It's been nothing but (typical) k8-astrophes since.
It would be the world's longest and most dis-jointed story to try and tell it altogether. I know! You're thinking: "SO? When has that stopped you before???". But I am going to TRY to tell a bunch of shorter stories starting where I left off...
"NICE BOX!"
That would be a direct (and frequent) quote by the Repair Man who fixed my fridge. I didn't even know where to look and it was difficult to keep a straight face at his incredible enthusiasm for the quality of my Kenmore.
It turns out going to The Cafe and asking around about my refrigeration issues was the best thing to do. After going out with The Locals that Sunday night I got a text Monday morning that The Cafe's Handyman would be willing to take a diagnostic look. After I picked Mom up at LAX and we had some lunch I called him up and we arranged to meet at my Apt. This was approximately 1PM and Mom and I were having a walkabout town so we headed back to The Apt. and doled out my groceries to The Neighbors.
Nothing like having to go next door and knock every time you want an egg.
Or a frozen pizza.
After hanging around The Apt. all afternoon waiting for The Repair Man to show, we finally rented a movie from The Redbox, picked up a frozen pizza from The Neighbors, put on our PJs and settled onto the air mattress. At approximately 8PM he arrived by bicycle. He breezed right past me at the door making a beeline to the fridge and the very definite statement: "This is a great box." "You have a great box.". Sir! My MOTHER is here. Please!
He determined that it was (A) Fixable, and (B) Well worth fixing. And Mom and I saw him just about every day of her visit- I kind of wish we all took a picture together. Next to The Fridge. (You know I'd've hung it on The Fridge!)
The Fridge Project finally wrapped up the Wednesday after Mom left. But it only cost me the part and it seems I've made a new friend.
AND I have a great box.
SCRATCH & DENT
Okay, more like Scratch & Divot.
Divot: In trying to right the kitchen before going to pick Mom up at LAX on Monday I pushed the fridge back into place to discover that I had put an impressive divot in the cheap-o (but new) linoleum beneath. Great. Just great.
Scratch: En route to LAX I "polished" a GIANT SWIRLING SCRATCH into the lens of my Smiths.
I started my drive without my sunglasses but while I was waiting to merge onto the 405 decided I wanted them. (The Gloom has been on-again/off-again.) I dug them out of my purse in their Mfg-provided-protective-soft-case-that-doubles-as-a-cleaning-cloth and put them on. FILTHY. So I take them off to clean them with Said Case and proceed to put a GIANT SWIRLING SCRATCH in the lens. At first I was hopeful I'd just smeared something on the lens but NO. It's A GIANT SWIRLING SCRATCH. REALLY?!? WTF????????
BUT WAIT... since The Scratch, I have managed to LOSE the Mfg-provided-protective-soft-case-that-doubles-as-a-cleaning-cloth further thwarting my writing a soppy Letter-to-The-Mfg in the hopes they'd repair/replace the lens. (Does anyone have a Smith cloth case???) UGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(If EXASPERATION made a sound it would be my call.)
"YOUR LIGHTS ARE ON"
(This post is taking an unintendedly pervy bent...)
However, this too would be a direct quote by The Passerby who noticed that The Jeep's headlights were on. Who knows why?!? It's ALWAYS sunny in SoCal. So yes, on the very same day we were doling out groceries & waiting for The Repair Man; the very day Mom arrived when she and I and The Neighbors were all outside near the car, I managed to leave the headlights on. For HOURS. And we all managed NOT to notice. The car was dead. The fridge was dying. And I cried. Because SERIOUSLY!!!!! This is THE FIRST TIME I have seen My Mother in SEVEN MONTHS!!!!!!!!!! And all of these things are going WRONG!?!?!?! This is terrible.
So after the meltdown but before The Repair Man another neighbor of mine, who's borrowed my jumper cables in the past, came home and we asked him to jump the car. The first attempt wasn't so good. But I was helping. When I stopped helping the second attempt was much more successful. Though his diagnosis is that I need a new battery anyway, he got it running.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
The Wednesday of Mom's Visit was her BIRTHDAY. We had a lovely breakfast at The Cafe (courtesy of Donna B), pedicures
(Pink-a-Doodle for Mom & Flip-Flop Fantasy for me), a visit from Refrigerator Repair, some Retail Therapy, Toy Story 3D, and dinner at Walt's Wharf. I really only mention this for the sheer fact that I ordered and successfully ate soft shelled crabs. (Hahaha. You thought this story would have to do with Mom? Just because it was HER birthday? Hahaha. Fools.)
Even after our waitress confessed that she couldn't taste-test the dish because of her intense fear of spiders and the crabs' resemblance to them, I ordered it. I too am Arachnophobic. But what the heck! Try something new. What's one more new thing in this Year of New??? Besides, they were served deep-fried atop Fried Green Tomatoes. I can eat anything "fried". And I proved it.
