that old car smell

so my car freaking REEKS!

I cannot for the freaking life of me find the d*mn origins of this smell, which seems to be a combination of feet, dairy and mold.

It’s been this way since Friday night. And this morning I sprayed “after the rain”  air freshener (which I stole borrowed from my roommate) everywhere, including the trunk. but now it just smells like feet, dairy, mold AND whatever the heck after the rain smells like.

I have cleaned out EVERY POSSIBLE source and now plan to wait until I get paid and then take it to whoever the heck specializes in these types of things.

The only good news is that you kinda get used to it about 8 minutes in, so all I usually have to do is breathe only when necessary for the first three miles or so and I’m good to go.

This is not the first time i’ve had car smell issues. When I first got my car my mom was all “let me buy you some bleach and then transport said bleach back to your apartment via the trunk of your car” and i was all “what could go wrong?! Sure!”

and then the next day I was all “hmm, my car seems to smell like an over-chlorinated swimming pool. that’s weird” and I realized the bleach had spilled all over my trunk.

and my car smelled like a public pool for about a year-and-a-half to two years depending on who you ask. true story.

and when my sister asked which i thought was worse, the bleach or the mixture of feet, dairy and mold, i have to say, i went with the bleach feet, dairy, and mold — at least with the bleach people thought i was just supa clean, as opposed to supa smelly.

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it’s official: if you email me on match.com, i won’t be able to read it…

actually. i will. until Jan. 6. But after that my subscription expires. it was a fun two months don’t get me wrong. i went on six first dates and five of them paid for my dinner, so i figured i’ve recouped my losses.

but, here’s the thing. with real dating, when you meet someone, the most enchanting part is when they pick you. for some reason, they see you in a club, or at a wedding, or in the cheese aisle, or at the office water dispenser, and of all the girls in all the world, they pick you. to talk to. or kiss. or hug. and that’s my favorite part of dating.

but when you meet someone online, they pick a picture of you. and no matter how accurate the picture is, and how clever your profile is, it can’t possibly capture your essence. so that person has to set out to figure that out over dinner. but on that first date, they’re aren’t really picking you out of a crowded room. instead, they’re seeing if they WANT to pick you, and they’re comparing you against all the girls in all the world. and what’s the fun in that? then it turns from a date to a job interview, and i’ll just level with you. bad job interviews suck about 20 minutes in.

im sick of the fake conversation. and the awkwardly asking if they want me to split the bill. and the stress of trying to pick a restaurant in between our two houses. and the fear that the guy could in fact turn out to be a mass murderer.

im not going to pretend to be one of those 20-something girls who’s happy about being single. but im not going to pretend online dating is my thing either. so for now, i’ll just keep my $34.99 a month, and see what fate sends my way. maybe, i’ll check back in with the whole online dating thing in a few months, or a few years. or better yet, maybe i won’t have to. wouldn’t that be nice?

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let’s recap why my life sucks

last week, i had to deal with my family’s domestic violence situation. then my sister and i drove into a ditch in the middle of 72 corn fields and had to get towed out, then i had to call dcfs, then my mom stopped talking to me. then, last night (thursday) i had another gall stone attack, felt like i was going to die, drove myself to the emergency room during a blizzard, was given drugs that made it illegal for me to drive and then proceeded to be unable to find anyone in a 20 mile radius who’d ANSWER THEIR PHONE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHEN IT’S MOST LIKELY AN EMERGENCY! to pick me up from the hospital, got a ride home at 3:30 a.m. from a cab driver who smoked and tried to kill me while driving on awful snow-filled roads and now have to work until 11 p.m.

i used to say, it could be worse, i could be blago. but seriously, that man brought on his own d*mn problems. i think i’d rather be him than me at this point.

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