OK, so I've been told that I'm being lax in reporting my various adventures in spinstering. Well, the truth is, there haven't been much in the way of adventures, spinstering or otherwise. But here goes nothing . . .
Next week I travel to the far off land of ACTF to present a workshop on drawing the figure. I'm very excited. To be honest, I've always wanted to teach a basic drawing class. So, this will be a treat for me, though I'm very nervous about it all.
The Spinstermobile, which I fondly refer to as my Love Machine, is up and running again. The saga of the neverending car trouble (ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahh) began the morning after I got back to MA from my winter sojourn west. After putting 3000 miles on the Love Machine in less than three weeks, I got up that morning to find my tire was going flat. Really, I was just overjoyed it didn't happen somewhere in the boonies of I-90 with the little black dog in the front seat. That would have sucked. So, the tire being not completely flat, I crossed my fingers and drove it very slowly to a discount tire place in town, where I was promptly told (and shown) that my tires were all crap and needed desperately to be replaced.
Of course.
So, after negotiating over new tires, I sit myself down in the waiting area, thinking all the while about a meeting I had that afternoon and having no idea if I'll be able to make it now (not to mention how I was also lamenting the fact that I couldn't even get back into the state without voicemail from work on my damn cell phone).
I was lost in this quandry when the tire guy came back to the waiting area and said these ill-fated words; "We have a problem." He's holding my rim in his hands and he takes a seat next to me, explaining how the rim is cracked and that's why my tire originally went flat. Well, they're just a tire place, and they can't fix cracked rims, but he knows of a guy who can weld it (which will cost about 1/4 the amount it would if I were to get a new rim). So, he puts the spare on my car and I take the cracked rim and new tire to this place out of town to get welded.
Three days later, I pick up the now fixed rim, with the tire on it, they put the whole shebang on my car and I drive directly to the discount tire place to get the wheels aligned. I'm waiting in their tire rubber-smelling waiting area and the tire guy (a different one) comes back, with those same ill-fated words on his lips. "We have a problem."
Yes, of course we do. My life wouldn't be complete if we didn't.
It turns out there's some play in my right inner tie rod. I know nothing of cars. I don't speak his crazy moon language. But I know enough to be afraid of the phrase "throw a rod" and to know that this mysterious new ailment needs to be fixed. What's more, at this point the discount tire place is not making any more money off me coming in to get the wheels aligned, so it's not like they're trying to pull one over on me. So, I have to get the car checked out again, this time by a mechanic in town. I do. I needed a new right inner tie rod. Wow! does the Love Machine handle better now with new tires and a new right inner tie rod. Go figure.
So, with trepidation, I go back to the discount tire place to get the wheels aligned and wait for those ill-fated words. And wait. And wait. And . . . the guy comes back, happy as a lark (well, not really, but who cares), and says they're all done, hands me my keys and sends me on my merry way. Thank you Jeebus!
This would just about cover the latest in spinstering adventures, the trials and tribulations of a spinster navigating the pitfalls of day-to-day existence--usually rather poorly, regardless of new tires and new right inner tie rods--and trying to maintain some sense of balance. Stay tuned and maybe I'll post something again in the next decade . . .
