Changing a tire, in theory, sounds like a simple process. Jack up the car, remove the lug nuts, and pull off the tire. Then do everything in reverse with a new, not broken tire. Well, until confronted with the prospect of putting the theory into action today, I didn't know that I could actually do this. Now I know.

I rAwK.

Yes, people, I have changed my first tire at the tender, tender age of 34. It was quite a moment when I stood back and admired my handiwork. A woman on a bike rode past and said, "You go, girl," which, while lame and outdated, made me feel awesomer. A police officer walked by and told me to pat myself on the back. Which I did heartily. I could have been bitter at a society that doesn't expect a woman to be able to change her own tire, but I'm going to be honest for once and admit that I myself didn't think I could do it. My prejudice does come from prior experience, though.

Back when I was young and naive (during college), I was driving home on the highway when my front tire blew out. I pulled over to the side of the highway and managed not to kill anyone. This being the dark ages, I didn't have a cell phone to call my dad who is about the only person a college girl calls in moments like these. So, sitting on the side of the highway, I had to put a plan in action. There was an eight-foot fence that separated the highway from some office buildings that I could maybe climb over. I could head towards an office building, ask to use their phone and have my dad save me! Well, 2 out of 3 wasn't so bad.

I did climb over the wire fence, bloodying up both my palms. I made it to the office building and did call my dad....who was sleeping and didn't answer the phone. To be fair, he worked night shifts then and it was his normal bedtime (in the morning). I tried calling AAA, but since it wasn't my account, they wouldn't come help.

When I hung up the phone with the non-helpful AAA, a man in the office asked me where my car was. He told me he'd try to see if he could help me out. So off we went. He asked if I had a spare. I dunno, I had said in my best college girl voice. He dug under the car trunk and found it and proceeded to change the tire on the side of the busy highway.

But the man wasn't done yet! He noticed that the spare was a little flat so he told me to follow him to the nearest gas station. He filled it up with air for me while I stood around twirling my hair. I did have the wherewithal to thank him profusely and offer him money for his time and effort. He declined. I offered to buy him a soda and he declined again.

At that point, he told me that his daughter had a flat tire a few months ago and a stranger helped her out. He wanted to help me as a way of paying back the karma of the universe. He didn't ask me to do the same, but through my thick head, I understood that to be the underlying meaning.

So a few years later (omigod I will not end this post quick enough), my older brother and I drove past a weird situation on the highway. There was a large family pointing towards a car that was rolling away on the side of the road towards a large ditch. I told my brother to stop and see what we could do. The police hadn't arrived so we called 911. Then we offered my brother's cell phone (he got out of the dark ages way before me) to the owner of the rolling away car so she could call her husband. We waited until the fire trucks came and then we left.

I have no idea what the whole point of this rambling story is. Just that after all this time, I finally learned how to help myself. And even with my cold, cold heart, I think I'm still willing to help others.

Leaving work yesterday, I overheard:

Person #1: The weekend starts when I get on the elevator.
Person #2: No, not until the blender's turned on tonight.
Person #2's daughter: But mama, that was last night.

And last weekend, I was talking to a friend's cute 5 year old son about Star Wars which is one of his favorite movies.

Him: Bad guys always lose.
Me: No, Darth Vader won a lot. He killed Obi Wan Kenobi.
Him: Noooo, Obi Wan became part of the force.
Me: But Darth Vader killed him with the light saber.
Him: Keep looking... (as he pats my arm)

What did Chevron ever do to you hippies?

This photo was badly timed because I could have caught them directly in front of the Chevron sign, but I was too slow. They're heading next door to the BP to walk about in circles and maybe cause some havoc. Probably not.

In principle, I understand boycotting BP makes you feel like you're doing something effective against that evil corporation. And the people who claim that it's just hurting small business owners (the gas station owners) have to realize that we all make consumer choices every day. This is just another choice, albeit one that isn't based on solid fact. I don't know the specifics of their contracts, but here in Georgia, the stations aren't owned by the BP so it's probably minimal whatever profits are sent to the corporation. Still, these owners decided to do business with BP, a company with a ridiculous record of disregard for safety, and now they have to pay the consequences.

I personally will try to avoid stopping at a BP gas station, but since I only buy gas once a month, I'm thinking my actions will be negligible either way. And that's not something I can say about the stupid stuff I do everyday. Yay!

