Friday, June 17, 2011

I have a new Gypsy Wagon!

No, I don't mean that I have a REAL Gypsy Wagon:
 Although I would LOVE one of these because how cool is this thing?  If I lived on a large property, meaning just a bit more than the 6,000 square foot lot my house in the 'burbs sits on now, I would have one of these and use it as either a guest room or my own little sanctuary.  A place I could just chill out in and maybe read some taro cards or peer into my crystal ball and yes, I really do have a crystal ball.  Quartz crystal, not lead.  Although I don't actually have any taro cards.  Yet.  Sorry.


In case you're wondering, my family calls me, "Gypsy" and my car is the Gypsy Wagon.


And Original.


As you may have read previously, I've been going through a bit of a car saga.  My old Gypsy Wagon, a leased 2008 Saturn Vue is getting returned and TheManTheMyth and I had different ideas for a new Gypsy Wagon.  He says "Used" and I said, "New."

And since he's the Breadwinner of the Family, he gets his way.

So I found an acceptable "previously owned" vehicle and yesterday we went to purchase said vehicle.  Which was at a dealership.  Because they offered better interest rates than the bank would if we did a private sale/purchase.


TheManTheMyth looked at the car I had found and thought it was acceptable.  

Then he took it for a test drive.

And was Not That Impressed.

But since this was to be MY Gypsy Wagon, he shrugged and said, "Well, if you're okay with it..." and while it wasn't my first choice for a car and did not have my beloved satellite radio, I could live with it.

So while our Sales Guy was running my credit report, we wandered around the lot, looking at the New Cars to pass the time.

New cars.  Which TheManTheMyth had said a big, fat "NO!" to.  And do you like how I ended that sentence in a preposition?


We're looking at the new cars and TMTM says, "Why didn't you look at these?  These are nicer!" as he points to a certain car.

And I remind him of his "We aren't getting a new car!  You don't need a new car!" vow.

And he says, "But this is better than THAT car, it has way more room inside.  And more headroom.  This is better." 

And I say (while hoping against hope), "But you told me we aren't getting a new car!"

And he looks at me, then looks at the New Car and says, "But these are better."  And for a split second, I thought he was going to say, "But these go to Eleven" and 10 points for anyone who gets that.

We looked at the sticker price then looked at each other and then looked at the sticker price again.

And then our Sales Guy comes out with my credit report (which was excellent, thank you very much) and says, "Let's go do the paperwork on (used vehicle)."

And TMTM points to the new car and says, "We want this one instead."

Behold!  The New Gypsy Wagon!
Okay, so it's not a real wagon; it's a Chevy.  And pay no attention to the fat broad making the sweeping gesture.  It was a long day and I was tired when my sister took this picture and my hair looks like crap.

But my new Gypsy Wagon has satellite radio, which the used car did not, Bluetooth, which the used car did not, the LoJack system, which neither the used car nor my Saturn did not and it gets kick-ass gas mileage, which my Saturn most assuredly Did Not.  And it came with a full tank of gas, which is always appreciated and I am absolutely giddy at the though of not having to fill up on a weekly basis.

How did I not see that I'd get a new car.  I have a crystal ball.  I should have seen this coming.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Random stuff because I'm awake at 5:30am

So today is the first day of Summer Vacation, which means I don't have to get up at 6:00am for the next few months.

Which is why I've been wide awake since Dark:00am.  Because the goddamn yapdog next door has been yapping it's high pitch, shrill yap since 4:30am and Ima go and punt that thing if it doesn't shut the fuck up.  Why yes, it IS a Chihuahua, how did you know?

So I'm laying there, listening to this non-stop yapping, asking myself, "WHY ME, LORD?" and TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 leave for work after making as much noise as possible and turning on as many lights as possible and I'm all, "I can go back to sleep now" but no, Petunia (of COURSE that's the name of the dog.  Which is a male.  Go figure) continues to yap and yap and yap and yap and this whole time, Gracie Lou is comatose on her back in the middle of the bed, completely oblivious to the yapping dog next door and I finally threw in the towel and got out of bed.

For the last few weeks, I've been waking up at Buttcrack O' Dawn, even when I don't need to and who is getting more than a little pissed about it?  This gal.  I don't know if it's a menopause thing, a "too much on my mind" thing or a goddamn fucking dog that won't shut the fuck up thing.

Or a combination of all 3.  All I know is that there have been a few times I've been up before TMTM and he's all, "What are YOU doing up?  Oh.  Well, since you're up, clean the house, wash your car."

Um, no.

Instead, I'm checking my e-mails, messageboards, Facebook, Damn You Auto Correct, which is guaranteed to make whatever you're drinking come shooting out of your nose because it's THAT FUNNY and to continue to shop for a lightly-used vehicle.  Because despite my massive slip of the tongue moment the night before, I made it quite clear to TMTM that we are not keeping my car and that if he wants to pay money for a gas guzzler, there are much cheaper SUVs out there because dealers are practically paying YOU to buy those these days.

