just another day in february
Thurman killed three of our neighbors chickens (they had six). The kids are very upset (they’d raised the chickens from chicks under heat lamps in the garage) and Thurman is on probation (aka, we are tying him to the tree). It looks very white trash West Virginia. My mom did not appreciate my suggestion that we buy the kids peeps, or make them chicken soup.
I changed my hubcaps on my car last night, which turned into a complete fiasco, because I forgot to put the lugnots back on before securing my new hubcaps in place (the old ones were secured onto the tires by the lugnots) and then the wheels fell off right in time for my dad to pull up. Luckily I’d only changed the hubcaps on the right hand side of the car. I am now a pro at changing a tire! Silver lining to everything…
I had to argue with TD Bank this morning because they charged me $35.00 for a $12.00 overdraft fee, which I found completely ridiculous. I promised them that one day I will be a wealthy woman whose account they will be happy to have. They reimbursed me.
Jim is coming to town in about 3 weeks, and I am having dinner with him exactly a month from yesterday. I had emailed him suggesting we go to, The Frog and The Peach. Little did I know this is the most expensive restaurant in New Brunswick, and on top of that, Jim told me last night that for “numerous reasons” he will be paying when we go out! His reasons were valid, however, 1) I paid last time we went out to eat together (he was leaving the country the following day and I thought I’d never see him again, also, we went to a DINER, big difference) 2) He’s working and I’m still in college, and 3) He knows my birthday is right around the corner. Gahhh. So yes all valid but still made me squrimy and now I won’t order what I want because I always feel self conscious when other people pay and try to order like the second cheapest thing on the menu (ordering the first cheapest looks as if you think they’re cheap). I’ll have to just not think about it, otherwise I’ll get myself worked up over nothing. I’m an independent woman! I pay for myself! I’ll leave the rallying cries for another day I guess. I never really have figured out how to manuever the whole who pays when thing. I always jump to pay for myself, and I’m not sure what the protocol is, because I know sometimes the guy likes to pay to feel like a man (we’ve moved on from Jim at this point, now I’m just sending you my stream of consciousness, and thinking about past events where I paid for myself and the guy got upset). Hmmm.