1. The victory garden is starting to show signs of potential production with the tomato plants blooming, the basil sprouting and everything else not dying yet. As is apparent, I'm immensely proud of myself for not being a complete failure at making little seeds do what they've done for millions of years.

2. I'm not into Facebook as I used to be. I was all gung-ho about updating my status and sharing links and crap like that for a while, but there's always been this inherent sense of competition in it for me. Not that I'm a competitive person. Well besides the fact that I always want to kick your ass and I will destroy you... What was I saying? Oh yes, I felt like I needed to get more FB friends and more comments on my postings and all that self-inflicted competition got to me. So I've turned to Twitter where I can say the stupidest crap and not care if a single person reads it because I don't expect any responses. I'm trying to get back to FB, though. You see, over the weekend, I've found out that I have a few fans and when my head gets big like that, I crave more more more and become (more) unbearable.

3. For the 6th time in 7 years, I have a new cubicle/office in my building. I've gone from 28 -> 7 -> 32 -> 29 -> 28 -> 24. There is currently no one around me in my entire corner of the floor and you'd think I'd be lonely, but I call it fantastic. Evidently, people have taken notice of my quirkiness and finally put me somewhere where I don't have to interact with them.

4. Pommeau, the most delectable of Norman apple concoctions, has made its way to several Atlanta restaurants. In theory, this means that it can make its way into package stores and then into my house. I'm on a quest to make that happen and when that does, I'll be drunk.

Dear Internet,

You're hiding something from me. I know it. I'm usually good at ferreting out your hidden gems because I'm a pro at using search engines. Seriously, some schmuck used to pay me to do just that. But I'm on a quest to find the answer to one of my life's riddles and I'm having no luck. Are my searching skills diminishing with age? Doubtful. I'm not even middle-aged yet which is when you start to lose control of bodily functions. I'm still in control!

So why can't I find the elusive website out there that instructs everyone who has some get-quick-rich scheme to design his/her own website as one rambling long-ass webpage? I would cite examples, but #1, I'm not a damn lawyer so I don't know what "cite" means, and #2, I don't want to drive more traffic to these abominations of the Internet. Also, #3, I'm not interested in appearing credible to anyone.

But in fairness to anyone reading this who finds my words tougher to comprehend than a New Englander (seriously, why do y'all talk like that?), here is some visual proof. This will help me not have to drone on and on describing it later so thank your lucky stars.

• http://www.cureforbruxism.com
• http://restaurantpitfallsandprofits.com
• http://www.playpianotonight.com

Don't click on them more than once! In fact, just pick one and you'll get the idea. So, are you done yet? Jesus, don't read the whole damn thing. COME ON, I have plants to water and pet.

Oh hey, you're back. So you get what I'm saying? What god forsaken web "guru" is out there telling people who have something to sell that:

• users won't know how to click on links so keep all your rambly words on one page, no matter if they need to scroll down for days;
• write as if you're Ron Popeil; no, BE Ron Popeil;
• use exclamation points as if they're going out of style;
• ask questions to empathize with whatever problem you're trying to solve but don't answer a single damn one;
• offer your product at the very, very bottom of the long-ass page for less than $20; hell, everyone's got at least $20 to spend on...things!

I'm fixated on there being one guru or one all-knowing website that's spouting all this advice out because I refuse to believe that hundreds or thousands of people would come up with web design that looks this similar and this crappy. I mean, the rest of the Internet looks like...

• Geocities
• Live Journal
• MySpace

Oh.

I'm giving too much credit to humandkind, aren't I? My mistake. Sorry, Internet. Carry on.

Sincerely,
Yen

I admit to telling everyone else that, "Just because you can doesn't mean you should," but I've never told myself that. And that's how I ended up posting to my blog from my phone. For a browser on a phone, this is pretty fantastic, but I'm sitting right in front of my laptop with its regular human size keyboard and I still insist on typing this post with one finger on my phone. This phone is btw the nexus one I was crying about a few weeks ago. I would review it but I think everyone else on the internet beat me to it.

It's the Year of the Tiger!

Look, I'm not one to judge...no, wait, I do judge, but I'm also a hypocrite because I'm trying to use Twitter more for absolutely no reason. I just think you should know what I'm doing and you should know it often. It's not like I'm snapping photos of every damn thing in front of me and posting it on Facebook. Jesus, people. You know who you are.

