Wednesday, January 03
We bought a car! *squee*
That sucking sound you hear is my pitiful cash stockpile going down the drain.
But at least it's no longer my time going down the drain -- if I never see another used car lot again it'll be too soon -- and in the end both Dan and I are happy with the car we bought. It's not too old (a 98); it's not too high-milage (75K); Honda Civics have a good reputation; and the price was fair. My mechanic looked the car over and announced that not only could he find no problems with it, but the car showed every signs of having excellent care taken of it. So what the hell.
It's not perfect. I would have liked a car with a standard transmission. Dan would have liked something with a bit more design flair and attention to comfort, something that didn't scream "mid-income cookie-cutter car!" We both would have liked the price to be lower. But yanno, if we wait around for the perfect car... we're gonna be driving this buttfuck ugly gas-guzzling van for a looooong time.
(In the "Kat is shallow" category: it is a rather pretty shade of red, and it has a moonroof! *squee*!)
In other news, I made good on my decision to be better with the ol' meat puppet and went to the gym. And... ow. Just OW. I swam a single 100 meter leg of freestyle and I was *dying*. Okay, yeah, got the message, I'm out of shape, now STOP RUBBING IT IN.
An hour swimming and I racked up a measly 1200 meter total. Bah.
Amusing quote of the day: Dan, after my explanation and (brief) demonstration of the butterfly stroke, decides to try it for himself:
"I am a sea serpent who's stuck in place."
Swim geekery! Now that is life.
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 730 words.
Comments: So it's slow, painful progress when I thought I'd be able to fly. It's still progress. I'll take it.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: Fucking. Inability. To. Describe. (In related news: visual people? I hate you so, so much.)
Snips: News flash: Elliot is not really a nice person.
It was also empty. Listening, Elliot heard no footsteps, neither kin nor human coming to greet him. It occurred to him that, given the lack of response from the dome, Giles might not even know he was here and had likely rid himself of the kin that would ordinarily announce his presence.
Elliot smiled a predatory smile and set off down the hallway on light feet.
That sucking sound you hear is my pitiful cash stockpile going down the drain.
But at least it's no longer my time going down the drain -- if I never see another used car lot again it'll be too soon -- and in the end both Dan and I are happy with the car we bought. It's not too old (a 98); it's not too high-milage (75K); Honda Civics have a good reputation; and the price was fair. My mechanic looked the car over and announced that not only could he find no problems with it, but the car showed every signs of having excellent care taken of it. So what the hell.
It's not perfect. I would have liked a car with a standard transmission. Dan would have liked something with a bit more design flair and attention to comfort, something that didn't scream "mid-income cookie-cutter car!" We both would have liked the price to be lower. But yanno, if we wait around for the perfect car... we're gonna be driving this buttfuck ugly gas-guzzling van for a looooong time.
(In the "Kat is shallow" category: it is a rather pretty shade of red, and it has a moonroof! *squee*!)
In other news, I made good on my decision to be better with the ol' meat puppet and went to the gym. And... ow. Just OW. I swam a single 100 meter leg of freestyle and I was *dying*. Okay, yeah, got the message, I'm out of shape, now STOP RUBBING IT IN.
An hour swimming and I racked up a measly 1200 meter total. Bah.
Amusing quote of the day: Dan, after my explanation and (brief) demonstration of the butterfly stroke, decides to try it for himself:
"I am a sea serpent who's stuck in place."
Swim geekery! Now that is life.
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 730 words.
Comments: So it's slow, painful progress when I thought I'd be able to fly. It's still progress. I'll take it.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: Fucking. Inability. To. Describe. (In related news: visual people? I hate you so, so much.)
Snips: News flash: Elliot is not really a nice person.
It was also empty. Listening, Elliot heard no footsteps, neither kin nor human coming to greet him. It occurred to him that, given the lack of response from the dome, Giles might not even know he was here and had likely rid himself of the kin that would ordinarily announce his presence.
Elliot smiled a predatory smile and set off down the hallway on light feet.
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