Story of Our Lives

Happy Day

Jiffy?... I think not!

Just the other day.. April 15th (the tax day deadline to be in fact) My mother and myself took my car to the jiffy lube.  Unfortunately my oil was leaking and I needed to fix it.  So my mother and myself drove my car to the jiffy lube and explained to the young smoker (not smoker as in attractive, smoker as in a chimney) the issue with my car.  He told me that he would take a look at my car and try to fix the problem.  So another man does a miss america wave to wave me forward into the garage part of the jiffy lube.  They pop open my hood and start yelling random numbers and put a vacuum in my hood and doing a lot of things i cant put on the www.  30 minutes later a man comes and told me that the last time my oil had been changed they put something in crooked.  So he said it would just take a few minutes and it would be fixed.  Well meanwhile.. my mom is literally going loony in the seat next to me.  She begins singing songs that I dont even understand.  She starts txting me even though i am sitting right next to her.  The exact txt read "Hey ho"  I do not find this kind of talk appropriate.  Then she sent me a picture of these little kids' butts, i wish i could explain but i have nothing.  It was frightening. This is where it gets tricky.. they shut the doors in front of us.. no one is around.. we are all by ourselves.  No one is helping us or working on my car.  WE WERE BEING HELD HOSTAGE IN THE DAN JIFFY LUBE.  Picture my mother singing and shouting explicits in a very tiny space.  To the right you will see this is my mother and myself sitting in the jiffy lube crying because we are stuck!! Well my brother calls and my mom his hysterical and shouts into the phone "i'm stuck in the jiffy lube and we wanna go home, we are hungry (i don't know the importance of the hungry part but she said it)"  So the next thing we know Reagan is at the jiffy lube and is yelling and raising all sorts of cain (hope that is the right phrase).  He is like you better give full compensation and this is racial inequality and stuff.. ok so i made that part up..  but seriously we were like where the heck did he come from.  But alas.. he got us out of the jiffy lube after we were there for 2 hours! and we didn't pay a cent.  I got new oil and they fixed the part in my car and i paid nothing!  What an experience.  The moral of this story is.. my mom gets loony in confined spaces and my brother can get things for free.  

One time i went to a photo seminar at SLCC and i forgot to check where it was being held so i just guessed. In the end i was just running around sweating nevous buckets of sweat and tring to keep myself from just going home. In the end i stayed in the bathroom until i heard people outside, right when i went out i saw my friends and was totally relieved. They all teased me for hiding in the bathroom for the first part of the seminar but it ended up being great. That was when i fell in love with a large format camera! I will get one one day, even if poleriod is out of buisiness! The end of my random memory.

This weather is already getting me down. I haven't had a sunny birthday forever.

Okay

I especially love the flavor of a young handicapped child

What Color Are You?

White:  The peacemaker.  You choose to park far away from others, pulling all the way through to avoid backing out.  Cars clustered together give you anxiety, so you would rather park in an entirely different parking area than search for a spot.  If there is one available spot, and you see another car coming toward it, you would rather give up than deal with potential controversy.  Your dream is to one day never need to leave your house.

Red:  Parking stalls are a status symbol.  You will pay extra money for better parking.  You are a stall-hunter, waiting behind a potential opening, and marking your prey by using your blinker.  You strive for employee of the month just for the parking spot.  Your dream is to one day be successful enough to have your own reserved parking stall.

Yellow:  Parking stall lines are merely suggestions to you.  You often find yourself taking up multiple stalls, but only because you are unaccustomed to rigidity and find that the lines restrict your parking creativity.  Your signature move is to park 5 feet in front of the door with your hazards on, as an act of courtesy toward those maneuvering around you.  Your dream is to one day be able to park inside buildings.

Blue:  Parking is relative.  Whether there be 8 stalls, or 1000 stalls, your mood of the day is dependent on where, in relation to others, you parked.  You feel it a personal offense when others park closer to the building than you.  You arrive to work early, sometimes hours early, just to score the best spot.  You will sometimes move your car closer during lunch hour, and it will be the highlight of your day.  Your dream is to one day park in a parking lot in which every stall is equidistant from the entrance.

I am most definately white!!!