VAKAY BY THE SEA
So Mom's Visit was great. I mean I loved having Mom here. I don't know that The Trip was all that she'd expected. And the accommodations were- well, they were non-existent. If it weren't for Maria's Aero-bed there wouldn't have been any. So anyone who visits post-Mom owes her a Thank You note.
On The Tuesday of Mom's Visit we got up early, had a HUGE breakfast at The Harbor House Cafe (courtesy of Bev) and drove The Coast Road South to San Diego stopping whenever/wherever we felt like it. It took all day. On the return we had dinner (Taco Tuesday- super delish!) at En Fuego in Del Mar.
On The Saturday of Mom's Visit we set out to re-create our Southerly Roadtrip, this time going North to Santa Monica for Sri Lanka Day. It was not the same. In fact, I think we'd both agree that if we knew how the day would go we probably would have opted to stay in Seal and just go to The Beach or troll yard sales. But then again, things might not have turned out as they did...
Again we started early and, after a small, low-blood-sugar-induced-tiff over something (???), had another delicious breakfast at Tammie's in Hermosa Beach- The Flourless Flax Pancakes are FANTASTIC!
We liked Manhattan Beach. We didn't have the patience for Venice Beach. We parked briefly in Oceanpark and then headed to Santa Monica where we waited in an everlasting line for some Sri Lankan dish the woman in front of us said was chicken but Mom (still) doesn't believe. It involved some sort of coconut milk pancake, The Suspect Chicken-on-the-Bone (Heather, you'd have croaked.), eggs, and HOT chili paste. It was tasty. No really, it was.
But we'd had enough (L.A., blech.). And headed home. We stopped for gas right near the IKEA in Carson and Mom suggested we "see if they're still open". So we went to IKEA. And I got a chair (POANG) and a lamp (ORGEL).
When we got home our earlier discussion of yard sales was on my brain and we spent some time sifting through Craigslist where I discovered a few "rattan sofas" at a reasonable price, including one posted for $20- A Roommate's Revenge it seemed. I contacted The Poster via text the next A.M. to find out she was now "giving the thing away". I said, send me a picture. And she did. I said, I'll take it.
So Mom and I borrowed my boss's minivan (!) and drove to the tip of the Balboa Peninsula. The Parking Gods were on our side- we got a spot right in front of the building. It was a group effort to get it out of the Apt., into the van, and home but we did. Then we washed it up and dubbed it: "Weekend at Bernie's II" (It's The Sequel to Bernie Lomax! And probly only Nicholas, Colin and anyone who's been to their SU Apt. OR The Keystone Kottage will get it.)
Success begets success- so I guess furniture begets furniture. No sooner had Mom left but my friends decided to replace the mattress in their guest bedroom and asked if I'd like the existing one. Yes, please! (I guess it's Thank You Notes all around.)
And so, after 6 months of Indoor Camping the accommodations have gotten a whole lot more accommodating here at Vakay By The Sea. (I'm only sorry Mom missed out. Oh well, I guess she'll have to come back. Soon.)
ONCE BITTEN TWICE SHY
Actually, try TWICE BITTEN. By Bootsie The Schnauzer who lives next door to Scout. Her owners asked me if I'd house-sit/dog-sit while they were on vacation. I was excited at the prospect. It's a fairly easy and (usually) enjoyable way to make some extra money. HOWEVER, not when the dog is A Biter.
At The Owner's request I went to the house this past Monday to meet the dog and start to get acquainted. At The Owner's instruction I broke Dog Rule #1: Never mess with a dog while it's eating. The Owner instructed me to pet the dog after I gave her her breakfast so that she knew I was the one who fed her. I hesitated but he reassured me that he "always does this". I now have a Schnauzer Bite on my forearm. I'm just glad I was wearing a jacket.
The Owner felt terrible. I didn't blame the dog; this was our human error. So I was 100% willing to return on Friday for a second meeting and some one-on-one time with Bootsie. I arrived in the A.M. again and successfully fed her the remainder of her breakfast. Then I decided a walk would be a good test. She let me put the leash on her and we went for a decent walk around the neighborhood. On our return, just when I was thinking we were going to be all right together, she got tangled in her leash. After letting her try to correct it, I finally bent down to free her and she nearly took my finger off! I was honestly afraid to look. I was afraid the tip of my finger wasn't going to be there! As it is I have a tooth mark under the nail and a ravaged cuticle. Needless to say, I will not be dogsitting Bootsie this trip. I'm just glad I didn't need a shot on top of it! Sheesh.
IT'S A JEEP THING... YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND
Or to quote Nicholas, "Kate. Most people who own Jeeps are wrench-heads. You're not. That's why it costs YOU a lot to fix."
Friday was my day off. I went to Yoga on The Strand. Then to Bootsie's (The Biter).
After The Incident I helped Mrs. D carry in the groceries and she offered me lunch and Band-Aids. I couldn't refuse. (Bridget & Mom- you'd be proud this went much better than The Car Door Incident of '07.)
