While driving home the other night (it was fucking 70 degrees here people. Seriously) I had the driver’s side front window rolled down because I had been smoking. It wasn’t rolled all the way down, just about four inches or so. I rolled down the back windows too to get a cross breeze and air out the car.
Now I have to admit something. When I was wee I would watch people driving around in their cars, arm out the window, elbow propped on the frame and their hand resting where roof meets car door. I thought that was the coolest freaking thing ever. No clue why, just thought it was hip, daddy-o.
What? All the sudden I am Potsie?
I used to see my father... left arm out the white diesel Oldsmobile with a Salem Ultra Light, Menthol 100’s (baby) dangling from his long tan fingers. He’d be singing along to the Oakridge Boys and tapping his hand on the roof in time with the music. “Gettyup, ah, oom pah pah mow wow.” We’d be driving along, accompanying him on one of his million business trips.
The whole family got to go when it was summer.
I’d be in the back seat singing along ... “Hiiiiiii Ho SilVER Awayayaaaaaay!”
Shut up, we’re southern.
I’d roll down my window too (if you’re a smoker, you know that in a car this fucks up the smoke draft) and prop my elbow on the frame and try to reach my fingers to the roof. When that NEVER worked, I would roll the window up half way and then just kind of act like it was the same thing. Me, hanging by the roof of the car by a few bitty finger tips like some sort of malnourished spider monkey... my arm stretched all the way out because I was still too short to even come close to being shoulder height with the bottom of the window.
Now that I am all growed up, I still can’t reach the fucking roof when I prop my elbow out the window... I have to skootch forward or kind of lean so I can put my fingers on the slanty part where the windshield meets the door.
I feel like a T-Rex, my bitty little arms held in front of me, useless, groping and tipped with six inch long claws.
You are all aware of how cool I am right?
Let me take this to a whole ‘notheh ....leh-vel.
The other evening as I pulled up to a stop light I slipped my fingers out the four inch gap between the window and the roof and I was singing along to something. The left arrow turned green and for my hair’s sake, I decided to roll up the back windows so the cross draft wasn’t so... drafty.
Can someone get me a thesaurus up in here? Ah, thank you... change that last word in the paragraph above to breezy. K THX BAI!
All of the window buttons for my car are right at my fingertips, right next to the gear shift in the middle console. I reach out my right hand and push the buttons for the back windows to roll up.
You can see where I am going with this, right?
As I was going from a full stop to ease off the break to roll forward for my turn at the green arrow... I hit the wrong freaking button and I rolled my mother fucking fingers up in the window.
I panicked. I removed my right hand from anywhere near the buttons and made the left turn with my left fingers all smooshed in between the glass of the window and that black squishy extrusion seal thingy.
Following me? One back window rolled up a bit, the other back window still down because... well, I hit the button for the front window and squished my own fingers. It literally took me about seven seconds to be clear enough (from pain and panic... and fear of someone honking at me. “I don’t care if you rolled your fingers up in the damn window lady! Just move your car! That green arrow is not infinite YOU ASS! HOOOOOOONNNNKK!”) to just reach down with my right hand and push the button that would roll down the window to the driver’s door... ergo freeing my stupid hand.
I don’t know what I was thinking, but as soon as I rolled my fingers up into the window I became retarded. I was more worried about getting honked at and pushing the window up/down button the wrong way possibly severing my fingers and OMG! MY RINGS!
The fuck?
I successfully freed my hand, my rings are fine (both scratched/dented where the engagement ring met the wedding band in the convenient window smoosh) and the bruise on my left ring finger is finally gone.
It’s days like that when I am completely aware of what a jackass I am.
In other news. Mister and I went to weigh in and get our food for the next week on Saturday. Member? We called Jenny.
Mister lost 4 pounds... YAY!
I... uh, gained 7 ounces.
Seriously? Seriously.
Not sure how this works. I am on a 1500 calorie a day deal. But there is so much freaking food. I have trouble with getting it all in. But I GAINED... gained 7 ounces. That is almost half a pound in one week. So... at this rate I will be 26 pounds heavier next New Year.
AWESOME!