Category Archives: cars + driving

A World-Renowned Braggart

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This morning was one of those mornings where my eternal optimism (that’s a joke, y’all) and deep breathing techniques came in handy. I left my house fifteen minutes early (YES!) which means I had time to get Starbucks (DOUBLE YES!) and hop onto 84 just in time to get stuck in traffic FOREVER.

Normally, traffic makes my blood boil. But this morning, for some reason, I was able to take it in stride. In fact, the only thing that annoyed me on my entire morning commute was this (apparent) USC alum I got stuck behind on my way onto campus.

I get it. I really do. You’re proud that you went to one of the most respected private universities in the nation, and that you survived (presumably) four years in one of LA’s scariest neighborhoods. But do you really need the sticker AND the vanity plates? It’s like wearing plaid and paisley together. You really need to pick one or the other, because together, it’s just not a good look.

Thank You for Driving Safely!

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I got a speeding ticket in October. It was Yom Kippur, and I was rushing back to Merced to meet the crew who would be cleaning our house before our renters moved in the following weekend. For some reason, I was in Dan’s Corolla. And because I despise cruise control on Toyotas, I didn’t bother to use it. I ended up doing 80 MPH in a 65 zone.

And guess what? I got pulled over.

The cop was nice enough to give me a ticket for 75 MPH, as he said that would result in a smaller fine. But I was still going to have to pay the ticket, and still going to have to do traffic school to avoid getting another point on my license.

(For the record, I have two. One from speeding in April 2009, and another from the collision that destroyed my Mazda Protege in April 2010. April is apparently a bad month for me to be driving. I should be careful for the next few days.)

Remember this?

I immediately lost my citation, and spend the next two months trying to get documentation from the Alameda County Traffic Court so I could pay the associated fees. Following that, I spent another four months procrastinating on enrolling in and completing traffic school.

AND GUESS WHAT? It’s due TOMORROW.

So on Saturday afternoon, I begrudgingly logged on to Fast4UFun2.com. Here’s a surprising fact: It was neither fast nor fun.

It’s sort of like an online comedy driving school. All the information is there, but they insert weird stuff into the text to [unsuccessfully] try to make you giggle / make sure you’re actually reading through the material. And they test you on it. Some examples of weird shit included among the California Vehicle Code included:

  • “Cows have horns but they can’t be licensed to drive.” (From Chapter 1, Part 2.)
  • “Yul Brynner was a bald actor.” (From Chapter 2, Part 1.)
  • “The author thinks that the best time of day is 11:34 AM.” (From Chapter 4, Part 2.)

It took me a very painful four hours to finish the coursework (excluding the hour-long nap I took after the first chapter because it was 234908234 degrees in our house and I couldn’t focus). And what’s worse than learning about how many people die every year from drunk driving accidents? Having that information intermingled with random, irrelevant statements.

Seriously, online traffic school. Be more annoying. You can’t.

In this post, I will whine about my first world problems.

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It’s only Wednesday, and I’m already having a rough week, first and foremost because I’ve thought that EVERY SINGLE DAY THIS WEEK has been Friday. And I have been wrong ALL THREE TIMES. Can you imagine the disappointment when my alarm went off each morning? It’s like being five years old and running out of Chanukah presents on the third night ALL OVER AGAIN.

But there are some concrete issues. Like the fact that Nixon is still sick. I thought it was kennel cough, the vet thought it was kennel cough, and when the tests came back, we found that … it’s not kennel cough. So now my poor dog, who has been on antibiotics for a week, and is hocking up more loogies than he was before we put him on the antibiotics, is probably going to have to go in for more tests and chest x-rays. Because, you know, I’ve just got this wealth of extra money laying around that I need to do something with, and what better way to use it than emergency veterinary bills?

Secondly, yesterday I had the pleasure of having to replace a flat tire on my (basically) brand new car. Because, again, I have that extra money laying around, and why not spend a hundred and fifty dollars on a tire? I’m rich, aren’t I? AREN’T I, UNIVERSE?

And as if that’s not bad enough, this morning I was informed by two of my coworkers that I have a hole in my pants. As in, the rear of my pants. And now everyone I work with knows that my love of the color pink extends to my choice in underwear.

I am going to say this just once, universe: ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

I’m thinking that to make myself feel better, I should buy a lotto ticket for tonight’s drawing. Because if I win, it will be OMG SO AWESOME and totally make up for everything shitty that’s happened over the last few days (or the course of my life, even). And if I don’t win? I mean, really, after this week, how big of a disappointment will losing actually be?

