Oh frak me sideways...
So, my car apparently decided that she's just not getting enough attention, because she decided to crap out on me on the way home from work today.
Right in the middle of Ponce. During rush hour traffic.
Fortuantely, in the right lane, close to both a traffic light and the intersection of Clifton.
We suspect it's the fuel pump, as it's clearly not the battery, and when one starts the engine, it's obvious that it's turning over, it's just not catching. But since Vivian decided to go comatose after 17:00, getting her to a repair place today is clearly out of the question.
So, fuel pump means that my car can be repaired relatively quickly, which is a good. The bad is that, since the other car that my parents would otherwise lend me for the duration has been in an accident recently and is in the shop till Thursday, I'm going to be Marta-ing, walking, and begging rides for the next little bit.
Fortunately, work is fairly easily accessable by Marta. And I should be able to get myself to class on Saturday because the car I can borrow will be back by then. By Saturday, I might even very possibly have my car back, so there's another good.
But, and I'm not too proud to admit it, when the car died, I let out a shriek, increasingly louder repeitions of "No. No. NO!", a string of some fairly creative profanity, and finally just gave up and cried. Because I'm both rather hormonal at the moment and a Scorpio the rest of the time.
Plus, I grew up around actors and theatre tech people. I know some really good swear words, and it's just fun to use them along with creative applications of "frak" because I'm a great big geek like that. And Tolkien, oddly enough, neglected to write swear words into either Quenya or Sindarin, but you know...you just KNOW...that elves in Middle Earth must have SOME sort of colorful idiom to scream out whenever they see a really big-ass Orc arrow coming right at them.
God knows, if I was a Tolkien-elf, I'd probably have invented one right on the spot.
The most irritating bit really wasn't the being stalled on Ponce, or the omnipresent fear that someone would come speeding up and thus get me from behind before I could get someone there to help me move the car. No, it was the very special individuals who were behind me, could very clearly see that the only lights on in my car were the hazard lights which were blinking for all they were worth, and, we would pray to whatever deity they chose to believe in, passed the state driver's test which would have taught them little things like why hazard lights might be going on a vehicle, and, rather than just going ahead, putting on thier turn signal, and detouring into the next lane, chose instead to just start honking. Loudly. Because, clearly the reason my car is not moving is just because I don't want to move it.
Yes. I've stalled in the middle of one of Atlanta's main throughfares, right in the midst of rush hour traffic, because I thought it'd be funny.
(facepalm)Please, PLEASE tell me people who've managed to get driver's licenses are not THAT stupid.
So, kids, it's really important to understand that your car's horn is NOT a magical device, okay? It can't miraculously push obstacles out of the way or make stalled cars restart. It doesn't have the power to revive dead warriors, summon the Armies of the West, or even recall four English schoolchildren to save Narnia.
So, kindly stop honking that damn thing before I get up, get out of this car, and shove it somewhere we're BOTH gonna regret.
Comprende?
Right in the middle of Ponce. During rush hour traffic.
Fortuantely, in the right lane, close to both a traffic light and the intersection of Clifton.
We suspect it's the fuel pump, as it's clearly not the battery, and when one starts the engine, it's obvious that it's turning over, it's just not catching. But since Vivian decided to go comatose after 17:00, getting her to a repair place today is clearly out of the question.
So, fuel pump means that my car can be repaired relatively quickly, which is a good. The bad is that, since the other car that my parents would otherwise lend me for the duration has been in an accident recently and is in the shop till Thursday, I'm going to be Marta-ing, walking, and begging rides for the next little bit.
Fortunately, work is fairly easily accessable by Marta. And I should be able to get myself to class on Saturday because the car I can borrow will be back by then. By Saturday, I might even very possibly have my car back, so there's another good.
But, and I'm not too proud to admit it, when the car died, I let out a shriek, increasingly louder repeitions of "No. No. NO!", a string of some fairly creative profanity, and finally just gave up and cried. Because I'm both rather hormonal at the moment and a Scorpio the rest of the time.
Plus, I grew up around actors and theatre tech people. I know some really good swear words, and it's just fun to use them along with creative applications of "frak" because I'm a great big geek like that. And Tolkien, oddly enough, neglected to write swear words into either Quenya or Sindarin, but you know...you just KNOW...that elves in Middle Earth must have SOME sort of colorful idiom to scream out whenever they see a really big-ass Orc arrow coming right at them.
God knows, if I was a Tolkien-elf, I'd probably have invented one right on the spot.
The most irritating bit really wasn't the being stalled on Ponce, or the omnipresent fear that someone would come speeding up and thus get me from behind before I could get someone there to help me move the car. No, it was the very special individuals who were behind me, could very clearly see that the only lights on in my car were the hazard lights which were blinking for all they were worth, and, we would pray to whatever deity they chose to believe in, passed the state driver's test which would have taught them little things like why hazard lights might be going on a vehicle, and, rather than just going ahead, putting on thier turn signal, and detouring into the next lane, chose instead to just start honking. Loudly. Because, clearly the reason my car is not moving is just because I don't want to move it.
Yes. I've stalled in the middle of one of Atlanta's main throughfares, right in the midst of rush hour traffic, because I thought it'd be funny.
(facepalm)Please, PLEASE tell me people who've managed to get driver's licenses are not THAT stupid.
So, kids, it's really important to understand that your car's horn is NOT a magical device, okay? It can't miraculously push obstacles out of the way or make stalled cars restart. It doesn't have the power to revive dead warriors, summon the Armies of the West, or even recall four English schoolchildren to save Narnia.
So, kindly stop honking that damn thing before I get up, get out of this car, and shove it somewhere we're BOTH gonna regret.
Comprende?