January 11th, 2005

Ginger1991

Gingers were not meant to Drive.

*stifled sob*



I woke up at 7:30 AM--bright and shiny, excited.
Watched Mr Smith sleep until he felt my grinning gaze....

Made coffee while he showered, we danced around in the kitchen sipping our french pressed Joe.

Me humming while we brushed our teeth...

I dropped him off at MATCHFRAME at 9AM--and headed for FRY TITLE SERVICE on South Lamar...in his borrowed car.

Parked, grinning to myself, thinking of all the places I would go--how balmy the weather is today....
perfect for scootering about with the wind in my hair.

I laid out all the paper work Mother had sent, and it was examined by the woman behind the counter.

And examined.

and.....examined.

*head in hands*

Short version--sans the gut twisting complexity of the red tape stuck to the bottom of my shoes entangling my ankles....

The guy who sold it to me doesn't own it.
Not on paper.
And the place that sold it to him, HAD him sell it...
doesn't exist anymore.

The nice lady, behind the counter, with a sniffling ME standing there tears welling larger and larger in my eyes
as she carefully and compassionately explained--
and began digging around and sent her assistant to print up copies of a form....

I'm trying to figure out the easiest way to do this, she assured me, while scratching her head.

She began writing on the pages the assistant had returned with, pulling out a highlighter marker, and furrowing her brow.

What a Lady. A Texan. A Good-'Ol Girl....she's been around the block.
This is not her first Rodeo.

She had that edge of twinkle in her eye, that means she's trying to tell you something she can't actually tell you.
The slight nod.
The nudge.

She was trying to help me NOT cry, not burst into bawling tears.

This might work.
she handed me the paperwork.
A sheet that says BILL OF SALE that requires a signature from DAZON (Arizona) Inc.
And another that says STATEMENT OF FACTS TO CORRECT ERROR ON TITLE,
also requiring a signature from the Arizona based company.

The Stateside distributor of the Hong Kong Peoples Motor DAZON.

*sigh*

I may be able to mail this to them, with my story...
And have it returned--to take title of my Chow.

Maybe.
(i am stil trying to suss out where the *wink wink nudge nudge* was going....)


So, like, none of you live in Tempe Arizona--do you?
*weak wet grin*

*head in hands*

It was all going to be DONE today.
I took the day off.
I borrowed the car.
It had been a long wait, but it was worth it--it was going
to be
sooo sweet when all the frustration
and running around--
Paid off.
And I had been patient and responsible.



I pulled out of the parking lot of FRY TITLE SERVICE off Treadwell street,
and sat at the STOP sign entrance onto Lamar--
finally breaking open for just a few moments.

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
Loudly.
I banged my head on the steering wheel.

Then sucked it up, wiped my face, and pulled out onto the busy street......
Chin high. Eyes level.

i'm learning. i'm learning something. this is for a reason. i am growing up. i will take care of this.
i will ride that thing. it will be mine. i am not giving up.
this is larger than a 4 stroke engine wrapped in red plastic.


TREADWELL....I laughed.
I changed lanes and pulled into Money Box and cashed my pay check.
Bought a money order for February's rent.

I chatted with the cashier, we are becoming friends. She recognises me, and I her.
I decide once again, that Banks are over-rated.

And I'll be damned, I still have a nest egg AND am ahead.

Drive home.
Call Mother.

She is soft spoken, and says she is sorry.
My Mother is never soft spoken,
She is sorry.

She wanted to help....and it has become a nest of eels.

She told me quietly that everything happens for a reason.
I was bent by this--having said it to myself earlier, for my OWN reasons.

I managed not to ask her what she thought GOD had in mind.
It would have been spiteful.
She prayed for the damnable thing after all.....

*sigh*

You can take the Girl out of the Mom...
*laughs*
Even SIDEWAYS.....
*sigh*
But you cannot take the Mom out of the Girl.

Her fingerprint is on me.
Even when I think I am doing it my own way...she is there.
Inside.

And I am grateful.
Frustrated often....but in essence...so very grateful for all she has taught me.
Invested in me.

My Heroine and sometimes Nemesis...called me back thirty minutes later.
We are working on several plans.

And all I have to say is this:
Pity
Pity
PITY the poor fool who fucked over her Daughter.

My Mother's wrath is a harsh Justice.
For all I know she has the villagers wielding torches and pitchforks
outside his door right now.
Waxahachie is a small small small Texas Town....
and he just pissed off their Patron Saint.

One way or another, this will all be made right.

(god i love this medium...i have talked myself out of the funk.)

And in the end...it is just a machine.
One I have done without for a very long time.

>_<

But it is sooooo shiny.
So Red.
Such a pivotal device......for CHANGE in my life right now.

And I am hard pressed....to not bang my fists against my temples.
I want it.
I want it NOW.

*sigh*

Energy.
So much energy spent on something unreconciled.

The thwarting continues...
But what a story
when it all comes together.

*grin*

Now.

What to do with my day off???
*slumps*

*grrrrrrrrrrrr*
  • Current Music
    The Ghost Of An Unkissed Kiss
Ginger1991

I have a lot of Keys....

*jingle jingle*

*THUNK*

What do we have here...

One DAZON scooter key.
A key to my apartment, a key to my apartment elevator...a key
to my mail box.
A key to my security gate.
A key to a small lock I keep in my bag in case I need a small lock.
*laughs*
A key to the trunk in the middle of my apartment that acts as coffee table,
Shrine...
and container of lost paper treasure.
A key to Mr Smith's house, and a key to the other lock to Mr Smith's house
because the last room-mate locked himself out and broke the lock
and replaced it with a NOT MATCHING lock.
*laughs again*
A coded magnetic key to the safe at work.
A plain old key to the front door at work.

Eleven keys.

I can actually remember times in my adult life....when I did not have a single key.

I also remember being a child--and being presented with my FIRST key.

Responsibility.

Treasured and disdained.

Freedoms each.
A side of the coin.

It was slightly raw.........to drive around in a borrowed car today, after having learned that my own little vehicle will be some time in coming.

I languished in it.

I noticed everything.

Approaching an intersection near my apartment, behind the #331 bus....I saw a young man running to catch it--and the bus pull away. My windows were rolled down, and I intended to offer him a ride--as I was driving to work (glutton, I know, my day off...and at a loss, I was going in to see how the day was coming along) and would be following the path of the bus. I was pleased to see that despite the rules, the bus driver had rounded the corner and come to a stop to pick him up. I waited, because traffic laws dictated that I stay in that lane--and there was a BUS in it.

The guy behind me, as I was being charmed by the kindness of a driver sticking his own "working" neck out to pick up the runner, laid down on his horn.

I looked back. I gestured at the bus.
The man in my mirror waved a fist.
So I gave him two fingers.

*cock cock*

Alas, I am quite sure he simply thought I was trying to wave him AROUND me.
And NOT that the gesture implied I was still capable of killing his ass with a long bow.

*sigh*

What a long day it has been.
It started so early, and with such hope.

And all things considered...
and I have been considering them all day...

I suppose it will end with hope too.
Just, just a different coloured one.

I told Don, my Boss...what happened with the title company.
Do you know what he said?

He said...things happen for a reason.

I laughed loudly.
I didn't explain why.
He didn't need me to.
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    The Never Never