So, I am sure that the best way to start driving a new car is to start off on a 1,500 km trip three days after you've bought it. I would recommend it to anyone! Just a few pointers though...
1. You should probably read your manual and be sure you know how to do all the things you will need to do, like turn on the windshield wipers, or the high beams, before you are trying to figure this out while going 110k/h on windy roads.
2. Figure out if everything works properly. Finding out how to work the windshield washer fluid sprayers at 100k/h is exciting, but it would be more of a triumph if the fluid actually hit the driver's side of the windshield. And even better if you had tried this when the first or second bug hit, and not after the 300th when you really can't see much.
3. Remember that you are now the sole owner/driver for the car and are therefore responsible for all its fueling needs. This is the most important point. A 1,500 km trip through Northern Ontario is not the time to play free and easy with the gas gauge =cough, cough=
So, here are a few fueling related stories from my trip to the TBay (which I made it to safely yesterday evening):
- The Fuel Door:
First time I stop for gas, press the fuel door opener and walk around the car to discover the door still closed. Repeat 4 times. Try to stick fingers in to pry it open. Try to stick keys in to pry it open. Nothing. Figure, well I should have enough to make it to my cousin's house, I was just stopping to fill up at a good price. Keep driving. Make it to cousin's house and then have a good look at the problem. The fuel door was wedged up under the opening in the side panel. I pushed it down until there was room for a key to go in then pried it open the rest of the way and bent the hinge so it would open again. Has been working fine since! You can stop cringing now!
- Parry Sound to Wawa:
Now, I had been planning on stopping for the night in Sault Ste Marie, but when I got there, it was only 3pm, and I knew it was only about 3 more hours to Wawa, so why stop now? On my way out the other side of town, I vaguely thought, maybe I should get gas? But I had just one tick less than half a tank, and that had gotten me this far, and I didn't have the same distance to go, so I should be fine. Let it be known, ALWAYS GET GAS IN SAULT STE MARIE!!!! There is a Provincial Park between the Sault and Wawa, and therefore no gas stations. While discovering how your car warns you about low fuel is kind of neat, it is not so cool when you are passing a sign that says "Wawa 40 kms". So, do you want to know how far my new car can go on 1 tank of gas at approx 100k/h? Googlemaps tells me it was 686kms, the last 15-10kms I am sure was just on fumes.
-Husky Gas Stations:
Today, I headed out to another cousin's camp about an hour away and realized I would need gas in order to get back home again (see, I am learning fuel forethought!). So I stopped in the village near their camp for gas at the Husky station. Forgive my ignorance, for we have no Husky stations in my part of Ontario, but apparently, they are sneaky buggers and I will not go there again unless absolutely forced. There was one price for "Regular" gas on the sign, but when I got to the pump, I discovered there was actually only one choice for gas, "Premium". They didn't even have buttons for the other grades on their pumps! So when I thought I was going to pay "140.1", I was actually paying "149.9!!!!!!" I only got $35 worth which brought me back up to half a tank.
So, see? I am learning my fuel savvy! Slowly but surely. Nothing like jumping in at the deep end of car ownership!
Monday, May 21, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Journey North
Though I would dust off the ol' blog because .... dudes!!!! Guess what? I am totally a grown-up now! (Can't you tell? ;P)
That is right! C and the Baz are starting a brand new adventure!
In The North this time.
With a real full-time permanent job for me, and no more early morning bananas for the Baz (ha ha).
The interview and job offer and need to start soon have all happened so fast that I haven't had time to really think about it, which is good, because I am moving to a new city where I barely know anyone and it takes two days to drive back to my parent's house!
Here is what has happened since my last contract ended on April 30
-May 1st fly up to The North for interview and tour of city with new boss
-May 2nd interview, then fly home
-May 4th fly to Victoria
-May 5th H&C get hitched! Yay!
-May 8th find out I have job. While riding on the city bus in Victoria.
-May 9th fly home
-May 11th test drive cars
-May 14th buy first car ever!!!!!!!! 2010 Nissan Sentra, very cool.
-May 17th pack up car and start driving North.
I am stopping to visit family and friends along to way and should arrive in The North by Sunday night.
