The Secret Emissions Test

Yesterday the Jezebels had an item about women and crying. I’ve been working on a post about crying but I accidentally deleted my notes and I’ve reconstructed them but haven’t gotten around to writing the thing out. I’m not in the mood today so maybe later this weekend.

I had to get my car smogged this morning. I wanted to take a photo but it’s not allowed so instead, a photo of rusty saw blades in Grandma’s shed. I’m almost chuffed enough to write a letter to the state and accuse the contractors who do the emissions inspections of having something to hide. Seriously, what harm could possible come of a person taking a few photos of her car at the stupid emissions station? It wasn’t like I wanted a tour.

I always leave that place with a bad attitude. There was no line and I drove right up and within 30 seconds, seriously, I didn’t even have the window rolled down all the way or even say hello, the lady grabs the ticket out of my hand, (you take a ticket when you drive in for no discernible reason) and bombards me with a series of questions and instructions without waiting for a response: I need your registration or emissions test notice, and $15, what year is the car? what make? how many cylinders? I need to open the car door. It’s locked. Ma’am, can you unlock this please? Ma’am?

Maybe I’m talking myself up, but I don’t think I’m a complete idiot and I was totally discombobulated. What happens when an elder person comes in?

I passed my test and don’t have to go back for 2 years. Yay.

Here’s our back hedge where tree pruner guy whacked it back. You can see at the top how out of control it is. He only pruned as far as he could reach on the ladder. I contacted the home owner that owns the house next door. He doesn’t live up here. I didn’t want him to think I was complaining, just letting him know that this might be something he wanted to take care of and we had a person who could do it. He said it sounded great and he’d get back to me and I haven’t heard. I’m afraid if I mention it again he’ll think I’m a pain in the ass.

You can see on the ground all the clippings. We need to rake that all up and I need to have the yard debris service started back up. Except it’s been 40 degrees and raining since August. (Slight exaggeration.) When am I ever going get out there to clean up?

 Here’s the great hook project of 2008. I had a bunch of hooks so I got out my drill and put them on the side of the entertainment center and turned it into an organizational area for spare keys and cellphone charging cords. And Bob’s school ID. We used to have a single hook right by the door and it kept falling off because there were too many things hanging on it.

Guess who was back last week? Window washer guy. This time he had a partner and they used a whole rig to go up and down. Not just a sling and a rope. It seemed a lot faster with this method. I knew he was coming and had my camera out and as I snapped photos I was yelling at him and telling what a popular feature he was on my blog. He kept saying, “What?”

I can hear the guy with the rainbow suspenders who plays the Star Wars theme on the trumpet at the bank building 4 blocks away, but window washing guy can’t hear me on the other side of the glass? I don’t get it.

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