"It's like a tsunami of fat!"

This article says that the average American eats 4500 calories on Thanksgiving. That is truly appalling. I'm going to aim for 2000. Ok, maybe 2500.

It's probably safe to say that if the person searching for me is the poor man's J. Love Hewitt wearing a half-assed witch's costume 2 weeks after Halloween, then I probably don't want to know.

My car has been the source of a slew of drama over the last couple of months. First, I took it in for a 65k tune-up and they discovered all kinds of problems. The shop replaced three cracked belts and fixed the leaking master cylinder. Mark then took care of replacing the front brakes and swapping in a new valve cover gasket. Finally, I spent 3 hours at Costco one night while the tires were changed. Then back to the shop for an alignment. All of this added up, but had to be done.

Not long after all this work was done, one of the belts that were replaced started making a god awful screeching noise. It only did it occasionally, so I didn’t get it fixed right away because it’s so inconvenient to go the shop. But after a harrowing hour and a half drive home on 99 from Edmonds one day, where the screeching noise became non-stop and I feared that the car would break down, I took the car back to the shop. They fixed the belt and I asked them to look at the wipers that wouldn’t turn off. They said they could fix it but needed to order the part. I took the car home and brought it back again when the part came in. From there, a week long odyssey with the wipers commenced. Wrong parts were received and the issue was not what they thought it was. So on and so forth, they finally got it to a point where the intermittent wipers wouldn’t work, but the medium speed worked fine. I took what I could get only to discover after I picked it up that the stereo no longer worked. Back again to the shop where they said it would take 20 minutes to fix and I waited for over an hour, the stereo worked again. Later that night, I realized that the dash/speedometer light no longer works. That discovery almost ended in tears – I’m so frustrated and I resent having to go back to the shop for what must be the freakin’ 10^th time. I still need to take it in and get this fixed.

So this morning, when I looked out the window and saw that someone had rammed into the rear end of my car and left a huge dent and no note, it seemed like the punch line to a really long joke - especially since it was the first day I parked on our block (I usually park a block away in the summer due to tree sap and birds). WTF?! I totally want to hang up posters in the neighborhood that say – “To the person who hit my car and left a huge fucking dent and no note, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, I fucking hate you. You’re an asshole.” But that would accomplish nothing. The dent is about a foot and a half around and I’m guessing it would probably cost at least 500 bucks to fix. I guess I’ll just leave it as is.