in which i narrowly avoid learning yet another lesson the hard way

i have to get used to driving my car again.

i made a deal with SO the weekend before we left on our respective winter vacations: since he was going to be away from home (charleston) longer than i was (columbia), and his flashy new chariot (a corolla almost exactly like the one i was seriously considering over the summer, during the great clutch/transmission debacle) gets slightly better mileage than my 8 1/2 year old wheels, we swapped for a few weeks.

as i headed to work this afternoon, and he headed out of town, we swapped back.

have you tried to switch back to driving a 5-speed after driving nothing but automatic for four weeks? it took my left foot a minute to figure out what it was supposed to do, which led to yours truly sitting in the parking lot, looking like an idiot, trying to figure out why the car wouldn't start.

uh, duh.

SO's main reason for wanting to switch back was that my car had started running hot again on his trip up from charleston friday night, and since he had a long drive back, he didn't want it to overheat.

this is an annoying habit my car had picked up on an intermittent basis lately. over the summer, my trusty mechanic said that there was condensation on my thermostat housing, and that it was okay for the moment, but would eventually crack and i'd need a new one. he said it wouldn't be a huge deal, so instead of freaking out the first time the needle inched toward the red line, i simply turned on my heat full blast, which i balanced out by rolling down my window...in the middle of south carolina winter, which means it was about 50 outside. (actually, the window part isn't unusual. i've been known to suffer frozen hair because i have a habit of driving with the window down, year round.)

today, however, the needle shot up almost immediately, and despite running the heat full blast, didn't budge from its new position, unnervingly close to the dreaded red line.

i believe this is pretty universally considered a problem.

thankfully, i work with boys. not only boys, but boys who know basic things about cars.

when i got to work, i went up to one such boy and asked him if, before he left for the day, he could peek under the hood of the car with me and help me check my coolant....just in case this wasn't just a thermostat housing problem that i could blow off.

did you know a car can still run with a miniscule amount of coolant? thankfully, i do not know exactly how short that trip will be, because after discovering the source of my problem (hoepfully the sole source), the aforementioned boy went out in search of a vat of coolant, so i wouldn't be wandering around the aisles of various gas stations in the wee hours of the morning (i get off at midnight on sundays) in search of this chartreuse elixir.

ooh! ooh! ooh!- let me point out that i thought to fashion a funnel out of one of this thin, plastic water bottles, which seemed like a far better idea than my initial plan to make one out of paper- macgyver would be so proud, despite the lack of chewing gum or a paper clip being involved in this little project, which is not to say i don't have them in my backpack at all times, just in case.

so, now i'll be able to spend the entire drive home this evening getting reaquainted with my car....rather than possibly spending part of it getting acquainted with yet another tow truck service in the middle of the night. this is a good thing.

i was thinking of the immortal words of socrates, who said, "i drank what?"

i should have known better.

i mean, one of those unspoken rules of community dining areas is to leave stuff that doesn't belong to you untouched, partially because you don't know which one of your coworkers it may belong to. i mean, you could get lucky and run across a plate of cookies made by a meticulously clean coworker who happens to be a fabulous cook. on the other hand, those same cookies could have been brought in by the dear soul who not only let the fruit of their loins help with preparation, but also looked the other way as the little dears held a contest to see who could lick the most cookies.

it's well known that i have a fondness for tea. ever since that night toward the end of my senior year of high school when i threw four tea bags in a large mug and added about half a cup of sugar in an effort to fortify myself for my all night "complete every step necessary in the senior paper writing process in one evening because i've procrastinated all semester" session, and certainly despite the god-awful caffeine hangover i had the next day, i have had a certain fondness for the hot brew, preferably with enough sugar to inspire one to bounce off the walls for an hour or two.

in fact, that's one of the few areas of southern cuisine i can identify with. sweet tea is a fine and beautiful thing, though i'm certain my teeth would not be if i didn't brush them religiously after imbibing the stuff.

i like my tea lukewarm. not hot enough to boil my tastebuds, but not too chilly, either- unless, of course, it's 90 degrees in the middle of april, in which case, i like a little tea with my iced sugar water. so, you can imagine my distress this evening when i discovered that i was out of tea just as i sat down to eat my chimichanga and 3lb. salad. (yes, you read that right. i guess i went a little crazy when SO took me to the whole foods market in charleston when i ran away after work yesterday.)

at any rate, i needed to wash down my chimi and monster salad with something, and neither lukewarm water nor scaldingly hot tea seemed like a good idea. sure, the soda machine was an option, but if i'm going to fork over a buck for a can of soda, i'd like to be at least kissed or presented with a small bouquet first.

so, i did something very, very bad. something i never do, generally out of (well-founded, given some of my coworkers) fear for my safety.

yep- i opened the fridge, spotted a jug of tea that appeared to be up for grabs (left over from the last birthday celebration, perhaps? after all, it is that time of the month.*), and poured myself a nice, short, syrofoam cup which, admittedly, does not have the same ring as "tall glass", but it's a little more realistic.

assuming that it was sweet tea, since this is the south, after all, i took a swig.

make that half a swig- i don't think it counts if you don't swallow.**

half a cup of sugar later (keep in mind this was a 12 oz styrofoam cup), it still wasn't drinkable.

half a cup of sugar after that, i gave up, poured it out, and crossed it off my mental checklist (which is not to be confused with my "to do before i turn 30" list) as yet another lesson learned the hard way.

kind of like the one about running down freshly waxed wooden stairs in super fuzzy socks.....but that's a lesson for another time.

*no, no, not that time of the month, you weirdo.
**stop it. this is a pg-ish blog