Drive yourself out of the funk - be grateful in your POS auto

I generally get along well with men, because I understand that your car is an extension of your personality, and indicates a good bit about who you are.

Wow. That statement really illustrates how keyed in I am to the hologram ( Carlos Castaneda) or the Matrix (those damned Coen (?)brothers). Whatever.

So the car thing is just a metaphor for how I'm feeling right now. I drove past this couple this morning driving a baby-poop brown '80 Chevy something-or-another and I felt better. I drove one of those once - very temporarily - when my husband broke my car and my parents refused to sell me the Mercedes.

Yes, my auto today is a Ford, and I hate that. Yes, it's a gas guzzler, and I hate that too. I'm at mile # 218,736. I don't have a tape player, much less a CD player in it. One of the backseats is piled with my laptop bag, my purse, my sweatshirt, a bunch of notebooks, and anything Charky has hidden. It smells like smoke, and 3 of the seatbelts don't work.

But it's mine, and paid off. The insurance is ridiculously low (Thank you, John Oxendine!), and it gets me where I'm going at a higher level than little economy cars. The tires have better tread than Z's pimp car, so I don't worry so much about sliding on ice, or hydroplaning at 70 mph like I did in my accident (see blog archive, August 2005).

I took the 5 strengths test, part of my Positive-Psychology Practitioner's advice. And my 5th strength, to my surprise, was gratitude.

I certainly feel like an ungrateful bitch. My mother always told me that. And it seems that many of my actions in the past towards those I love indicated that I wasn't grateful to have them around.

But I do feel grateful quite a bit. I'll give some examples - more for my therapeudic benefit than yours - and I'll tell you where I am.

- I heard from a friend of mine who I must have blogged about a long time ago. I had been looking for him, I suppose. This myspace thing does suck, it makes real blogging look so serious. But everyone I've ever located seems to be there. Anyway, it was a nice surprise to hear from him, and he looks well. Good tidings.

- I'm a little crafty lately. I'm about at the point where I'm going to start selling this crap on ebay. I am really hesitant to start behaving like that horrible tea-pot collecting lady with 18 cats who has crocheted doilies all over her kitchen, but whatever. Hippie art, I call it. I'll post pictures when I convince Z to find my camera-battery cord.

- I finally figured out how to place a call on the f@ckberry, so I can call people again. Now just to add my phone book from the razr.

- Day 8 on the starvation diet, and I'm doing ok. Craving a Taco Bell bean burrito hardcore.

- Sold my soul to the devil yesterday and shopped at Walmart. I know, spank my hand. I rationalize that it's okay to shop at Walmart when you're poor and jobless. Anyway, my other reason for avoiding Walmart is that it's so un-chic. Oh, yeah, and they joined forces with the anti-contraceptive christians in cartersville, and NO LONGER SELL CONDOMS THERE. F%CKERS.

So I went to the new Walmart south of Pumpkinvine Creek, and gee whiz. That place is like the ritz. It's ALMOST as pretty as the new SuperTarget. What a pleasant experience....

I don't know what my point was here. Oh yeah. I was grateful to have such a pleasant Walmart experience.

- I'm utterly grateful that Caridee was picked as America's Next Top Model, because that Melrose bitch strikes a violent cord in me. I found it a bit perturbing that she is from San Francisco, and reminds me of every other snotty beatch I knew there.

- I'm grateful that avocados are on sale. Nothing can bring you out of a funk like a little avocado. They are so happy looking, aren't they?

So I'm okay and hanging in here. I'm making gingerbread, and planning clothes for Charky's puppy (her Xmas present). My kitty is on my lap, and actually acting sane today. I have a beautiful heirloom tomato - almost purple - that I'm fixing to cut up and dip in balsamic. My hazelnut coffee rocks, and I dug up some cinnamon incense from the xmas box. I have a bunch of twinkly lights from Z's momma, and I'm going to start stringing. Charky is in the Xmas parade tonight, and I'm prepping for that. Our xmas party, complete with all-night poker, is next week and I'm excited.

It's all good. Hope you all are equally okay.

By the way, back to the auto thing - Let me know what y'all think about the car cliches. Do old people really drive PT Cruisers? What does a Beemer convertible say about a man? Why do women Beemer drivers all wear sunglasses? Will a minivan ever be chic? Why do all men driving Jeeps seem gay? Are all female VW bug drivers gay?



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