You know Murphy? He's my bud.

Oh what a day! What a fucked up, fantastic, awful, glorious day! It all started with blog fodder from the Punk and continued into one long drawn out post that practically wrote itself. I actually kind wished it had written itself, cuz typing it all out? It's a bitch.

So today was picture day at Punk's school and I usually volunteer for it because...$35 credit for volunteering, yo! Which comes in handy since those damn pictures packages are like fifty fucking bucks, dammit. I was trying to figure out what to do with her hair since her cute little short cut has grown out enough that it isn't as cute any more and I was wanting the 'Haley Mills-Parent Trap' do and was getting the 'I just stole Bozo The Clown's look' do. So I took a squirt bottle and tried to wet her hair down so I could comb it back and hope for the best or at least a 'I'm trying too hard for a Princess Di' do. I sprayed her and got an immediate..."Hey! That's cold, Mommy! I don't like this! Don't touch me! Go away! You're mean!"

I was all apologetic to her and was going to resign myself to having her wear her Cinderella crown for the picture to detract from her out of control hair, then I realized I couldn't be a bad mom by sending my daughter out into the coldness that is Florida right now with a wet head. So I drag her into the bathroom kicking and screaming trying to convince her that she will look great and the hair dryer is nice and warm and PLEASE ALREADY THE BUS IS OUTSIDE! So we went into the bathroom and I was able to not only blow dry her hair in like less than a minute (it's thin) but I got rewarded with a little toss of her hair and a "How do I look, Mommy? Am I fabulous?"

I assured her that she was indeed absolutely beautiful and fabulous and I loved her look. She then took the blow dryer from me and asked me to turn so she could use it on me. I asked her how I looked and she replied, "You are the most beautifullist in the whole wide land, Mommy!"

Right on!

So I load her up on the bus, fully intending on going to the very same place, but she just does better in the morning at school when I am not around. I putz around the house a little and finish making a pair of earrings I was working on since last night. Glad I did, cause not only did I get a lot of compliments today, but I passed out like 8 business cards. Woot! Business! Maybe. Anyway...this is what they looked like....

So I get ready to head out and I climb into quasi-new mini van and turn the key and "wah-wah-wah I don't want to start for you on this unusually cold Florida morning so you can suck my carburetor if you don't like it!" Damn. Double Damn. Let's try that again. "wah wah wah...vroom. OK, you win, but I am going to act funky all 2 miles down the road, plus that high pitched whine that you have been hearing since you bought me? Gonna make that noise louder for ya just to show you who's the boss in this relationship. So there."

Because this is the normal imaginary conversation that I have with my car. Usually. Sometimes. OK, well this is the first imaginary conversation that I have had, but hey! My Mom thinks I's special. And my kid. Um...eh-hem...moving on.

So I will spare you the semi-boring details of getting started with the volunteering for the picture day and skip right to the hunky, gorgeous, totally hot photographer. Mmmmm. Mancake. Yummy. I am all helping and stuff and when we hit a lag between classes he started chatting me up about my Pink Floyd shirt that I was wearing. (Cause, that's my goal and all...to get men by luring them in with Pink Floyd shirts. Do it all the time since I own like 4 different shirts and never fail to get a compliment. The boobs that make the decorations really stand out help. So maybe it has nothing to do with Pink Floyd and everything to do with tatas. Whatever. I stick with what works.) As we are talking he asks my name and I tell him. I ask his and he tells me...Tony. Tony Figs. I laugh because I thought he was kidding. I told him that sounded like a mob name. He laughed and said he gets that all the time. To make things even better? He is a New York Italian/Puerto Rican. Tall, dark and handsome with an accent. Hello Jello knees!

So we hit it off. Really off. Out of this world off. OK...so not really, but we had a great chat. (While I was mentally doing shameful things to him in my imagination.)

I had to sing to gets the kids to smile at one point, and the whole "audience" of kids, teachers, helpers and volunteers thought I was terrific. Got lots of compliments on my voice. Blush. Tony gave me a high 5. Bigger (bliss) blush. I remembered all the words to the Little Einstein's theme song. I SO ROCK!