Then I start work on Tuesday morning. Gah!
The Baz did not come with me on this trip because there was no room for her in the car (let me tell you, it is very full!), and I have to look for an apartment when I get up there and she isn't allowed to stay with me in the motel. She will enjoy her last month as the only "kid" at home with my parents, getting her early morning bananas (eww! so gross!) and evening cuddles until Ma and Pa bring her up when they visit in July.
So I will be all alone for the next two legs of my journey to The North.
Another 15 hours of driving left, in a new car, when I have only ever driven a max of 4 hours in a stretch.
Nothing could possibly go wrong!
That is right! C and the Baz are starting a brand new adventure!
In The North this time.
With a real full-time permanent job for me, and no more early morning bananas for the Baz (ha ha).
The interview and job offer and need to start soon have all happened so fast that I haven't had time to really think about it, which is good, because I am moving to a new city where I barely know anyone and it takes two days to drive back to my parent's house!
Here is what has happened since my last contract ended on April 30
-May 1st fly up to The North for interview and tour of city with new boss
-May 2nd interview, then fly home
-May 4th fly to Victoria
-May 5th H&C get hitched! Yay!
-May 8th find out I have job. While riding on the city bus in Victoria.
-May 9th fly home
-May 11th test drive cars
-May 14th buy first car ever!!!!!!!! 2010 Nissan Sentra, very cool.
-May 17th pack up car and start driving North.
I am stopping to visit family and friends along to way and should arrive in The North by Sunday night.
Then I start work on Tuesday morning. Gah!
The Baz did not come with me on this trip because there was no room for her in the car (let me tell you, it is very full!), and I have to look for an apartment when I get up there and she isn't allowed to stay with me in the motel. She will enjoy her last month as the only "kid" at home with my parents, getting her early morning bananas (eww! so gross!) and evening cuddles until Ma and Pa bring her up when they visit in July.
So I will be all alone for the next two legs of my journey to The North.
Another 15 hours of driving left, in a new car, when I have only ever driven a max of 4 hours in a stretch.
Nothing could possibly go wrong!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
This morning
This morning I checked my emails and webcomics with a baby wrapped around my leg.
This warm, beautiful, chubby munchkin had rolled over in his sleep when I took over his mama's place on the couch while she had her shower, and had flopped his leg over my thigh and curled right in.
We stayed like that for more than an hour, sitting peacefully, he, snoring and snuffling, me, stroking his fuzzy wee head while I surfed the net and then the new IKEA catalogue. It was such a lovely, soothing feeling, this enforced quiet contemplation.
Unfortunately, it couldn't last. I had to pee, and monsieur burped and decided another bottle was in order. I mean, it had been an hour since the last one, was I trying to starve him?
But once that bottle was done, we went right back to our snuggle, him sleeping in my arms this time, and me just contemplating the wonderful little being lying across my belly, marveling at the glorious rolls and creases and chubby cheeks that have come about so recently, and wondering what the future holds for this fabulous little godson of mine. thankful that I am close enough and have the time now to see him so often and help his mama out as much as I can, wishing I could do more. thankful for the glimpses of what the future holds for me and my yet unknown babies. thankful that his mama and I found our way, finally, to being such good friends. thankful I came home to them yesterday to celebrate getting my first real job with baby cuddles and cooking.
Thankful his mama came home this morning before that diaper change.
Thankful that I was the one she called when he finally rolled over all on his own after I had left this afternoon.
This warm, beautiful, chubby munchkin had rolled over in his sleep when I took over his mama's place on the couch while she had her shower, and had flopped his leg over my thigh and curled right in.
We stayed like that for more than an hour, sitting peacefully, he, snoring and snuffling, me, stroking his fuzzy wee head while I surfed the net and then the new IKEA catalogue. It was such a lovely, soothing feeling, this enforced quiet contemplation.
Unfortunately, it couldn't last. I had to pee, and monsieur burped and decided another bottle was in order. I mean, it had been an hour since the last one, was I trying to starve him?
