Randomness | Errands and Choreography
Hey! How goes it? Things are happening over here with 9 days and counting until my first skating competition in 18 years, and some big writing deadlines looming overhead. It's pretty much all that's going on in my life these days... skate, write, eat, repeat...
Because I'm burning the candles at both ends, my weekends are pretty lame and about resting. I literally get one day every two weeks to run errands because of my travel schedule so that's what I did. Sorry, no twee pics of me pigeon toed in front of a fountain, I have to live like the rest of the peasants of the world since my dogs make TERRIBLE errand girls.
One of those things I had to do was get my oil changed. I freaking hate getting my oil changed for no good reason other than it's one of those highly annoying tasks I like to classify as 'man's work' like taking out the garbage and cutting the grass. I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself, but if I don't have to, I won't.
Well... this time I had to... I'll leave out the part of the story where a man wakes up with a sore throat sure the grim reaper is on his doorstep, ready to knock, so he must take to his bed until this passes...
So off to the oil change place I went and was greeted by a cheerful young man beaming with enthusiasm as he asked me, "What kind of oil today, ma'am?"
The hell if I know. The kind of oil you put in a car? See, this is why oil changes annoy me. I have too many things on my hard drive inside my skull to remember things like what kind of oil my car takes. Isn't that stored on an actual computer somewhere?
Yes, yes it is. Punch in the VIN and go with that, Sparky. This is man's work and I'm simply subbing in today.
Off to the waiting room I go to terrorize people on Twitter while I wait, and then Sparky (that's his name now) walks in with my dipstick to show me highly scientific things that will require $11 goo to resolve.
Um...I guess? MAN'S WORK. CALL AN AUDIBLE, SHOOT THE J, BUNT, I have no idea what I'm looking at but sure, $11...viscosity...engine optimization... fine.
Back to my seat I go after approving this necessary thing for my car, and to my left I notice an older gentleman writing upside down in a steno notebook full of post-it notes.
Oh great. Serial killer. This is where I die.
Lucky for me, his car was done before mine, so he had to find another victim.
When my car was done, Sparky came into the waiting room with a couple of the garage boyeeez and was like, "So your car is done ma'am! Nice car, by the way. What made you go with a stick shift?"
The jokes... they write themselves.
But since I was humbled by the serial killer and his notebook, I was jovial and said that I always drove a stick if possible since my first car in 1995.
Crickets chirped as they did the math...
"Oh no way! There's no way you're THAT OLD!"
Yep, Sparky, almost 40. Near death. A dried out old husk.
I showed him my Drivers License.
"Nah, I still don't believe it. But the red hair suits you way better than the blonde."
Ugggghhhhhhhh. Now I'm hoping the serial killer forgot something and returns to put me out of my misery.
Well, now my oil is changed... now it's time to shove the proverbial bamboo shoots up my fingernails and head to Walmart.
Have I ever told you guys my Walmart mani/pedi hack for those of us poverty stricken or cheap?
Get your nails done at a Walmart nail salon.
Stop cringing... here's why:
Because Walmart doesn't want any liability issues, EVERY tech has to be licensed with their license displayed. In private shops, you can have a bajillion 'apprentices' working under one license, but in Walmart, errrrrrybody has to be street legal.
Best. Manis. Ever.
Well, naturally, whenever you go into a Walmart, you always get a 'People of Walmart' experience ESPECIALLY in the nail salon. This week's episode of, "$15 Entertainment" brings us a tale of two moms. One to the left of me, one to the right. The mom to the left of me was loud and proud about the fact her three children were in daycare and she was sitting there getting her nails done while her new bae looked on. And by 'looked on' I mean sitting right next to her on one of those itty bitty pedicure stools.
EW. I will never understand a man watching a woman get a mani/pedi. It's creepy and weird. This should be a woman's moment to escape men. This is the Red Tent of the modern day. No men needed or necessary.
Anyway, no shame in this mom's game. I'm not judging at all. There were times I had my kids in daycare and had 'me' time. Not with my creepy main squeeze, but whatever. Getchu some, girl.
The other mother to the right of me was of a different philosophy. She had both her infant and toddler with her while she got her nails done, and the toddler was doing all of the toddler things, and this mother without flinching said, "Fernanda! I will kill your dog when we get home if you don't get back here!"
Wait... what? Did I hear that right? I speak pretty decent Spanish... I had to have heard that wrong.
She wound up saying 30 more times for the duration of my manicure, "Fernanda! I will kill your dog when we get home if you don't get back here!"
I'm really hoping it's an idiom that doesn't actually mean dog murder, but that's pretty damn savage. That kid did come back each and every time, so I hope the dog is okay.
So those were the highlights of my weekend. Everything else was work. Hi, I'm boring and lame like 99% of the population.
Today, Lucito and I worked on the finishing touches of my choreography, and it was grueling work, but I was rewarded with nachos, so it was worth it. I know I'm being vague about a lot of this skating stuff here on the blog, but that's by design because it's attached to another project that you'll get to see after my first competition.
As of today, I've been back on skates for 6 months after being away for 18 years. It's been one of the most emotionally and physically hard things I've ever had to do, but the bright side has been collaborating with my favorite people and making some really cool things happen. I am so very lucky and grateful, even though I'm pretty sure I'm fused to my couch at this point and I will curse my best friend's name for putting me through my paces like a Soviet all afternoon.
Well, that's what's going on around these parts. I'm going to be totes aspirational and eat a piece of poundcake with some herbal tea and watch trash TV tonight with heating pads all over my body so I can do all of this again tomorrow.