Well, I have some good news on the car scene. My New Yorker has been in the shop since Tuesday and Hubbs said that it will be done today. Great huh? Hell yeah....I want my ride back. Shit, I hardly had a chance to drive it, before it ended up in the shop for repairs. We didn't even have a chance to bond yet!! At least now I know the tranny will be good to go for a long time. Hubbs let me take his car to work for two days, but I was a nervous wreck the whole time, 'cause he is very picky about how his car is driven. Can't say that I blame him, as his job requires him to do extensive driving. Anyway, I was a wreck the whole time I drove the damn thing. Then there's my sons truck. I drove that thing to work on Monday, and talk about being nervous. That truck makes so many freakin' strange grinding noises, that I thought for sure I had ruined something, somewhere. Here he tells me, after I get home, that it does that shit all the time. Couldn't have told me about the things little neuroses before I left, huh? Nah. I can't wait to have my car back. Now you would think that this would be an easy task to accomplish. Well, probably in someone elses life it would be. But not in my dysfunctional little corner of the world. See, my son is off work tomorrow, so I ask him if he would ride me to get my car. Hell no...today is the one year anniversary of his auto accident. He's not leaving the house today. So now I can't get my car today due to intense superstition. Only in my world I'll tell ya. I'll bet cha if it was his ride, we'd be out there picking it up at the friggin' butt crack of dawn! I'm getting pretty frustrated with the testosterone crowd in this place. 'Nuff said.