Wednesday, Jul. 17, 2002 / 7:35 p.m.

~YOUR CAR IS ON FIRE!!!!~

It was One Million Six Hundred Thousand Degrees outside today. No lie.

In my car, no a/c, it was Two Million, exactly. And I decided to wear a bra today. One of those cotton sports bra kind of things, one piece kind of things, normally quite comfy, as far as brassieres go, but usually I don't wear any mammary gland support of any sort, I have wee tiny bosoms and they are old and saggy. Nice, huh? So, why bother? Who the fuck cares?

Ah, the joys of being a woman. See, here's how it is. You got these hormones, see? And they cause wacky physical and emotional things to happen within, see?

(Oh, oh, oh, interruption due to email notification from the new and improved 2002a, or whatever, ICQ, and with this new ICQ one can see the email without downloading it from the Server!!!! Anyway, I got this nasty message from this chick on the Moby boards, the chick who called me 'hun', so I called her 'hun' and she typed in all caps asking me what the hell, so I told her to chill out and said let's dance and put a smiley thingie, they love the smiley thingies on message boards, and she just wrote back saying sure, let's dance, with a winky smiley.)

Right, so bottom line is (I always think of Ray Walston, "My Favorite Martian" his ownself, saying "Bottom line it for me" on that commercial a few years ago, as if it's a verb....), my breasts swell before my period and I wanted them to be held up and away from my body today, and I was wearing a scratchy shirt and didn't want chafing, etc., etc., and etc., ad infinitum.

May it suffice to say, and in conclusion, and summarily, and in summation, I was hot as a mo' fo' when I was sitting in line at the fucking drive thru at the Chick Fucking Fil A waiting to get my stupid salad and large lemonade, and the dude put the straw in the bag instead of handing it to me with the lemonade and I was sitting there suffering, thinking about what the actual temperature inside my car must be, probably really only 130 degrees or so, and I really wanted to be sipping on that lemonade whilst waiting for him to pull the fucking pre-made salad from the fridge, but he says the straw is 'somewhere in the bag'.

Ugh.

Aarrrrrrgggghhhhh.

Blech.

Oy vey.

Oh la la la la la la la la la!!! Uffff!

I came home soaking wet, but only changed clothes. Bathing must wait. This is prime diary reading time, prime message board reading time, prime Interweb time, in general. I'm telling you, if I was like the rest of the world, I'd be online all day at work and when I come home I'd have it all out of my system. But no.

Is this where I bitch about my job? Hell no. I brought fresh batteries back to work after lunch, I listened to Van Morrison and read the free weekly.... ahhhhh.... free weekly day. I LOVE reading that thing. One day, you mark my words, they will hire me. I will write for them, or edit, or proofread, or whatever. Maybe I'll simply clean their toilets. They have toilets, yes?

Yeah, I read and listened to music. And answered the phone if it rang. And tried not to listen to Lulu, et al. Laverne is having a brunch for the team, at her home, and she put an invitation on my desk, I am sure because she basically had to. Or it would've looked very bad. We are so few. How many? Well, let's see now.... (in line at the drive thru - I know, I know, I should've gone inside! Drive thrus are poison on our environment!!! - I could almost instantly calculate that change from a $20 for $5.44 would be $14.56, but now I must count on my fingers the number in my department) we are nine including D., the Supervisor, excluding the Manager (M).

Hell no I won't go, are you fucking kidding me?!

The word for this entry is FUCK. Say the magic word and win $100. Do they still show "You Bet Your Life" somewhere on cable?? That's the name of it, right? Groucho Marx' gameshow?

What was my point?

Oh, sure, so on my way back to work from lunch I was getting on the highway, the freeway, the autobahn, and I saw smoke coming from one of the cars in the second lane from the left. At that portion of the highway there are 7 lanes I think, and that's just going North. One side of the highway. Everyone behind this car was braking, changing lanes, pulling into the left lane, and I was confused, yet I had merging to do, so I was turning to look, accelerating, all sorts of things of my own doing, yet as I got closer I could see that the car was not only smoking, it was on FIRE! Oh yeah.

This person was driving along with her hazard lights blinking, slowing down, but still in that lane, not pulling over, and everyone around was freaking out, seriously, slowing down, changing lanes, etc., so I kept going, places to be and all that, and as I passed her, the HOT driver, I looked to see it was a woman, we won't mention her race, color, creed, nor national origin, just that she was a she, and her windows were rolled down, she was alone in the car, and she was talking - I can only imagine what she was saying......