But once that bottle was done, we went right back to our snuggle, him sleeping in my arms this time, and me just contemplating the wonderful little being lying across my belly, marveling at the glorious rolls and creases and chubby cheeks that have come about so recently, and wondering what the future holds for this fabulous little godson of mine. thankful that I am close enough and have the time now to see him so often and help his mama out as much as I can, wishing I could do more. thankful for the glimpses of what the future holds for me and my yet unknown babies. thankful that his mama and I found our way, finally, to being such good friends. thankful I came home to them yesterday to celebrate getting my first real job with baby cuddles and cooking.
Thankful his mama came home this morning before that diaper change.
Thankful that I was the one she called when he finally rolled over all on his own after I had left this afternoon.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sucked in
I got sucked into the most terrifying tv show this morning.
So terrifying that I had to change the channel at some parts.
So terrifying that I am pretty sure there is still half a bowl of Life cereal on the bookshelf by the TV.
Apparently terrifying does not go with breakfast.
What show was this you ask?
It was an episode of Dr. Who with David Tennant as the Doctor.
I believe the episode was called "Blink".
I am not an avid watcher of the new Dr. Who series, but I did watch all of the old ones when they were played, often in black and white, on YTV when I was little. My brother and I had definitely perfected saying "Exterminate!" like a Dalek, and I wanted my own K-9. If I do watch the new series, I like David Tennant as the Doctor the best, but I have only seen three or four episodes max. The episodes I have seen still had large elements of cheese to them, especially in set design or monster creation, which allowed you to separate yourself from the story a bit.
This one has stone angel statues that look like any garden statue (except when you finally see their faces, those still have a lot of cheese). Stone angels that move when you aren't looking. This is the stuff of my nightmares!
What is weird is that I thought the show would be scary right from the beginning, the girl jumps a fence and breaks into a scary old house for crying out loud. recipe for scary! And yet I kept watching...
but then I saw that the girl was played by Carey Mulligan, an actress that has been in a lot of things I have wanted to see lately, and then she finds a note of the wall from the Doctor, and I figured, "Oh, its Dr. Who, it won't be too scary...." So I kept watching. And then it got scarier and scarier, but by that time I had to know how it would end.
And the whole time I was thinking, "Oh my god! When did Dr. Who get so scary?!!!"
My mom came home and found me with both feet up on the chair, knees under my chin, with a death grip on the arms of the chair.
In the end, it was a really well done episode, I was really impressed actually...
I just don't know if I will sleep tonight.
So terrifying that I had to change the channel at some parts.
So terrifying that I am pretty sure there is still half a bowl of Life cereal on the bookshelf by the TV.
Apparently terrifying does not go with breakfast.
What show was this you ask?
It was an episode of Dr. Who with David Tennant as the Doctor.
I believe the episode was called "Blink".
I am not an avid watcher of the new Dr. Who series, but I did watch all of the old ones when they were played, often in black and white, on YTV when I was little. My brother and I had definitely perfected saying "Exterminate!" like a Dalek, and I wanted my own K-9. If I do watch the new series, I like David Tennant as the Doctor the best, but I have only seen three or four episodes max. The episodes I have seen still had large elements of cheese to them, especially in set design or monster creation, which allowed you to separate yourself from the story a bit.
This one has stone angel statues that look like any garden statue (except when you finally see their faces, those still have a lot of cheese). Stone angels that move when you aren't looking. This is the stuff of my nightmares!
What is weird is that I thought the show would be scary right from the beginning, the girl jumps a fence and breaks into a scary old house for crying out loud. recipe for scary! And yet I kept watching...
but then I saw that the girl was played by Carey Mulligan, an actress that has been in a lot of things I have wanted to see lately, and then she finds a note of the wall from the Doctor, and I figured, "Oh, its Dr. Who, it won't be too scary...." So I kept watching. And then it got scarier and scarier, but by that time I had to know how it would end.
And the whole time I was thinking, "Oh my god! When did Dr. Who get so scary?!!!"
My mom came home and found me with both feet up on the chair, knees under my chin, with a death grip on the arms of the chair.
In the end, it was a really well done episode, I was really impressed actually...
I just don't know if I will sleep tonight.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Last
I think I am cursed.
I have a habit of only having a romantic encounter* with a guy a few days before I leave a place forever. Which, in my academic career, has been quite a few places.