Well, not until I get a smartphone, anyway. I have my beady eyes on the Nexus One (i.e., Google Phone), but damn Google and/or T-Mobile for making it impossible for Family plan customers to upgrade. There's actually a work-around that I found on the interwebs, but I don't like work-arounds very much. I like things handed to me on a silver platter.

...which brings me to my point! Just kidding, I don't have a point to this. I'm just bored because I set my laptop ac adapter on fire this morning so I can't use it to build a new website that currently top-secret but will soon be something I can't stop talking about. How exactly am I posting this pointless post, then? It's the craziest thing: I don't know.

This will be my 3rd ac adapter for the same laptop, although only the first that I've destroyed by flame. Oh yeah, I was talking about the Nexus One and how much I want it. I never got into the iPhone and I don't even use my current dumb phone all that much. But I can only charge it in the car nowadays and the battery doesn't hold its juice so I need a new one. Why not get the newest new one there is?

I actually have other superficial reasons for wanting it, including the built-in GPS app. Even though my inner compass is freaking amazing and always spot-on, it doesn't come with an updated map so this GPS unit would be handy for traveling. I've also been in the market for a small pocket camera and this would fit the bill. And that's all the reasons I have. I'll get it soon when Google comes to its senses and actually wants to sell the phone to more than a few thousand people instead of just telling themselves how great they are.

I have a two part story that may be the greatest thing you hear all day or this hour so you don't want to miss this.

Part One: As expected, I had my weekly injury in the kitchen last Wednesday. It's a burn about two inches long on my right forearm. I've been making myself jumpy the past few days because I think there's something alive on my arm (like a bug). This was really good for my heart while working in the creepy attic over the weekend. Let's just say I know how to have a good time.

Part Two: I drove home today in my usual way: singing along with Isabelle, using my turn signals 300 feet before turning and generally being a courteous, exceptionally gifted driver. Normal and all until I noticed a stick bug staring at me from the dashboard! I stopped singing (can't multi-task) and kept an eye on the bug until it started to crawl towards me. Then I screamed, picked up my messenger bag and threw it at the bug. The bug got pushed to the other end of the dashboard and then started to turn slowly towards me again. Seriously, it had it out for me. I was frozen...until it FLEW at my head. I flailed my arms, lowered the passenger window, screamed again and possibly drove the car into other lanes. It's all a blur.

Well, after that I lowered some other windows. Did I mention that it was raining? It was raining. I kept my eyes on the road and didn't even want to know if it actually flew out of the car or if the damn bug landed somewhere on me. I could only see something on my right forearm that was either the bug...or my burn mark.

I drove the last two miles home in an awkward state and as soon as I pulled into the driveway, I jumped out of the car and did a hysterical dance to make sure the bug wasn't on me. I'm almost positive one neighbor was watching, but thankfully the rain kept the others from being too nosey. Then I checked the car and found it under my car seat.

My story temporarily ends with a Raid can in one hand and a little bit of common sense in my brain telling me that spraying poison in my car will just make me sick and maybe not the bug. Well, we'll see...

I've been MIA for several weeks now and of the two of you who've noticed, probably only one of you is happy that I'm back. I'm okay with that.

You see, since that great American holiday called Fourth o' July, we've been on a house-hunting adventure. If we made it into a movie, it'd be a blockbuster summer hit, not a boring artsy winter Oscar contender. For one, Cylinda and I speak really weirdly to each other and the lack of good dialogue is absolutely necessary for a blowed up action flick.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that this is a process. I know you know I wasn't really, but I'm ignoring you and my feeble non-functioning brain right now. Buying a house, writing a blog post: all processes that deserve my full attention. I have never been capable of multi-tasking. Honestly, I can't even walk and chew gum at the same time. I tried when I played sports in high school, but I choked a lot....a lot.

So we're about to come to the end of the house adventure with a closing that's about to happen very soon unless I just jinxed it by talking about it. I have extremely bad luck like that.

I did want to mention that I had lots of things to share over the past month and a half, but I reached dizzying levels of laziness that all I can do right now is list them:

• the sauna that is my office because of leaking anti-freeze
• fantasy football
• HGTV
• leftover surprise recipes
• Dragon*Con
• listening to my ipod songs (reluctantly)

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