Nice Chevelle.

Mr. Buffie says - Our garage is full, you can't keep them all and something has to go.

So I stand in the door and admire my little collection.

There's Billy Idol, my badass white Z28.

There's Bart, Mr. Buffie's '62 Dart.

There's the Yeti, our junky truck.

There's a RX7 that's a project car we don't plan to keep.

There's Hubert Cumberdale, my Jaguar XJR.

and there's Josie, my most awesome of all, the '69 Olds Cutlass.

I've been struggling with this decision since last month, when he asked me if I wanted another Jag.  (Like, hello!  Who says no to that?!?!)  So I've known for a while I was going to be making a choice between Billy Idol and Josie.

Unfortunately, I picked Josie.  ~cry~

She's awesome, so very awesome.  But Billy does get somewhat better gas mileage and let's face it, fuel injection is boss.  But Josie has more soul.  You can't put a value on that. 

However, Billy Idol has airbags and shoulder seat belts, plus he's got a bitchin sound system (that I use responsibly because disturbing the peace is fucking rude, yo)...  so there are advantages.   Besides, almost every time I drive Josie, it never fails someone comes up to me and says "I like your Chevelle".  

Gah!  Chevelle???  Are you serious?

Oh, tonight even... Mr. Buffie took Josie to a local car show to see if any of our friends would be interested in buying her (a few are so I think she will go to a good home).  And he came back and said some fellow walked up and asked him "what year is your Chevelle?"

At a car show.

A CAR SHOW!!!!

Normally, the "nice Chevelle" comments happen at the bank or the gas station where random vehicularly-challenged people are.  You don't expect those people to be at a car show.

Moses.

Have I mentioned how glad I am that Friday is over.  My Friday sucked so bad.  Ugh.  Thursday was pretty awesome.  Had a delicious Thai dinner with a good friend I haven't seen in almost a year.  Love her ten tons and we laughed so hard all night I went home sore.

Friday on the other hand, blah.  Started off wonky because I have damaged yet another toe.  In the middle of the night, as usual, get up to go pee and tripped over the ottoman at the foot of my bed.

The next morning, Mr. Buffie - ever the nurturer (not) - says "I read a statistic a couple years ago that most home injuries happen because of furniture at the base of the bed and that it's the worst place to put furniture..."  Oh.  Nice.  Thanks.  So helpful.  That ottoman has been there for 8 or 9 years and he's telling me this just now.  MEN!

So I limped around all day at the office.  My toe is purple and puffed up and it still hurts but it's getting better.  

The day was busy which usually doesn't bother me, but I had constant interruptions which really makes me crazy in my head.  I felt like I couldn't get any one thing accomplished and having 14 half-finished projects going on all day made me feel like the wheels were spinning but I wasn't getting anywhere.  Even stayed at work until almost 7 p.m. and took paperwork home just trying to wrap up the last of the tasks because who wants to walk in on Monday to a bunch of shit waiting for you?  Not me.

Worst part of Friday?  Someone tried to tell me they knew me better than I know myself.  Locked my gears clean up.  Kinda hurt, if I'm being honest.  Over it now, but at the time it was like - ouch, that came outta nowhere.

Bygones!  It's Saturday and life is goooood.  I have a nice Chevelle (ha), kitty cats, Mr. Buffie, delicious tacos for lunch-slash-dinner (I ate at 4, what do you call a meal at that hour when you're under the age of 63?).

I just did Versa Spa at the tanning salon.  It's the kickass spray tan shit that moisturizes you, bronzes you, then blows you dry!  WIN!

Bleached my teeth, painted my toenails, did several mundane domestic things, took some pills for my ouchie toe and now I'm looking forward to tomorrow because I am going to go get my nails done, maybe touch up my hair, brush the cats, work on my website and place a Mary Kay order.  Yay fun!  Don't I sound super exciting???  -poke poke-  WAKE UP, hellllooooooo...

Don'tcha wish yer Chevelle was hot like mine?