So Tony and I continue to chat while he packs up his equipment (his photo stuff in case any of you have dirty minds like me) and we get to know a little about each other. I give him my number. While he lives in Orlando, and I live in Jacksonville, I fully plan on visiting Orlando often in the near future with my Disney season pass to escape the torturous hell that is the FCB working from home, now. So maybe, hopefully...in a magical land far, far away...there will be a hot, sweaty, much needed...ahem...hook-up. Hey, a girl can always dream right? "A dream is a wish....your loins make...."

OK. Back to the Murphiness that was my day. So I go out to the mini van after I am done and the fucker wouldn't start. Wouldn't even turn over. So I pulled out the manual and tried to troubleshoot. No luck. No start. Damn. Double damn. Triple damn. Fuck. Then I had to call the FCB to come give me a jump. But does he do that? Nope. He brings tools to take the battery out so we can take it to Pep Boys and have the battery tested and charged. Pep Boys guy said? Not the battery. Well fuck a duck. Can this day get any better? So we managed to get the battery back to the van and the van over to Honda. Because of course it started right up with the "nothing's wrong with your battery, it is probably the alternator" battery back in it. I swear we could have saved an hour and a half by just giving me a jump. Live. Learn. Moving on.

The coolest part about that hour and a half though? All those faculty members that were shooting me dirty looks for flirting with the photo guy, were probably tongue wagging all afternoon about me conveniently not being around while my van was in the parking lot. They were probably imagining that I was doing what I imagined what I was doing with Tony in the back of some car or nearby hotel. Hehehehehehe. I love to stir the pot. Those uppity bitches can kiss my ass. Anyway.

So once at the dealership, I pulled into the bay and got out and stood there. Waiting. And waiting. Finally, a service tech came up to me and asked me if I could be helped in a sarcastic and disdainful way after eyeing the van up and down with my choice of decorations. I wanted to tell him to suck my dick, but unfortunately I forgot it at home and therefore was subjected to the "Little lady" attitude that most men working at a dealership here in the south must genetically possess in order to completely belittle anything without a penis that walks through the door. I proceeded to tell him all the problems that were going on. I made sure to mention at least 25 3 times that the high pitched whine that had been going on since I bought the thing was getting even louder and more annoying. He started writing and stopped listening to me at that point, even though I was still trying to describe the problems.

I then made the mistake of telling him that the van was under warranty and asked if it would be covered. He looked at me like I was a stupid cow and said, "You have over 89,000 miles on this van...there is no more warranty."

I assured him there was and I had purchased and paid good money for a full warranty on the sucker and he once again looked at me like I had eight heads that were all speaking Chinese. Fucker.

I hate that these guys act like I know nothing, nor can I ever comprehend anything that has to do with a vehicle simply because I lack a brain between my legs. HA! Not only do I have a brain between my legs, it is smart enough to have crawled up inside me to get out of the cold! Sexist Bastard.

Once the computer was checked and I slightly improved my believability by dropping the name of the finance guy that sold me the extended warranty, Tiny the Tech said that he would call when they knew something. I came home and checked my paper work as well as called the warranty company to confirm my coverage. (My brain's bigger that yours is, Tiny. FCB said I need to pack the biggest dick I own in my purse so that the next time I go to the dealership I can just whip that bad boy out so I will be taken more seriously. Bwahaahahahaha!) As of this afternoon, Tiny Tech called to say that the battery was fine (duh) but they were going to try cold starting it tomorrow morning as well as further investigation into the whining noise.

If they keep my car longer than tomorrow? So going to get a courtesy vehicle. Maybe I can try out a Fit. So that was my day. The good, the hot hunky good, the bad, the worse, and the asshole. All in a day's adventure for me. Like I said before, at least the day was a rolling buffet of blog fodder. We'll see what tomorrow brings. Oh, and Murphy? So totally my main man. Cause everything that could, did.