"What do I do? What should I do? What does that red light mean? Why is there smoke behind the car? It sure is hot outside today, but why are my shoes melting? Gee, should I pull over? What's that person yelling at me? Why is everyone getting out of my way like that?"

So I pass her and honk my horn, I can see the flames under her front axle. Oh yeah, no exaggeration, 'no lie', as I am fond of saying, FLAMES, bright orange and white, lots of them, under her car, FLAMES. I honk and yell as loud as I can, "YOUR CAR IS ON FIRE!!!!", really just curious as all get out as to why she has not pulled over to the emergency lane...

And in my rearview mirror I see she is doing just that. She finally got the message. And there is a cop writing someone a speeding ticket only yards up in the emergency lane. And an SUV veers all the way across the now 5 lanes of traffic to confront the kindly officer, to say, "HEY, THAT LADY'S CAR IS ON FARRRR!".

You're right, I'm guessing. Maybe he was from up North. I'm stereotyping. He probably said, "Excuse me, Offisuh, the lady's cah is on fyuh!"

Alas. I thought of doing that same thing. Telling the cop. But you see, everyone saw what happened. It was lunchtime, on one of the most highly traveled Interstates in the Country, major traffic at almost all hours. And as I drove I saw yet another cop writing yet another speeding ticket, and I thought, Hey, she couldn't have picked a better place to catch on fire.

It was crazy though. I've never seen anything like it. And of course I thought a lot about what MIGHT have happened. Picture a freshly filled gas tank. Picture an explosion, with debris and bones and blood everywhere. Picture cars unable to stop in time, a pileup of sorts, more crashing of metal, bodies mangled, smoke, flames, a big huge mess.

And I would've been late clocking back in at work!

I'm laughing. If this were a chat room I'd be typing LOL.

But it's not.

Why am I so silly today?

D., the Supervisor, engaged me in conversation at the end of the day. We were by the copier. I made copies, she made copies (don't you always think of that guy on "SNL", wasn't it Rob Schneider?, saying, "Makin' copiiiiieeesssss!"?), and she asked me about the Film Festival. Gee, is this a case of better late than never? That was a while ago, but she remembered, and I don't talk to anyone anymore, so I guess she decided to talk to me. It was weird, at first, but once I started, sure, I wanted to talk to her. I used to like her a lot. We have some mutual interests.

We talked for about 20 minutes, there, by the copier, and she made copies as she talked. I said, since she is my Supervisor and I am terribly aware of her supposed 'authority', "I guess I should get back to my cubicle...", and she said, "If you want", so I said, "Oh, okay, I'll just sit here", and I hopped up on the table next to the copier.

I told her she simply HAS to watch "Big Brother 3", told her about the twist in the game, etc. - used to be I'd pull the updates off the web site, and print them out for us to read at work....used to be.

And she asked me questions, like what good indy films are out now, and I told her she simply MUST (am I demanding or what?!) watch Sundance Channel, and she said she doesn't have it, but she has the exact same digital cable package I have. I'm happy to turn her on to that.

And she made a recipe from the calendar I gave her for her birthday last November.

It was like my old bud was back, the one I knew before she was our Supervisor, when she was a rep like me. "A Rep Like Me"..... I can see a book, a coming of age story, a memoir of a Customer Service Rep. Kelly Rippa can take it and run with it! Book Club selection all over!!!

Okay, I'm running out of steam. I've felt physically crappy all day, really logy, enervated (my two favorite words) and feverish. All day, too hot. And now I'm doing laundry because there is one more Business Casual day before I can relax at work. Must have clean clothes.

I was thinking of that stupid song, "Everybody's working for the weekend!", and I thought, Egad, that's me. How depressing. That's BEEN me, for years now. I really thought our pool at work would've won the Lottery last night. When I went in this morning I asked Penelope if we'd won, and she said she'd assumed no. Assumed? Wait, maybe we DID! Someone did, and it was like $165 million! But I guess she was right.

Fucking Lottery.

Fucking heat. At least it's pretty outside. The sky's been blue, the clouds have been white, the trees have been green, for the most part, some are brown and dying.

I have laundry to take care of. And "Big Brother" is on - oh, Caroline, I'll get to those links soon!!! Promise.

Oh, oh, one more thing, really, I started on my Favourite Entries (don't you love that Andrew spelled it in the English way?) page last night. I've only got three listed, but I'll add more soon, and a permanent link on my page too. I know people are freaking out with their stats though, because I have to search through entries to find what I'm looking for. JimmyUsual has one I want to list, but I searched last night and couldn't find it...... perhaps an email is in order.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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