As I was driving home (6.2 miles) my CHECK GAUGES light came on. I already knew I needed gas, but my Oil and Thermostat gauges were fluttering. I proceeded to the gas station, filled up, pulled to a parking space and busted out The Owners' Manual. I was on the verge of ticked-off because I was just at the Jiffy Lube in June. Aren't they supposed to "top off your fluids"?!? I unlatch the hood and check the coolant. It's a little low but it's not empty. The oil seems fine. I buy some undoubtedly overpriced Mobil Mart Universal Coolant and "top off". I start the car and this seems to right my guages. Thank goodness.
There I go, counting my chickens before they're hatched again. (I'm pretty sure my chickens are from the salmonella farms.)
I could SMELL it before anything happened. When I stopped at the light to turn left just a few blocks from home the engine just stopped. The radio was still on, but I was pretty sure the engine was no longer running. So I put it in park and re-started. Success. (If you can call it that.) I made it home and I backed into my space. I turned The Jeep off and the smoke just billowed out from under the hood. My friendly Postman offered his 2-cent stamp: "when my car did that I had to replace the head, cost me $500 bucks." Please, Mr. Postman!
About this time Nicholas responds to my "are coolants specific?" text. And I give him the update. My phone rings immediately. Nicholas is still at work. This MUST be BAD. He is patient and stays on the phone with me for a while. This MUST be VERY BAD. And EXPENSIVE.
My neighbor, who I had yet to meet, comes over. Says he was out watering his flowers and he noticed it seemed like I was having some trouble. (Please be a mechanic. Please, please, please.) He gave me his name and the name of "a mechanic over town who's good to the locals". (Local? Me? Really? Neat. ) He tried to make me feel better saying, "it might only be the thermostat- and that's a $5 part". Thank you, Sir, you're very kind. I am not that lucky. My chickens have salmonella.
So I take it to Mac the Mechanic. He's a nice guy- though he reminds me of a grown up version of Data from The Goonies. His diagnosis is: definitely a water pump & thermostat; probably a radiator. I cry. I can't help it. It's just OVERWHELMING sometimes. And girls are allowed to cry.
I ask him what is the bare minimum we can get away with fixing and what would it cost. He makes a phone call. He gives me a quote for the water pump/thermostat combo. Oh good. I didn't want to go home for Christmas anyway.
He says, if it's possible he'll try not to have to replace the radiator (right now). But he might have to. He attempts a pep talk about how INEXPENSIVE my parts are. How if I drove a BMW my parts alone would be $600. Somehow, and for a multitude of reasons, this fails to make me feel better.
I was too overwhelmed to deal. I brought the car home. I took a bath and washed my sheets. I made my bed with my linens "from home". I ate several bowls of Cheerios and went to bed at 9:30. I can walk to work.
The next day after work (and before church) I had a PBR in the alley with our cook. He's looked at my car before, he talked to me about The Jeep Situation for a while and he gave me some good info. He felt Mac was reasonable and he suggested that should the radiator need replacing I consider a larger one. He offered, once The Jeep was operational (hopefully with just the water pump/ thermostat replacement), to take it for a second opinion. I thought that was really nice.
As of this blog, The Jeep is still sitting in my parking space unrepaired. We'll see what's in my tip envelope tomorrow at The Cafe and we'll figure it out from there.
(Mom, add: Craftsman 244pc Wrench Set to Xmas List)
(Just kidding.)
(sort of.)
"YOU HAVE A NICE AURA"
I have a nice box and a nice aura. Seems I'm quite a catch! And yet I remain uncaught. Go figure.
Another direct quote, from yet another Neighbor. While I was sorting through The Jeep Situation on Friday my Next-Door-Upstairs-In-the-Back-Neighbor shuffled out to check his mail. After a monologue about the duration of time it took one small package to arrive from Ottowa he asked me how Mom was enjoying her visit. I said, "Well, she left. Two weeks ago."
We then went on to have a brief "when it rains it pours" conversation that circled back to my "job". I told him I was still looking for more work and he told me to talk to his wife- she waitresses at another restaurant in town. "Go on down and fill out an application, give her as a reference." I say, OK.
Later that evening, I hear someone Aloha-ing from the screen door. It's my Next-Door-Upstairs-In-the-Back-Neighbor's Wife. She's brought me an application from her restaurant. Although she tells me they aren't hiring. She gives me some suggestions about where else to look. And tells me it'll work out. She says, "I know you'll be okay. Because you're here. And you have a nice aura.". I thank her and we say goodnight. As an afterthought she says, "And dress up. Don't go casual." Okay. I can do that.
Aloha.
And I went back inside, and I shook my head, and I teared up again for the umpteenth time. Overwhelmed AGAIN. This time by how NICE people are here. People who don't know you at all; they see you might have some trouble or need and they just come on over to help how they can.....Where am I?
I'll keep you posted.
k8
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