The first guy was also my first kiss. It was an Indian guy, S, who lived at my student house in London, England. We all went places together, and somehow he usually ended up walking next to me on our way to where we were going. Then the night that my cousin arrived, the night before I left London on a trip with her, we all went out to a club. I really wanted to dance, and no one would dance with me, so I went to get a drink and saw one of the guys suggesting to S that he ask me. So I danced with S, and he kissed me, and then we ended up kissing for the next few hours on the dance floor, and home in the cab, and then when we got to my floor, I chickened out, said "Goodnight!" and ran to my room. I still remember the look of shocked disappointment on his face. Poor guy, I was pleased with how the night had gone! My cousin told me recently that she figured something had happened because I was spacing out on cloud nine for the next few days!
Second guy was in Victoria. He was a friend of one of the girls I worked with and we hung out as a group for most of the summer. One time friends of theirs from home were visiting and they had a tradition of cooking breakfast at someone's house the next morning, so I got invited to K's house. I ended up being the first one there and helped make breakfast. I got some pointed questions of where I had slept the night before from his visiting friends. After most of the people had gone, he and I and one of his friends hung out for most of the afternoon and he introduced me to a whole bunch of new music. I sent him a message on Facebook that night that when he had time, I would love to hang out with him again. A few weeks later we went to see a Rodin exhibit at the art gallery. Which turned into talking for a few hours in the gallery's garden, then dinner, then coffee, then going to see the movie "Once". Then the car mysteriously pointed its way to his house... and I went home the next morning. No sex was had people, I am not that kind of girl. He drove me to the airport a week later and then he drove to Newfoundland to do a masters before I came back to Victoria three weeks later. It might have been, but never got a chance.
The encounters have gotten decidedly less romantic since then.
Third guy was from my first masters that I met again in an elevator in Ottawa on my co-op for this masters. We exchanged emails and I did not hear from him again until the week before I left. He claims he lost my email until then. Anyway, we ended up having a coffee break together at work and had a really great chat. The coffee break was about an hour longer than it should have been! It might have turned into something if we had more time, but I left three days later.
And this brings me to guy #4. Nothing romantic about this one at all. The guy is in two of my classes, and we have not had anything to do with each other until we happened to sit next to each other last week and helped each other with our websites. Our program had a prom last night and he and his friend followed our group to the next club. They were both after a girl in our group. When it became obvious that he was getting nowhere with that girl, he came over to dance with me. We were not so much dancing together as occasionally doing the same stupid moves. I went to sit with the rest of my friends and he came and sat down occasionally, but my friend's boyfriend gave him a look, and he would go off again. Somehow we all ended up leaving together and when I was having trouble walking he swooped in to hold my hand. Then while my friends were ordering sandwiches at Subway, he asked me if it would be appropriate to ask me to go home with him. I said no. He took the next cab out of there. I regretted it a little because I had to hobble back to my friend's hotel room to get my flat shoes with no one to hold onto. I am not sure what is going to happen on Tuesday when I have two classes with him. Hopefully we can go back to politely ignoring each other!
I just don't understand though, is it something about "The End" that makes guys bolder? Or is it something about me that makes guys wait until the very last second? Am I that intimidating?
Once or twice I would be ok with, but four times?!! Geez! Some cruel joke the universe is playing on me! This last one especially, its like the universe suddenly realized I was about to leave here in a week and threw whoever was closest at me without really thinking about it, "Oh sh*t! C's leaving in a week! Uh... he'll do! =toss="
As soon as I am living in some place for longer than 4 months at a time, I am going to say "screw you!" to the universe and do something about this dating thing, but until then, I shake my fist at you universe!
*I wrote "asked out" first and then realized that in most cases I was not formally asked out at all!
I have a habit of only having a romantic encounter* with a guy a few days before I leave a place forever. Which, in my academic career, has been quite a few places.
