Sell me your car, Logan

I've been in the market for a new car for a couple of weeks now.  I hate looking for cars and I am so over this frustration and irritation. With each salesman, I want to grab each of them and throw them into oncoming traffic. Do you think they could still try and sell me a car older than mine and with more mileage with their heads caved in?
Today pretty much topped my least favorite days on my quest for a car that is worth it. I have a friend who has some serious connections in Logan.  We went up there today and I brought a little hope with me.
The test driving experience was less than golden. The first car I test drove was a Scion XD. It's not my dream car nor is it anything that I could ever "love" or learn to love. It was a good drive though and I enjoyed myself until we hit the train tracks.  I paused the car at the first stop sign before the train tracks and as I was moving forward the car stopped half way on the train tracks
My friend, Takara, looks over at me, "Go, Michelle..."  I press my foot all the way to floor on the gas and it doesn't move.  The salesman suggests turning the car off and then back on- the car still doesn't start. We ran out of gas on my first test drive in the middle of a train track.
After a half hour wait and realizing this car is not agreeing with me, we are back at the dealership.  The next test drive is for a newer Camry.  After getting into the car, the engine doesn't turn over and lights are out--the battery is dead.
My frustration and exhaustion grows. My life is epic and maybe I'm not meant to be happily driving a new car..Maybe my car, "Henry-Peter", is my curse. Too bad I don't remember what I did so badly in my last life to deserve this.



As you can see, it's one o'clock in the morning. I'm up and typing blogs. This blog is my funny story blog. My current situations are not funny right now at all.
Work is always interesting in a call-center environment. I'm not actually on the phones but I see so many people come in and out. I meet so many "interesting" people.  The kind of people you could only meet at a call-center: men with green hair and large ear gauges, women with twitches, greasy hair, and probably holes in their arms, old desperate people that break my heart and young people who think they have the world at their fngertips and that Census will change the world.
In my area, working quality, I interact with people more to my liking.  I have attracted an interesting group of friends and people Two married men (one with two adorable kids); a little bit of a "grossie" who is more interested in me than I will ever be, a tall guy in HR who I was crushing on until he got a girlfriend, and a 7 month pregnant Polynesian woman. These people are so fantastic and the conversations we have could change the world, or at least solve world hunger. So there's my amusing, shout-out to my co-workers.


Crashing rental cars

They say when you come close to dying that your life flashes before your eyes. Maybe I wasn't close to death, but my new pet goose egg on the side of my head looks more like evidence of survival than coincidence. Only minutea before, i lay across the back seat, trying to catch sleep from the night before. I lazily slid my feet behind the driver, whining. The light was green, we drove through and got t-bones by a blonde girl in pinstripe black business pants. My first thought as I saw her heading to my window was, "she is going to stop, right?" impact was quick and like the worst part of a roller coaster, when you rock back and forth grinding heavily to a stop. My next thought, "these Air bags suck" as I rolled up the car door and smacking the window first before they popped out.--a little late.
My phone has been dead all day and I can't find a charger. Right now my fellow travelers are talking to family and/or friends. Im sitting outside, wwondering if we will make it back to Utah. I'm wondering if that would be a bad thing. My ok would miss me, but am I accomplishing anything. I'm scared and I am tired of taking so much responsibility. We see mark tomorrow and I'm so stoked to see my little brother. I just wish he was here now because I know that he would tell me not to worry, and mean it. It's almost like that scene from the car. Where I'm scared the air bags won't go off. Mark is an airbag; he takes me in my weak fear and tells it's ok to be scared, but I shouldn't be scared cause he is there to save my shattering skull. Like our transport, mark is just a rental. He won't be there to remind me of strength forever