And late last night, I went back to the dealer website of the car I've been looking at and saw that they just dropped the price another $1500.00 and why yes, I went and woke up TMTM to tell him that.  So I'll be calling the dealer this morning to go and have a look-see.  Wish me luck there.

Okay, who is absolutely glued to their seat over the Stanley Cup Finals?  This has been the most exciting Stanley Cup and I love that it's come down to Game 7 except that throughout the series, the home team has won each game and tonight's game is in Vancouver and well, I'm kind of cheering for Boston.  But Thing 2 is pulling for the Canucks so watching the games has been full of quaint expressions such as "SUCK ON THAT!" and "LOSER!" and "#WINNING!!" and things might get rather ugly tonight.  And of course, no matter who ends up hoisting the Cup, I'll get all teary-eyed and need a tissue, which is pronounced, "tis-syew" for dramatic purposes.

Well, Petunia has stopped his infernal yapping but now there's a murder of crows outside, screeching and cawing and circling and screeching and cawing and it's times like these I wish I had a sling shot.

It's drizzling outside right now.  And why did I have to include the word "outside" in that statement?  It's not like it's drizzling INSIDE.

I'm going back to bed.


Tuesday, June 14, 2011

My Big Fat Gypsy Mouth

Please tell me you've seen that show on TLC, "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding."  If you haven't, you are missing something, well...mind-boggling.  And I am hooked like a fish.

Normally, I don't watch shows on the channel that inflicted the Gosselins, the Duggars and that moron attention whore from Alaska on the American People but when I saw a blurb for BFGW, I  knew that this would definitely be Must See TV.

And it's been All That AND a Caravan of Chips.

The first time I had heard of Gypsy/Traveller Weddings was when someone sent me an article about a 16 year Traveller girl's wedding and it was so over the top, I was trainwreck fascinated.  And knew I must learn more.

If you haven't seen the show, well, you are missing out is what I'm saying.  It's like Jersey Shore without the drinking, the sex, the profanity and, well, the cast of Jersey Shore.

Instead, we get to see 16 year old girls getting married in these absolutely flabbergasting dresses

There was even a bride who had a light up dress!  You can't make this shit up!
Must haves for a Gypsy teen bride include gallons of spray tan, false eyelashes, gobs of makeup and lots and lots of skin showing:


I love this show.

In other news, I've mentioned a time or two that the lease on my gas-guzzling 2008 Saturn Vue (15 mpg city, people) is coming to an end this Sunday and who is more excited to see the last of that car?  This gal.

However, it has been a bone of contention between TheManTheMyth and myself to the point my eye has been twitching like crazy, something that only happens when I am REALLY stressed and livid.

After sending me out to test drive various new cars over the last month or two, TheManTheMyth then informed me that no, I would not be getting a new car, that I didn't NEED a new car and that we (he) would not be spending any money on a new car when a cheap old used car would be perfectly adequate.

Cheap.  Old.  Used.  Car.

Exsqueeze me?

Baking powder?

Let's just say I had to leave not only the room but the house when he made that pronouncement because I needed to go and punch a tree instead of punching my husband, that's how pissed I was.

What *I* have in mind:

What *HE* has in mind:
So I'm fuming and seething and I vent to my sisters, who both agreed that I had every right to be upset.
But a couple of days later, I calmed down and went back into research mode and found a couple of lightly used sedans that I deemed suitable.  And I printed up the information and left it sitting on my desk while I ran errands.
TheManTheMyth just *happened* to see the info sitting there on my desk and he was much more inclined towards these cars than buying a brand new car and told me to look into it, that he was good with my choices.

And I'm all, "Whew!" because I had visions of him coming home with a Brand New 1976 Tomato Red Saab and saying, "Look honey!  Your new car!" 

Which actually happened.  My dad came home one day, in 1976, with the ugliest car in the ugliest Tomato Red color we had ever seen  and presented it with a flourish while we were all, "What the hell is THAT?"


We're talking about the price of these cars I had picked out and whether or not we could get an even better price because one of the cars is at a dealership where I could turn in my leased Saturn and we're talking and I'm thinking, "Yay, I'm actually going to get a car I won't cringe at every time I have to get behind the wheel" when I had to open my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth and everything came to a screeching halt.

Me and my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth just HAD to mention the buy-out price of my Saturn, which is $3,000 less than the cars I put forth for his consideration.  And even as the words were coming out of my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth, the voice in my head was screaming, "Shut up.  Shut. Up. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

Did I listen to that voice telling me to shut the fuck up?

That would be "No."

And TMTM says, "If it's only that much, then we'll just keep your car" and I'm all, "No no no nononononononononono.  NO!!" at the same time I'm asking myself, "When will you learn to keep your Big Fat Gypsy Mouth shut, ya dipshit!"

And I sputtered and said stoutly, "We are NOT KEEPING MY CAR!  It gets TERRIBLE gas mileage!  I go through a tank of gas a week!" and TMTM says, "Well, you don't drive anywhere and it's probably a small tank" and I show him proof that a) I do drive enough to go through a tank of gas a week and 2) it's got a 19 gallon tank and he says, "Well, just don't drive so much" and that, Your Honor, is why he needed killing.