Going Rogue

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No, I am not about to talk to you about how much I love Sarah Palin (I don’t) or how awesome her book was (it wasn’t). Instead, I am going to talk to you about my beautiful new car. You know, because I’m modest like that.

After a week of driving Dan’s Corolla around town and feeling completely claustrophobic in it, I decided I COULD NOT WAIT to get a car. So I spent the week doing research, not just on cars, but on the dealerships that sell them. THIS IS IMPORTANT. Do you want to buy a new car? A used car? You need to decide. I couldn’t afford new, so I went the used route. And between CarMax, Hertz, Enterprise, Budget, and CraigsList (which, frankly, I feel entirely uncomfortable with), Hertz was the only dealership with cars that were in my price range and met my needs.

And what were my needs? Pretty basic. I didn’t want a tiny car like I’d had previously, for two reasons. The first being my claustrophobia and my fear of all of the OMG SO GIGANTIC trucks that litter the Central Valley. (Do you have any idea how frightening it is to be turning into the same lane as a Ford F350 when you’re driving a Mazda Protege?)

Secondly, I needed something that was dog-friendly. Nixon fit in the backseat Protege, but it’s super gross to have your dog back there one day, and then the next day you need to give someone a ride and you have to offer them a towel to sit on and ask them to please excuse the mud / dog hair / drool / God knows what else.

Thirdly, I want power EVERYTHING. I don’t care if the car has a GPS navigation system or a twenty-disc changer, but I do mind having to manually roll down my windows because the original owner was THAT CHEAP. And if you’re asking yourself right now, “Do they still make cars with manual windows and door locks?” I can assure you quite confidently that they do. In fact, four out of the five cars I could afford from CarMax DID NOT have power windows or locks. I mean, REALLY??

On the plus side, Hertz – the car rental company from whom my dad has bought his last two cars – had just what I was looking for: medium-size, dog-friendly, Japanese-made vehicles with power everything at affordable prices. After looking through their inventory, I fell in love with the Rogue. Large but fuel efficient, sporty but utilitarian, I felt that this car met all my needs. So I started hunting for a model in my area.

The Stockton Hertz lot had two 2009 Nissan Rogues, both priced at $17,000 – one in gray and one in red. Dan advocated for the gray car, but I’ll be damned if I ever own another white / black / silver / gray car again. It’s just so blah. And I’m not interested in blah.

Then I called Roseville, who had a Rogue, in red, for $16,000. Would I drive the extra eighty miles to save a thousand bucks? You bet your ass I would.

So that’s how I spent my Saturday. Dan and I drove to Roseville where I test drove and immediately fell in love with the car. I then found out that the price had dropped another five hundred dollars, on top of the three hundred dollars I was already saving by being a Triple-A member.

HELLO. Where do I sign??

Three hours later, I drove off the lot in this beauty:

Under normal circumstances, I hate driving. But this car is just SO FUN to drive. And it’s PRETTY. And I’m finding myself making up excuses to go ALL THE WAY TO ATWATER to buy dog toys when there’s a perfectly good PetSmart around the corner from my house.

Do I have an addiction? Maybe. Am I okay with it? TOTALLY.

Damages

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Yesterday at about 7:00 in the morning, the sky opened up. And when I say “opened up,” I don’t mean that it startled drizzling and gradually crescendoed into a downpour. I mean that suddenly, out of practically nowhere, the world decided that Merced would like some serious torrential rain. And that’s precisely what we got.

So it’s understandable that with this sudden onslaught of balls awful weather, some residents of Merced forgot how to drive. And when I say “some residents,” I mean me.

I was two blocks from my house, turning onto Yosemite. As I went to move into the left lane, I looked over my shoulder to make sure the lane was clear. It was. As I looked back, I realized the car in front of me had suddenly stopped.

OH HELL NO.

But no matter how hard I slammed on my brakes, my tiny Mazda Protege was no match for the slick city roads. I slid right into the guy in front of me, causing minor damage to his car and massive damage to my own.

Fortunately, the guy I hit was super nice. As was my insurance company, for that matter. (State Farm for the win!) Unfortunately, this is the sorry mess currently sitting in my driveway:

According to my new BFF Mike from State Farm’s Loss Department (or whatever they’re called), my car will be picked up tomorrow, towed to some vehicle graveyard, and then State Farm will be sending me a check for upwards of five thousand dollars.

Yes, you read that correctly.

The moral of the story: While it sucks to be involved in a car accident, especially one that’s your fault, WHO THE FUCK CARES? I GET TO BUY A NEW CAR!