Curse of the Pagans

Sunday night I hear a "breaking" noise and then a grinding noise from my car. I cut my night short and go home to do something basic. I figure something got caught in the calipers that's making a noise, and since there's enough room for something to go into there then there's not enough meat on my pads.

I go home, where I have spare brake pads for JUST such an occasion. I lift my car, pop the wheel off and look. Hmmm... kinda thin, but no rock or anything jammed. I go to the cabinet where I have my pads and... hmm... where'd they go?

I look EVERYWHERE in the garage. I go ballistic. If there's one thing I'm tired of is people going through my stuff. And if that's not enough, the abject lack of respect for my stuff. It's not yours: why not just keep it where it is? I'm convinced it was tossed by my "loving" mother or my "everything is shit" father, first out of spite, second out of frustration. In my tirade I go over how inconsiderate everyone is and how I don't bother ANYONE but they just come out to me to cause problems.

I call work, I cannot have the day off tomorrow to fix things. Evidently someone I work with got a hair up his ass about how much vacation time I was given considering how much sick time I get. Well, you know, I can't help being sick. I'm really stressed at work and deserved the time off. Besides, a well rested programmer is just more effective. Period.

Anyway, my boss can't give me the day off because HIS boss is already "watching" me. Hmmm. He said try to come in anyway and if you have a disaster on the road at least I'll be able to produce documentation of it. Now that I recall this conversation, I'm wondering "well, what if I had a REALLY BAD accident?!" But I didn't even consider it at the time.

So this morning I go to work. I don't think twice about it. I mean, I gotta do what I gotta do. But, on that vein, I go on KROME to work. Ya, I guess you could call me a little dumb.

So when I tap on the brakes and feel the car trying to rotate to the left I think "gee, that's enough convincing" I pull over. I look at the wheel that was feeling weird and I see this glitter powder all over it. Attack of the stripper babes? No, attack of the ROTOR BEING GROUND DOWN.

Fine Underwear Cleans Kittens.

I flip open my cell and, oops, it's off. I turn it on and it lights up only to flash "NO BATTERY" on the screen and turn off. Hmmm... the thing got 3 days of standby when it was new. Now it's only two, huh? And it's not that I'm cheap or lazy, it's that the charge connector looks like it may encourage premature wear on the contacts. In hindsight that was pretty dumb, too.

The thing about Krome Ave is that after 8th street going north, there's really nothing around you to orient yourself. I could have walked further forward, but the best I could do is a group of ranch houses and a highway that's, for all intents and purposes, in the middle of nowhere. So I double back and start walking to the indian resort in the hopes that someone can give me a lift.

Pro Tip (TM): Fat male hitchhikers do not get picked up.

I also didn't have a towel with me so maybe that's it. Anyway, cars blazed by at 75+ mph. A police car even whizzed by me. Thanks, pigs.

My shoulders felt like they were going to light themselves on fire with the massive sunburning they got. By the time I actually GOT to Miccosukkee, only THEN does someone ask if everything's ok. I wanted to punch him, but, meh, at least I can't say NOBODY helped me.

So I picked up a payphone and called for help. At 50 cents. Jeez, when did payphones get so expensive? A wrecker came to me and we rode up Krome and picked up my car and took it to who knows where. It was a shitty looking shop at least.

Now, I'm really nervous about shops. I'm convinced every time you take it in to fix one thing they summon the seeds of destruction to cause more things to go wrong later. They told me my rotors were too gouged to be resurfaced (future travelling: my brother looked at them and said they'll probably be ok). So I agreed to new rotors and pads and all that. Then the rotors weren't in stock at the supply so they had to order it. Needless to say it was a long day.

Also my web host is STILL fucking stupid. I've given them the last 24 hours to fix my immediate problem. Then I can just sit out the rest of the year (March, pfft) and then move when the time is up. I really don't want to abandon my service with so much time left but what good is service without service? I can't get any of my fucking stuff done. Plus, I "sort of" can't afford to buy new hosting right now. "Sort of" as in I really don't want to pay it because my comfortable safety net will need to be pulled in a little, but I will if I HAVE to. Fucking Canucks.

Not only that but I've finally given up on ever getting my left bag from Jennifer. She probably sold the contents for more drugs or candy or whatever the fuck she spends her money on (it sure as hell isn't for an education or anything to better herself). Considering the insider sources are not able to confirm the True (sic) video iPod until 2007, and no word on a 8+ Gig Nano (which makes me totally wet thinking about), I gotta break down and buy the friggin' cable. Unless I never want to change what I carry on it (hint: I do). I'm just more upset than I was before. Sending it would have been a classy thing to do: but being more ASSY than CLASSY is what I can expect from that selfish child. So sad: that bag even had my favorite condoms in there. I had all the souls in my saved game for Castlevania Dawn of Sorrow. I might have even had a Mewtwo in that Pokemon cartridge. Heh, now I'm just playing "shopping cart" with the insurance company. No, it's not convered by any insurance I know. But I have been robbed before and when you're robbed you fill out the insurance claims going "well, how many reams of paper did I have before they stole them all?"

Meanwhile, I'm curious if she and her wiccan drug dealer roommate have "cursed" me. It's intriguing to think about for maybe a few minutes, then...

I go back to playing Beatmania. I never knew why I was so scared of 7 key. Well, when I had my controller hooked up to my computer for mixwaver, all those 7-key charts were just IMPOSSIBLE to play. Sort of how like fan stepcharts never have anything other than "HEAVY" in them. I mean, I'm starting out slow but so far I've passed every 1 star with a full combo (most with AA), passed every 2 star with an A or better (full combo about half and even one AAA), and passed every 3 star attempted so far (C or better, meh, it takes time). Given some time I think I can be pretty f'in' good with this. I'm anxious to get my controller out of storage and give some doubles play some love.

It doesn't matter how much hate they throw at me. I'll be ok. I've got love on my side.

And macaroni and cheese. You know, Love, Macaroni, and Cheese.