Thursday, January 22, 2004

Broken brake. Fixed brake. Fixed me. Broke me.



OK, so I'm thinking that maybe I shouldn't have gotten my brakes fixed. Maybe it would've been easier if I'd just left them squeaking, then gotten a new car at the point where the old Saturn became inoperable.

Because today I spent over $700 - money that I don't really have right now - to fix a problem that apparently was far worse than I thought it was. And now, though my brakes no longer squeak, I feel like I have to floor the pedal if I want to stop the car. What's up with that? I mean, I'm no mechanic, but shouldn't there be resistance when I put my foot on the brake?

This stuff happens. Life is wonderful and terrible like that. It's like I didn't have a car payment, then suddenly had to pay two of them at once.

I have two jobs. I have stuff that I can return and sell back. I can pick up hours at the bookstore. This will solve itself. No, this won't solve itself. I'll solve it.

Some good news though.

Van, the editorial assistant for "Southern Voice" previously mentioned a couple times on the blog, read my essay, "The Domino Effect," and he told me that I should submit it as a potential op-ed column for SOVO.

I then showed Van "Anti-Christ Love Song," which is titled that way incidentally because Lupo told me that I sounded like the Anti-Christ if I was scaring tiny dogs and turning straight men gay. And Van told me that I may want to submit columns to SOVO regularly.

I told him that I'd edit "The Domino Effect" through, then resubmit it. I mean, I have no problem with getting my stuff out there. But I think if I keep in the "Fuck gay pride" sentiment in the piece, a bunch of queens might just lynch me. I'm thinking instead of the softer, nicer sentiment of "Screw gay pride."

Anyway, if you call me today, I may be out returning items I bought yesterday at a store ... or standing in line for food stamps. I don't know.

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