I'm not going to try to explain how I came across this, but I can't wrap my mind around how 16 people think this is something worth bidding on. Here's a link: Strange on Ebay
After checking our mailbox 3 times a day since some time last week.. and only finding unwanted credit card offers and useless bills for most of that time, I got the letter I've been waiting for...
I passed part 2 of the national boards.
whew. One requirement down. A few to go.
I had to share this (via popsci.com)
The first commandment for dental students is "Thou Shalt Not Break Thy Hands."
I think the second commandment has something to do with what happens after you sneeze.
The rest are pretty hazy.
I broke the first commandment.
I drove through a big puddle the other night on the Bee St. River. I stopped and watched several small cars make it through, so I figured the TT would be fine if I kept it near the middle of the road.
I did not notice the stalled car on the far side of the "puddle."
We made it through without killing the engine.
But when I tried to go out earlier tonight, the clutch was stuck engaged whether I pushed the pedal to the floor or not. After trying in vain for a little while and pouting for the rest of the night over the need to take my baby to the shop....
I came across this little tid-bit from somebody who has suffered the same fate:
With some newfound hope, I went out and abused my starter, clutch, transmission, and most laws regarding red lights. I'm pretty sure somebody called me in for drunk driving.
On the plus side, I learned to powershift.
After about 15 minutes and 5 jerky laps around the block while wrestling a car out of control--I had my first glimmer of hope: a little stuttered a little when I pressed in the clutch and released it quickly. A couple more attempts and I was golden.
I guess one of the plates rusted to the other. I don't know. I can't quite figure out how this all fits together.
I'm never going down that end of Bee St. again without first caulking my wagon to ford the river.
We're here in T-town.
We spent the night at the University Church of Christ. Nice people. Smart thinking--build a church with showers. Maybe that's how churches should be built--not as ornate worship halls, but as practical facilities--shelters.
Maybe a lot of folks would say not.
We had moderate success today. 3 wins and a loss.
An early loss tomorrow would send us home. I have mixed feelings. I miss being home. I like winning.
In a few hours, I'm going to jump in my car and head to Tuscaloosa for an ultimate frisbee tournament with some of the guys from Harding--most of whom I haven't seen for quite some time.
I'm cautiously optimistic. I hope have haven't lost too much of my speed or talent. I also hope that it'll be fun, because this is a long drive to not have fun.
I'll be leaving this afternoon for North Augusta, where Paul will jump in the car (and hopefully drive), and we'll proceed to the University CofC in Tuscaloosa.
I think I'm most excited about a side trip to Moody, where we'll stop in to see Tom and Mary Beth.
On the road...
****Note: all parties involved in this story may not recall the events I am describing as having occurred exactly as portrayed.
I am cheap. In fact, I am almost as cheap as I am impulsive.
Because of this little character flaw, I hate going to the grocery store. It's a constant battle. I think the grocery store is my toy store. I walk down the aisles and say, "I want that... and that.. this too. OH, and one of those... no, I'll take two."
But I am cheap. So I don't buy any of those things. And instead go for the grits and cheap-o store brand wheat squares and some 1% milk because it's cheaper than whole milk.
But on occasion, impulse wins out.
I was surfing craigslist when I saw my next impulse purchase: An audi tt with a manual transmission. Cool. I wanted it.
So I started to make deals--only I was the salesman.
"Sweetheart... if you'll let me buy this car, then I'll do the dishes all next week."
"I like that shirt. You look really nice today."
not a chance.
"If you'll let me buy this car, I'll sell my motorcycle."
A glimmer of hope.
When my bride and I were dating, I made the mistake of saying that I loved my motorcycle.... months before I ever told Amber the same thing. She's had a little envy of that little machine ever since. She got a little curious enjoyment out of the motorcycle, but she mostly regarded its presence in the parking lot like she would an ex girlfriend who shows up every week for Monday Night Football.
As of now, I'm banned from craigslist. Amber says so.
But I also got my car. And I ditched the bike.
The battery was on the fritz when I bought the car. Leaving the lights on didn't help matters one bit. Amber showed up and gave me a jump.
I took the car home and got to work changing the battery.
I did some head scratching.
And gave a few confused looks.
Then did some more head scratching.
And I started taking off random bolts.
Then I dropped a few random bolts.
And I searched and searched for those silly bolts.
Three hours later, I had a new battery installed.
Three more hours later, I found all those silly bolts and put them back where they came from.
Maybe I should have begged for a Ford Focus after all.
Looks like Hanna is coming to visit after all.
MUSC dismissed class and clinic for today.
Amber's school did the same.
We considered escaping town for the weekend, but I think we'll wait it out.
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