The first guy was also my first kiss. It was an Indian guy, S, who lived at my student house in London, England. We all went places together, and somehow he usually ended up walking next to me on our way to where we were going. Then the night that my cousin arrived, the night before I left London on a trip with her, we all went out to a club. I really wanted to dance, and no one would dance with me, so I went to get a drink and saw one of the guys suggesting to S that he ask me. So I danced with S, and he kissed me, and then we ended up kissing for the next few hours on the dance floor, and home in the cab, and then when we got to my floor, I chickened out, said "Goodnight!" and ran to my room. I still remember the look of shocked disappointment on his face. Poor guy, I was pleased with how the night had gone! My cousin told me recently that she figured something had happened because I was spacing out on cloud nine for the next few days!
Second guy was in Victoria. He was a friend of one of the girls I worked with and we hung out as a group for most of the summer. One time friends of theirs from home were visiting and they had a tradition of cooking breakfast at someone's house the next morning, so I got invited to K's house. I ended up being the first one there and helped make breakfast. I got some pointed questions of where I had slept the night before from his visiting friends. After most of the people had gone, he and I and one of his friends hung out for most of the afternoon and he introduced me to a whole bunch of new music. I sent him a message on Facebook that night that when he had time, I would love to hang out with him again. A few weeks later we went to see a Rodin exhibit at the art gallery. Which turned into talking for a few hours in the gallery's garden, then dinner, then coffee, then going to see the movie "Once". Then the car mysteriously pointed its way to his house... and I went home the next morning. No sex was had people, I am not that kind of girl. He drove me to the airport a week later and then he drove to Newfoundland to do a masters before I came back to Victoria three weeks later. It might have been, but never got a chance.
The encounters have gotten decidedly less romantic since then.
Third guy was from my first masters that I met again in an elevator in Ottawa on my co-op for this masters. We exchanged emails and I did not hear from him again until the week before I left. He claims he lost my email until then. Anyway, we ended up having a coffee break together at work and had a really great chat. The coffee break was about an hour longer than it should have been! It might have turned into something if we had more time, but I left three days later.
And this brings me to guy #4. Nothing romantic about this one at all. The guy is in two of my classes, and we have not had anything to do with each other until we happened to sit next to each other last week and helped each other with our websites. Our program had a prom last night and he and his friend followed our group to the next club. They were both after a girl in our group. When it became obvious that he was getting nowhere with that girl, he came over to dance with me. We were not so much dancing together as occasionally doing the same stupid moves. I went to sit with the rest of my friends and he came and sat down occasionally, but my friend's boyfriend gave him a look, and he would go off again. Somehow we all ended up leaving together and when I was having trouble walking he swooped in to hold my hand. Then while my friends were ordering sandwiches at Subway, he asked me if it would be appropriate to ask me to go home with him. I said no. He took the next cab out of there. I regretted it a little because I had to hobble back to my friend's hotel room to get my flat shoes with no one to hold onto. I am not sure what is going to happen on Tuesday when I have two classes with him. Hopefully we can go back to politely ignoring each other!
I just don't understand though, is it something about "The End" that makes guys bolder? Or is it something about me that makes guys wait until the very last second? Am I that intimidating?
Once or twice I would be ok with, but four times?!! Geez! Some cruel joke the universe is playing on me! This last one especially, its like the universe suddenly realized I was about to leave here in a week and threw whoever was closest at me without really thinking about it, "Oh sh*t! C's leaving in a week! Uh... he'll do! =toss="
As soon as I am living in some place for longer than 4 months at a time, I am going to say "screw you!" to the universe and do something about this dating thing, but until then, I shake my fist at you universe!
*I wrote "asked out" first and then realized that in most cases I was not formally asked out at all!
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Weird Kid
So, I was a very imaginative child. I would spend hours by myself, telling myself a story. Often these stories got wildly out of hand, and ended in some horrible, macabre, gory way.
Seriously people, I once started singing a version of "On Top of Spaghetti" to myself that somehow ended in the battlefield massacre of millions of puppies!
I have no idea why my imagination was so messed up from such an early age (ahem, watching Star Wars when I was three, ahem), but it was, and it usually ended up with me in tears over the horrors that had befallen my characters, and running to mom, until I realized she just didn't understand.
I have no idea how my mother put up with it.
Scene: Kitchen, mid 1980s, mom making dinner.
Mom: So nice to have the kids playing quietly in their rooms. Kids, wash your hands! Soups on!
