Scott Cursed Me

I think Scott cursed me. I'M SO SORRY SCOTT!

I did not mean to insult you by saying that I arrived the moment that Mr. G put me on his links. I know that my existence slowly revolves more and more around you and your references to me in your blog.

This is part of the email conversation I got from Scotty.

Scott: i guess being linked from my blog since day one doesn't mean a god damn thing!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: It means everything but this is a complete stranger!!!!
Scott: pain....too.....much.....to.....deal........with............must....... .....move................on

Ok so funny Scott - always makes me laugh- all is well and I go to lunch. On my way off the parking lot - this white SUV is tailing me - great the base police that have nothing better to do and its trying to get me to do something so they can ticket me. So I'm being all paranoid and driving like a good driver and it turns out its not the base police and I speed off. Had to hit the bank up before the weekly outing to Taco Bell. I think I bumped something on the way in - maybe too close to the curb? Oh well - onward to the bank to do my bidness. Next stop Taco Bell which is about a block away to buy my lunch and about 5 other people's in my office area. I get the bag and I swore it was just too much for one bag but it will be fine. Off and running back to work - as I'm driving this guy is pointing to my back tire - "Its flat!" he says. GREAT! I pull into a parking lot and get out to verify (why I would think this guy would like I have no idea, but I still check). Fabulous - I have a flat tire, its 105 degrees outside, and I'm wearing a skirt and heels. What am I going to do? Call my ex - thats what.

Now this is where you need a little bit of a background so you know how funny this is to me. Part of the divorce agreement was that he gets first crack at car problems. He wanted it, I gave it to him. About 2 years ago, when I was dropping my mom off at her house I hit the curb, popped the tire, and (allegedly) ruined the front alignment. From then on, my car needs a new tire about every 3-6 months. I just drive the freaking thing - I don't mess it with. So my ex (and his gentlemenly gesture of taking care of my car's needs) complains when I say that the car needs ANYTHING involving the tires. Two weeks ago, he put two brand new tires in the front. So when I saw that I had a flat first thing that crossed my mind was "Crap, Brian is going to kill me" then I called and told him I had a flat first words out of his mouth were "WHAT? Its not any of the front tires I hope". He shows up and promptly tells me that the tire is ruined that he has to get yet another tire for my car - I guess I drove on it and ruined the outside and it can cause a bubble. At this point, he's still explaining and I'm thinking I'm Charlie Brown and he's the teacher "blah blah blah". So he's asking me what happened and I tell him how I think I ran over something. Now I dont know why - but he starts getting all CSI on me and trying to guess from the marks on the front tire and the flat tire what I did. Again I tell him that I don't know what happened and ever since the "tire popping" incident I dont take tight corners in driveways (which is sometimes true - true in this case just so you all know). So he figures that some dirt on the tire looks like I rubbed something with my front tire and then "it" popped my back tire. You know what? I don't give a shit. Fix my tire and let me get back to work so I can eat my Burrito Supreme (not to mention that I have lunch for those other people). When I finally get back to work I start pulling out all the food and nothing I ordered was in the bag - it ended up that the food was right the wrapping was wrong. I was seriously going to call the local Taco Bell and rip someone a new one. I am so happy to be sitting at my desk now - not much can happen to me except for a power outage.