Well, it's been an eventful week-end.
I spent Friday afternoon talking to Tony, one of the guys I work with. We were talking about drinking, and whether or not we could recite the alphabet backwards while drunk. He was amazed at the amount of alcohol I can consume without getting really drunk. I also astounded him with my ability to drink tequila and vodka straight. I taught him the key to saying the alphabet backwards: don't memorize the letters, memorize the sound of their names. That way you can pretty well manage it drunk, too.
Of course, if you're pulled over by a cop, I don't think they let you go on the basis of that alone. I think you have to be able to walk a straight line, which I'm hard-put to do sober, much less drunk.
Anyway, to prove my point I told him that I could sing a Chinese song, even though I can't speak a word of Chinese. This occasioned me singing a part of the song to him, and getting compliments on my voice.
This would turn out to be the highlight of my week-end.
Friday night, we went out with Katie. Saturday morning, Katie and I went out, had lunch, and it was decided that she'd come to practice with us. However, lunch ran a little longer than I expected, and I had to do a couple things around the house before we left, so we didn't pick up Dirk until 1:45. The situation was further exacerbated by the fact that Aaron had apparently decided to rejoin the band, and was riding with us (the car I drive is rather small, and taking 4 people to practice in it is uncomfortable for everyone but me).
We also had to go to Katie's bank, and Katie wasn't certain where it was. After two attempts and much aggravation, we decided to give up and go to practice. That was when tragedy struck.
We were going up the beltway, and it was utterly silent in the car other than the Type O Negative song playing on the tape deck. I could feel the hostility coming from the backseat, which made me nervous, which made me eat nearly all the chocolate covered macadamia nuts Katie bought me. From what I've been able to piece together, the relative silence, the warmth, lack of sleep, and a blood sugar crash hit me simultaneously, and I dozed off. While going 65 miles an hour.
There wasn't even any warning that I was sleepy. Usually, there's a fuzzy feeling in the back of my skull that warns me that I'm approaching the danger zone. There was nothing.
I was woken rather rudely by the shout of the other passengers in the car shouting my name and telling me to watch out. Then there was the thud as my car hit someone else's. Damn.
I pulled over nearly immediately, relieved to find the other car seemed to have only minor damage. I offered to pay out of pocket, gave the guy my name, address and work phone number, and was off. I started crying while I was driving, while Dirk was still in the back looking openly hostile, and Aaron was being silent as usual.
Dirk didn't even say anything until we got to practice. Then he was suddenly very concerned about my well-being. Wouldn't let me carry anything, made me sit down while everything was set up.
Practice went smoothly, Doshu showed up relatively on time, and all five of us went to Chichi's. I amused the others by recounting stories of the things we'd do to make my cousin Carlos cry when I was a kid. Upon retrospect, we were fairly barbaric kids.
After Chichi's Katie and I tried to get rid of the smear of white paint off the side of the car. Dirk would have helped, but he was sulking again, and decided to pass out in the back seat.
I was, quite frankly, amazed at the success we had with our fingernails and a pack of shop towels. It didn't get rid of the smallish dent in the side of the door, but I was hopeful it could be explained away.
However, the next day, it was apparent that it was not as cut-and-dried as I'd thought. I stood there, dismayed, as I noticed just how visible the scratches were, and surveyed the amount of paint we hadn't been able to take off.
Dirk and I ran out to Track Auto to see if there was anything that could help. The scratch remover we got helped a bit, but it's still pretty noticeable. Luckily, my parents haven't driven the car yet, so they haven't noticed.....but what to do when they do notice?
If I lived an ideal life, there would be no hesitation. I'd tell them what happened. I don't live an ideal life. I don't even live a semi-normal life, with human beings for parents. If I tell them I was in another accident, they're going to kill me. Or at least take my car away and make very snide remarks for a long, long time. And I'm sure my mother could think of other things to do to make me suffer. She's frighteningly good at that.
So, unless I can figure out a way to repaint that door and hammer out that mark tonight, I'm going to tell them that someone hit it while I was parked in the mall. Or I'm just going to play dumb.
Sunday night was spent napping.
I feel like I'm slowly being ground down into powder by everything. I considered walking out into oncoming traffic on Saturday, just to end all this.
I went to sleep last night with a nasty cough, and woke up with it. I've been coughing and clearing my throat all morning. I have to be in Vienna at 11:00, so I'm leaving now. I'll update more when I get back.