A: Yay Dinner!
C: =SOB= bwaaaaaaa! =SOB=
Mom: C! What wrong sweetie?
C: The kitty di-i-ed-d =SOB= bwaaaaaaaa!
Mom: What kitty died? Where? A? What did you do to your sister?
A: Nothing!
C: The kitty with the candle =hic= he ... he ... went up the stairs ... and the door wouldn't open ... and...and he ...he di-i-i-ed =SOB!=
Mom: What kitty?
C: The one on my wall =sniffle=
Mom: What kit-...? You mean the one on the tapestry? The one your Aunt made? On the wall above your desk?
C: un hun
Mom: The kitty on your tapestry died...
C: un hun
Mom: How...?
C: I was telling myself a s-story and the kitty died at the end...
Mom: Wh- ?........ I am sorry honey, that is very sad. Why didn't you tell yourself a happier story?
C: =confused stare= =uh oh! abort! Mom doesn't understand that stories go where they want, say no more, just start eating=
Mom: ...Well ... um ... eat up...?
As an adult looking back now, you can totally tell that she was thinking something along the lines of "WTF!!!! This kid is totally batsh*t crazy!!!!" or whatever the polite way of saying that in the 1980s would have been. Everytime my family didn't understand why I had done something, I just clammed up and wouldn't say any more. I had obviously miscalculated my observations of humanity somewhere and done it wrong if they didn't understand and therefore had brought shame upon myself.
Like I said: Weird Kid!
P.S.
Mom's line to explain to my brother why we were treated differently in terms of punishments and things when we were growing up is:
"Well, I could reason with you! There was absolutely no reasoning with her!"
Seriously people, I once started singing a version of "On Top of Spaghetti" to myself that somehow ended in the battlefield massacre of millions of puppies!
I have no idea why my imagination was so messed up from such an early age (ahem, watching Star Wars when I was three, ahem), but it was, and it usually ended up with me in tears over the horrors that had befallen my characters, and running to mom, until I realized she just didn't understand.
I have no idea how my mother put up with it.
Scene: Kitchen, mid 1980s, mom making dinner.
Mom: So nice to have the kids playing quietly in their rooms. Kids, wash your hands! Soups on!
A: Yay Dinner!
C: =SOB= bwaaaaaaa! =SOB=
Mom: C! What wrong sweetie?
C: The kitty di-i-ed-d =SOB= bwaaaaaaaa!
Mom: What kitty died? Where? A? What did you do to your sister?
A: Nothing!
C: The kitty with the candle =hic= he ... he ... went up the stairs ... and the door wouldn't open ... and...and he ...he di-i-i-ed =SOB!=
Mom: What kitty?
C: The one on my wall =sniffle=
Mom: What kit-...? You mean the one on the tapestry? The one your Aunt made? On the wall above your desk?
C: un hun
Mom: The kitty on your tapestry died...
C: un hun
Mom: How...?
C: I was telling myself a s-story and the kitty died at the end...
Mom: Wh- ?........ I am sorry honey, that is very sad. Why didn't you tell yourself a happier story?
C: =confused stare= =uh oh! abort! Mom doesn't understand that stories go where they want, say no more, just start eating=
Mom: ...Well ... um ... eat up...?
As an adult looking back now, you can totally tell that she was thinking something along the lines of "WTF!!!! This kid is totally batsh*t crazy!!!!" or whatever the polite way of saying that in the 1980s would have been. Everytime my family didn't understand why I had done something, I just clammed up and wouldn't say any more. I had obviously miscalculated my observations of humanity somewhere and done it wrong if they didn't understand and therefore had brought shame upon myself.
Like I said: Weird Kid!
P.S.
Mom's line to explain to my brother why we were treated differently in terms of punishments and things when we were growing up is:
"Well, I could reason with you! There was absolutely no reasoning with her!"
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Time for bed
Just spent a minute scratching at a spot on my "p" key.
It would not come off.
Then I looked closer.
It was a tiny * in the bottom corner of the key.
Its supposed to be there.
Huh.
It would not come off.
Then I looked closer.
It was a tiny * in the bottom corner of the key.
Its supposed to be there.
Huh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)