Friday, April 09, 2010

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

If there is one thing I really dislike it is the "joys" of cars. And by joys I mean maintenance. I think the reason I dislike it so much is that I know absolutely nothing about it and feel like I am always taken for a ride, even when it comes to getting my car washed. Yes, I know how ridiculous this is, but give me a shower drain to unclog any day over dealing with my car.

Wednesday I noticed a front headlight was out. Awesome. I still haven't fixed it yet. This week has been pretty trying and when I got in my car yesterday to drive home, the tears just came. The last thing I wanted to deal with was getting a new headlight. So, I call my mom and complain to her. I tell her I wish I had a boy to do this stuff for me. Her response, "Most boys won't be able to change the headlight either." It made me laugh. She also suggested I call up the guy from the Honda dealership who I had told her about last week when I took my Dad's car for an oil change. This guy was pretty friendly. I have never had a service associate give me an update on an oil change while I was waiting in the waiting room or walk me to the cashier, stand there and wait for me to pay, and walk me to my car. I think I would feel like I would be taking advantage of him if I called him up about this light problem.

I called and complained to my dad too. He said to go to the auto parts store and buy a light bulb and do it myself. And the thought of this makes me want to throw up. He said there might even be some guy there who would help me install it. And instantly I remembered when I bought new windshield wipers a few years ago. I went to an auto parts store. A lady helped me pick out the right ones. Then I asked the lady how to install them. You know what she did? She installed them for me and I felt like a giant loser.

At some point this weekend I will go to an auto part store and buy a light bulb. If I am unable to install it myself I will just keep it in my car until I can find someone who can help me. And if I get pulled over? I will ask the cop for help.

P.S. My preferred method of transportation would be planes and trains. If only I lived in a city AND country where this was a more viable option.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

Europe (The Netherlands, Antwerp, and London)

Well I have been home for just about a month now and the post vacation depression has subsided. I failed miserably about updating my previous Europe trip last summer. So I am going to attempt to be a little bit better about this trip.

The flight
Did you know there is only one international flight that leaves from Memphis? And where does it go? AMSTERDAM! Just my luck! I have always had visions of meeting a future boyfriend/husband/anything that last longer than the journey on a flight. And of course this was still the case. Who do I end up sitting next to? An overweight middle age Dutch woman who had spent a month sunning herself in Florida. Score! Not. She was quite nice, but I quickly realized my Dutch was non-existent and her English was better than my Dutch, but after the plane took off the initial pleasantries would be the extent of any sort of relationship. Maybe next time?
The actual flight itself wasn’t that bad. I made sure I went to yoga and went on a nice little 5 mile run before I left. I also drank lots and lots of water. You see, ever since my 17+ hour flight home from South Africa a few years ago my ankles swell into ginormous cankles. Not cute. So, gone are the day of windows seats and hello to aisle seats and drinking obscene amounts of water which essentially forces me out of my seat to use the bathroom and thus circulating my blood. I watched Up during dinner and was almost on the verge of tears. Dinner ended and I soon took my two Benadryl and pulled out my thermarest neck pillow. Sleepy time! Before I knew it, I was at Schiphol International Airport where Esther and her darling boy Yannick were waiting for me.

Of course there were hugs and maybe even a loud squeal or two. I finally got to meet Yannick who also happens to be in my favorite age range (2-7) and we were off to Esther’s place.

After getting settled in, I had the option of taking a nap or going to the beach with her and Yannick. In my mind I was thinking “The beach?!? It kind of cold out AND raining.” I determined I couldn’t pass it up so off we went. It was cold and it drizzled. But that didn’t stop us from playing in the sand. We warmed up with a nice little drink and poffertjes (only one of my favorite Dutch delicacies). Esther said they weren’t the best, I didn’t notice a problem and had no problem scarfing them down. Clearly, I need to eat more!

I should also mention that my feet were seriously unprepared for the weather I would be facing for the next week in Europe. I think I wore socks to the beach with my converse slipons, but if I had a brain I should have packed some boots.

The beach in Den Haag


My three year old crush at the beach with his rain coat on


Up next? Antwerpian Adventues. Car issues. London London.