Well, yesterday I was gonna post a topic like, yay, I'm 21, it's mah birthday! But here's what happened:
My birthday started out uncharacteristically warm and rainy, which I didn't like. I was wet. Annoyed. Had a test, etc etc.
So we got home, rested up. I picked out an outfit, did my makeup (I never do) and prepared to go out for drinks. I let my boyfriend drive to get a feel for my car, as he'd be driving me home.
Anyways, we live TEN MINUTES from the restaurant. Speed limit's 45, we're doing roughly that or a little under. We have right of way. People facing us are turning left. One last car decides, maybe he can make the turn. He can't. GAH.
It's wet, and my boyfriend slams on the brakes and tries to avoid this d-bag, but we hit him and the airbags deploy and bust me in the chest and break my windshield. And my thumb.
So the other driver jumps out of his car and runs away, leaving his passenger.
WE CAN SEE THE RESTAURANT. GAH.
Paramedics look at me, crap happens, my roommate won't answer her phone, so she can't pick us up, my car gets towed with the keys in it. I barely got my wallet back.
So the cop drives us home, before I realize I have no keys, so then we walk a mile in the rain to McDonald's and wait half an hour for my boyfriend's mom. She takes me home and my parents take me to the ER where I get X-Rays and Vicodin and they take forever.
Today I find out, my truly beloved little car, Pimp, is totaled. I had him five years to the day. I feel like a living thing died. I loved it so.
I'm bruised, I have sausage fingers, my chest hurts, thumb hurts. Mostly I miss my car. But I'm so proud of it. Airbags went off and everything and it didn't crumple like paper, like all my friends' cars. I'd just put $900 into that car. Not two months ago. I guess it's good the brakes had been fixed.
Also, I gotta poop! But my chest hurts and I don't wanna push. Blah.
So much for celebrating. And I'm gonna have to relegate certain delicate Thanksgiving cooking proceedings to my boyfriend.