Bleah. I would like to return the past week and exchange it for a new one.

Saturday, I was trying to get the hell out of the District for something, turning left at an intersection, and the car I was going to get behind came to a stop. So I did too, only about 20 degrees around the corner. Then he started to move, I let out the clutch, and hit him.

No damage at all to his car, I didn't even get out of mine, choosing instead to wave the guy off, but it was one of those stupid things. When I got where I was going, I checked my car, and there's a spot on the front bumper where I rubbed off about a quarter inch square of my paint. Ugh.

So today, I'm leaving work after a particularly annoying and headachey day (I've been annoyed and headachey all week), and I back out of my parking place ... directly into a passing Ford Expedition. I couldn't see her coming up the ramp and she couldn't see me backing out from beyond the 4-Runner parked next to me. Argh. Again, minimal damage, but enough this time that we exchanged insurance information. My insurance people called me an hour or two later, and I said, "no, I don't want to file a claim," but they'll pay any damages on her vehicle. Whatever. I really don't want to think about it.

I'm always sorta disturbed when small stuff like this happens, because I'm usually the sort of person who fucks up big when he fucks up at all. Rub some paint off in the parking garage? Pish tosh. I'm waiting for somebody to t-bone me in an intersection or ride up over my back bumper at the toll gates.

Just over five years ago I was stopped at an intersection and pushing buttons on my car stereo when there was a whump followed by a smaller whump, and I realized I'd been rear ended. By a woman driving a new(ish, at least) Cadillac Seville. In front of a car dealership. The second whump was one of the service guys from that same dealership slamming into the back of the Cadillac, as he didn't expect her to come to such a sudden stop. So when I walked up to the dealership to use their phone, the sales guy standing out front said, "looks like you could use a new car!" "I just need to use your phone." (Unfortunately there's no <growl> tag in HTML). When I got back to my car she was gone. I had all her insurance information anyway, but my dad suspected at the time she'd been drinking and didn't want to get caught by the police. Anyway, her insurance paid to fix my car.

Hallowe'en of that same year, I was driving the came car south on US-75 through Richardson, TX, on my way to a King Crimson concert that night in Fort Worth, after which I was planning to drive onto Austin, stay with friends, and see the show the next night there. Wreck happened in front of me, but I saw it coming and managed to stop. The old dude in the Grand Marquis behind me didn't. Again with the double whumping. Interestingly enough, there's so little happening in Richardson, TX, that the emergency response included five police cars, two fire trucks, and an ambulance, for a four car accident. The only people requiring the ambulance were the unfortunate old man who'd hit me, and his even less fortunate passenger, who had starred the windshield and was walking around in a daze, probably in shock. Once again, his insurance paid to fix my car (which I did drive all the way to Austin that night after the concert, although I'd had no dinner because the accident took my dinner window away from me).

The following January, I quit my job, drove the same car to visit my old college roommate, and was driving back so I could get to a job interview the next day. It had rained like hell the first half hour of the drive, but the rain had let up and the roads were fine. Except for the one patch just past the crest of a small hill, that is. I felt the car jump about an inch to the left and then regain traction, had enough time to think, "oh shit! Hydroplane!" and move my foot to the brake pedal, and then found out that on wet and slippery enough roads, steering into the skid doesn't help at all. The front end of the car turned about 30 degrees to the left and then the tires caught, causing the back end to flip around counterclockwise. The momentum smacked the car sideways into the Jersey barrier at about 60mph, backwards that is, and the car and I slid backwards a couple hundred yards down the left shoulder, grinding up against the wall. Looking directly at a semi coming right at me in the left lane at about 70. It passed by, as did several other cars. I noted that the engine had died, but when I turned the key it started right up. So I waited for an opening and did a U-ey and pulled over on the right shoulder. The car sounded kinda odd, like the rear wheel was grinding against the wheel well.

A couple of the cars that had seen my accident had stopped on the right shoulder, and one of them drove off immediately after I pulled around, but the driver of the other came by to check on me. By the time he got to me, I was puzzling over the right rear quarter panel, which looked oddly dark. After the previous experience in Texas I had made sure that the flashlight in the car actually had charged batteries, so I got my flashlight and returned to the rear of the car. The wheel was gone.

Uh.

Actually, it wasn't gone. The impact had broken the rear axle, but the wheel itself ended up underneath the car. It had been the source of the grinding noise. The guy who'd stopped didn't have a cell phone, so I said I'd wait for a trooper to show up, thanked him for staying, and allowed him to leave. Then I got back in the car, had another Dorito (only one of them from the open bag - I believe they were Cool Ranch - had ended up on the floor, a much better ratio than the 23 donut holes that met their untimely and rather dirty floor-matted death that high school morning), sipped from my Dr. Pepper, and waited for the trooper.

The car was totaled that time. Three wrecks, just under six months. None of them my "fault." (Hydroplaning on a straight road when no other cars are involved is a no-ticket, no-fault accident).

So now, fifty thousand miles later, I've dinged the paint on both the front and rear bumpers of my car in the span of five days. I prefer not to think of the time last year when I learned firsthand why it is they teach you to parallel park in reverse and not going forward (eight hundred bucks damage to the passenger door and quarter panel, inflicted by the front bumper of an Explorer that wasn't even scratched in the process), but that was over a year ago and doesn't really count now. Ugh. I must be having a bad Mercury transit or something.

Anyway, these two will be visiting this weekend, so that will rock. I'm probably going to take Monday off (my manager will be gone all next week, so it's not like she can really say no) to maximize the hanging out time. I'm cooking dinner at my place Saturday. Fedward Brand Pizza, probably. It's been a long time since I've made the dough and sauce. The sauce is easy enough to reproduce, but it'll take some effort to get the dough right. I'm even thinking of maybe doing the dough Friday night and throwing it in the fridge, although I don't remember how much rise I have to account for if I do that. Hm.

Anyway, in preparation for the visit I spent last weekend doing a bit of cleaning. I picked up substantial amounts of clutter, washed all the laundry that had been piling up, folded all the towels and put them all away for the first time in maybe 8 months (I have far too many towels for a single person, and two spare laundry baskets that clean towels can stay piled up in almost indefinitely without needing to be folded), even washed and dried my old down comforter, and vacuumed. And decided, "hell with this," and I bought a new vacuum. It was the trip for the new vacuum that featured the first of the two fender bumps mentioned above.

The vacuum I bought isn't on the web anywhere (how can anybody not put something on the web in this day and age?) which is almost enough to keep me from buying it, but the one just like it is. Or you can see an actual photograph of the sister model as it's badged for sale in the states. But you can't see the photograph of the one I bought, as it's a Kenmore, and for some strange reason you can't buy it online. Whatever. It's black where that one's grey, it's dark blue translucent plastic where that one's light blue translucent plastic, but otherwise it's the same thing. It's not as way rad as the Dyson (can you tell I actually looked into this vacuum thing for a while? My sister's got a Dyson. It kicks ass) but I don't have to rewire my house for 220V power, so it's a tradeoff I can live with.

In cleaning just my living room I had to empty the canister once before I could finish. The sum total of cat hair and dirt picked up by this thing came to four canisters full (about two bags full for my old vacuum, if it worked that well, which it doesn't). And I'd even vacuumed recently with the other one. Sheesh. Anyway, I didn't sneeze once during all the vacuuming, it's quiet, it looks cool, and it's on sale at Sears until the end of the month. If you're in the market for a new vacuum, I recommend it.

The other domestic gadget I highly recommend is the Black and Decker Scumbuster. The first time you use it to scrub the tub, it'll be the best fifty bucks you ever spent.

(14 sep)