that damn desk. Now, don't get me wrong, I was (and still am) overjoyed to trade in my nurse shoes (ew) to sit at a desk and make enough money to pay my rent with one job, a job I actually like and am pretty damn good at. More than happy. But my butt just didn't know what to do. It was like a child that had never watched cartoons being introduced to the Cartoon Network. I became totally sedentary. Maybe not totally, but close to. And all that good food at events and meetings just contributed. My butt had gone to the dark side.

Well, that was over a year ago and I have since claimed my ass back for all that is good and holy (BAHAHAHA! like, I know what holy means. HAH!). I still enjoy the free food, just in moderation, and I've found a work-exercise balance. As I've said on here before, I've bounced around dance classes and I also like to jog and do pilates and sometimes yoga. It's a good balanced life and my butt is smaller on some days and bigger on others. Like normal people.

Next Saturday though, Internet, is Halloween, and I am wearing...wait for it....a tube top! I don't want to reveal my costume yet, but here's a hint: I am going as a real live person. A person in 1999. And I am going for authenticity here and that means I have to pull off a tube top. And that means my ass is working out every day this week. Every day. Every. Damn. Day. I am going for cute over frightening so this is crucial. I think it'll be okay. I just need to maintain the healthy eating and keep on exercising. I'll be hot stuff, just you wait and see.

So I realize that I started this post about my car and then drove way off in another direction. Oh well. Too bad. You didn't really want to read a whole post about my car, right? You'd rather read about my ass. See, this is how close we are getting, Internet. I just know how to anticipate your needs. Soon we'll be finishing each other's sentences. And that won't be creepy or pathetic at all.

Oh, also, Internet, I'll be changing the mastheads almost monthly now. But if you want to see the old ones, I'll upload them to my flickr feed which you can always find below.