We've found a car for Chris: 1996 Nissan Sentra. It's a cute little car, even if it is an automatic (he really, really wanted another manual).

Feeling a bit tired and dull. The whole process of getting a loan, looking for a car and now finally getting further into debt is sucking up my energy. Fortunately, Frosties and fries are still available within our budget, so that's what we had for supper.

Chris and I spent the day looking at used cars. What an exhausting experience!

We drove to visit the remains of the old blue Subaru in the body shop, then decided to look around the area at used cars. Naomi (via cell phone) told Chris there was a used car tent sale at the mall, so off we went. A herd of salesmen gathered near the entry to the fenced lot, like bears waiting for salmon heading upstream.

My son and I are too smart for that. We dodged the bears and managed to set off the alarm in one of the cars. None of the cars was in our price range, so off we went. Chris noticed a Honda dealership nearby, so we drove over to look at their used cars.

The salesman, an older gent, greeted us warmly after we'd parked my car. To cut him off from thinking we were big spenders, I said, "We're pre-approved to spend $5,000 on a used car. What've you got?" He stared at us and would have had the vapors if a couch were nearby. He faintly suggested that he had cars about $9,500 so perhaps...

"No," I said. "We're not paying anything more than five thousand."

He said he'd go inside to see what they had listed. Chris and I wandered the lot. A much younger man came up to us.

"Bill was helping you, but he's got another customer just now, so he asked me to see if I can help," he said. I told him our amount. His eyes grew as big as frying pans. "Uh...that's a nice downpayment..." Then Chris noticed that Bill is with his other customer -- the other used car salesmen -- watching over the lot. Bill has obviously sent the newbie out since we're small fry. We leave.

"Let's go visit other dealers," I said as we drove away, "and I'll go, 'My first-born son needs a new car! Yessiree, I'll spare no expense! Show me the best that you can offer me for $5,000! I know you have cheaper cars, but he's worth more!'"

We might try this technique tomorrow.

So it never rains but it pours. Both in weather and in unfortunate incidents.

Chris was rear-ended yesterday and from the photos he took of his car it appears much more totally totaled than when it was sideswiped in the snow.

I look at the state of the household finances. We can't afford a new car. We can't afford to repair his old one. Unless the insurance gods somehow find favor for us...I don't know what we're going to do.

Friday is St. Patrick's Day. I've seen a couple of news articles about bishops granting dispensations so the local Irish Catholics can have their corned beef without commiting a sin.

This year, I'm going to be celebrating somewhat differently than usual. I've been called up for jury duty. This should be rather interesting, since I'll be looking at the court from a different perspective. That would be because of my paralegal training, not because someone other than myself is the defendant ;)

Of course this means I have to figure out how to get there without parking downtown. And hopefully, I won't be chosen for a lengthy case as I'm also going to our fan faire in April. The jury information says to be prepared for a case to go up to ten days; some could go longer. Or they might spurn my services altogether, which would be somewhat disappointing. We shall see!

Coffee has always been a part of my life. Ever since my mother warned me that it would stunt my growth (she was wrong), I've been a coffee drinker.

The first time I had an aversion to coffee was when I was pregnant with Chris. I guess the body knows what you should and shouldn't have (it was thumbs up on my craving for Oreos, which is how I know it works), and it knew I shouldn't have caffeine. The very smell of coffee would fill me with nausea. The same thing happened when I was pregnant with Phil.

Apparently, the hub of coffee desire is in the appendix, which has no other useful function. When pregnant, the swelling uterus pushes on it like a lever to signal that no coffee should be consumed until the lever is pushed the other way once the baby is safely away.

My appendix must have been removed while the lever was in a "no coffee" position. I have no desire for coffee any more. None. I hadn't had any since the Friday before my operation until this morning, when I hoped maybe a cappucino in a book store would jump start the system. But it did nothing to restore me to wholeness.

I've been to Sbux twice with Danuser and once with Matt since I returned to work and I didn't feel drawn toward the usual comforts of a grande caramel macchiato. I grieve for the coffee drinker that used to be me. I want to feel the excitement that the first day's cup brings. The familiar warmth of the cup, a halo of steam curling upwards like a prayer...I want these things again.

Why'd it have to be my coffee? Why couldn't it have taken out popcorn, or soda, or anything else?

At least I still like chocolate.

The first time I traveled with Sushi was in St. Louis, where I squeezed myself into the house she shared with Gryph, Bear and Brett for a week. It was an insane week during which the only time I really got to see her was when we had to spend the night at the convention hotel guarding prizes.

The next time we met up was a more somber occasion. We were going to meet at Suz's funeral. We timed our arrivals so that Sushi, Michelle and I got in at about the same time, then shuttled to get the rental car. We hadn't all three seen each other in a while, so we chattered excitedly during the van ride. The driver said, laughing at one of our jokes, "You all here for a reunion?" And after a brief silence, one of us said, "No...actually, we're here for a funeral." I think Suz would have liked that we were in such good spirits to see one another after so long.

Last year, when I was feeling blue, Sushi and I spent some time wondering whether I might be able to swing a trip through London to coincide with a trip she was taking. That didn't work out and we contented ourselves with the emails/blog posts/chat sessions that folks like us use to keep in touch.

But this time...nothing can stop us! We are converging on O'ahu for a week of mayhem post-E3. Muahahahaha! Finally, I possess enough miles on one airline to do something and it's this holiday!

We will lounge. We will ogle beach boys. We will shop. We will watch my niece surf (and we will ogle her instructors). We will wander the maze at the Dole plantation. We will ogle surfers on the North Shore. We will admire objets d'art, listen to music and eat napples. We will do insane things accompanied by my sister.

Look out, Hawaii!

Recovery goes on, slowly but surely.

I had no idea how sick I was until I sat with my doctor on Thursday for a check up. We read the hospital notes together and it was full of very exciting terms that I haven't seen since my days in medical insurance. My doctor, pointing out parts of the reports said, "You were very, very lucky." At the end of our appointment, she gave me a hug.

The whole mortality thing will hit me later, I'm sure. Right now I'm rejoicing that I've finally finished the last of those awful antibiotics. And I lost 5 pounds in one week, though once my appetite returns I'm sure that'll be adjusted again.

Sitting up is still kind of uncomfortable. I don't know how cats do it, but I am not meant to lounge around all day, sleeping in little patches of sunlight. Oh, well. I tried :)