The accumulation & loss of cool points

Maybe you remember reading "Nobody does detective work like I do," where I told you about how some major jerk backed into my car in the parking lot and fled the scene of the crime without leaving their contact info. So then I had to do extensive detective work, which I am quite proud of, though I had to stop my investigation due to lack of access to Walgreen's computer system and the refusal of Knife River Construction to hand over their employee roster.

I never caught the culprit, but my car is in the shop getting fixed. For 9 days. My insurance policy doesn't cover rental cars, so I sweet talked my sister into letting me drive her car. I normally drive a '98 Toyota Corolla, so I gained a lot of cool points driving this:

What I didn't realize is that this car has like, twelve blind spots. You literally see nothing but seat and black frame when you turn your head to look over your left shoulder to switch lanes. It's a miracle I didn't side-swipe anybody. When I drove this car, I parked as far away from other people as I could, because I knew backing up would be an issue. But I looked cool, right?

I was supposed to get my car back on my birthday last Friday and pay my $300 deductible to the shop. Happy Birthday to me, right? Well I called the body shop and they told me it wouldn't be ready until Tuesday. I informed my sister of the situation and she was getting upset since she was driving her husband's truck 40 miles to work everyday and it was being a gas hog. So what I did was call my mom to see if she could help me out somehow. She kindly suggested I drive my grandma's old station wagon, which my father recently acquired for $1000. Nobody was actually driving it, so it would work out great. So now I'm driving this:

I call it The Wagon, of course, and any cool points I racked up from driving the silver coupe disappeared when I sat behind the wheel of this thing. At first I was like "No problem, I've got loads of disguises I can wear while I'm driving it." Then I realized that all my disguises are still in the glove box of my car, which is still at the shop, along with both pairs of my sunglasses. Everybody should really keep a few disguises in their car, in case they need to elude creepers or mafia members. Or in case you're trying to get really close to Robert Pattinson when he visits Seattle, which I have personally never done. 

So now I'm driving The Wagon, which has like, zero blind spots because it's all windows, which means everybody can see who is driving it. It's like a fish aquarium on wheels. I'm trying to just embrace it. I drove it for the first time on Sunday afternoon. It was all dusty inside, and the lights on the dash don't work, so I never know if I'm putting it into drive or reverse because I can't see. Thanks a lot, daylight savings. Also, you should know that I heard rumors of a mouse nest in the radiator or something (but my dad cleaned it out).

But the really great part about driving this station wagon is that my grandma left her Swiss polka cassette tapes in there. So I'm currently listening to "Echoes From Helvetia," which is fine, because my dad's side of the family has a very strong Swiss heritage. In fact, Echoes From Helvetia was copyrighted in 1998 by the Grossen Family Band and The Helvetia Alphorn Trio, who are my dad's cousins. No wonder that yodeling sounded so familiar.

The actual alphorn trio. I found this image on Google, not the family photo album.

These people are fully my relatives. They're getting ready for the Swiss Parade.

 Another feature of this vehicle is the blue handicapped parking window hanger that came with it. If I'm ever in a pinch to park, I can display that. It doesn't even expire until 2016. 

There I am, feeling a bit goofy sitting behind the steering wheel, mostly because it is as large as the wooden wheel that a sea captain might stand behind. Plus, I could fit like, ten people in the station wagon if I tried. Probably more.

I was driving to school and I thought to myself "I wonder if this is what my boss feels like everyday," because he totally has a white station wagon. We're like twins right now. Except that I'm not over 40 or balding. But I'm wondering if he gets as big of a kick out of driving his station wagon as I do. He probably doesn't, because he's not listening to Volksmusikanter while he's driving.

He's no longer bald

I have spent the majority of this weekend on my backside trying to breathe, blowing snot out of my nose, and reading. Glamorous life I lead, I know. I read two complete books this weekend, starting both on Saturday. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, 111 pages, by J.K. Rowling, and Ransom My Heart, 396 pages by Meg Cabot. I know the last one sounds like a trashy romance novel, but I liked it so you can shove it.

Basically, it is set in 1291 England and this tomboyish maiden sets out to hold a man for ransom so she can get money to pay for the wedding of her pregnant sister. She has quite an attitude and the knight that she ends up kidnapping falls in love with her. There's a lot of sarcasm, arguments, and a murder, but it turns out fine in the end.

Something that is on my mind: do you know anyone who was close to baldness, but then you saw them again sometime later, and they had a full head of hair? Take my seventh grade science teacher, for example. Mr. Purtyman (I swear that's his real name) had a very much so receding hairline, but I saw him again in tenth grade at a grocery store buying radishes and he had a full head of hair. Makes you wonder what sort of experiment he was mixing in the lab. Mr. Purtyman is not the only near-bald man I know who has magically sprung some new follicles. I know of at least two other men who had very thin hair, and then surprised me later with their luscious locks. I really want to ask them what happened. Did they try Rogain or something? Or is it really an illusion and they have all those little magnetic bits clinging to their hair to make it look full, and every night before they go to sleep they have to get a magnet and take it all off and put it in a little jar for safekeeping?

Spring break starts in two weeks. However, before that I have to hold conferences with the parents of my delightful students. I am so terrified of one in particular, that I foresee myself getting so angry that I will have to walk out of the classroom. I have already imagined/day dreamt the whole thing. After walking out fuming, I either go outside and lean against the cold brick walls and cry, or I hide in the darkened supply closet. God help me.