“Pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked.”
Dear Jane,
I must confess that I write to you in a state of utter despair. In truth, I feel as Elizabeth Bennet felt when she learned that Lydia ran away with that wretch, Wickham. In other words, I feel hopeless. Let me explain (for it is not so very alarming as I have made it seem, but it is not joyous news either)...
As I was looking leisurely through my cellular device this morning whilst lounging in bed, I decided to glance at the book list I had saved in my notes. In my tired state (and by a cruel turn of fate), I accidentally erased the whole list and there is no hope of recovery. What is a young lady who prizes books above all things to do in such a situation?? I am sure that you know by now how very terrible my memory is, so you will agree that I have almost no hope in remembering what was on that list. Oh, woe is me, Jane!
Somehow, I shall find the strength to carry on, but it will not be an easy task, I dare say.
I hesitate to share my next story with you, Jane, for it is yet another one of utter despair. (Again, please take these words lightly for as long as my utter despair involves worldly possessions, I cannot feel despair in the slightest for I am quite thankful for spending such a wonderful summer with my dearest friends and family.) I shall proceed, nevertheless.
It was a beautiful and sunny day on Wednesday last when I left my home to drive to work. (Pray, this could have all been avoided if only I was to be driven about in a chaise as a young lady ought to be, but alas, this was not the case.) Anyhow, I was delighted for the day to begin as I was planning to visit my dear friends, Caitlin and Annie after work. We had not seen each other for quite some time and were planning the most lovely reunion together. I was driving my silver Saturn, regardless of the fact that it had been making extremely formidable noises for most of the summer months. Unfortunately, I foolishly chose not to pay any mind to these noises for I thought they would go away on their own. They, of course, did not.
As I was turning into the highway entrance, I felt the strange (and never welcome) sensation of my car brakes ceasing to work. I was quite aghast, for what is one to do in such a situation? I am proud to say that I did not panic (which was quite surprising, actually). However, I did contact my dear mother and she was overwhelmed enough for both of us. (Mothers, after all, should not be expected to handle such situations with ease as they always worry so very much for their beloved children.) I am sorry to say that after the third time she called back, this time to remind me to put on my hazard lights (which I had quite obviously done already), I lost my temper and said rather more loudly than I meant to, "WHAT DO YOU THINK, I AM AN IDIOT?" and hung up the phone. I later apologized, but I was in such a state of agitation at that moment that it could not be helped!
Somehow, I managed make it off the highway and drive to an auto shop near where I worked. Luckily, my car (which is named Scarlett for Scarlett O'Hara from Gone With the Wind as both car and character are extremely feisty and short tempered.) still had some ability to come to a stop, although I did not have much control over how long it would take to do so. Needless to say, I had to drive very slowly.
I fear that I am taking such great lengths to describe each and every detail of this pitiable situation that you will have aged a century by the time you have finished reading this letter. I shall try to make this long story shorter, Jane (and gentle readers).
Anyhow, my dear sister arrived at the auto shop to collect me and bring me to work where I awaited the dreaded phone call that would tell me the cost of such a repair. When the call came, I was quite beside myself for they told me it would be $1,240.00 (about eight hundred and eleven pounds)! I could not comprehend such an unreasonable number so I quickly had my car towed (thank goodness for AAA) to a shop more well known to my family where they said they would charge me a lesser price of $815.00 (about five hundred and thirty three pounds). Alas, this was still quite a blow to my bank account, but it was much less than the villainous blackguard known as Firestone told me it would be.
In order to finish this story quickly, I shall use my phone notes to dictate what happened next along with a short commentary:
There you have it, Jane. It is worth mentioning that I was able to borrow my father's car and meet my dear friends for a lovely dinner that evening. But, in order to put a perfectly imperfect ending on the day, I got stuck in unexpected night traffic on the way home from dinner and was stuck waiting it out for at least an hour and a half. If I do say so myself, one could not make such a day up if one tried.
Now, Jane, the quotation above was chosen for a reason. Although such dreadful events have occurred, I shall not be disheartened. You once wisely wrote, "Pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked." What is life without a little mischief and strife? Perfection is much too boring to bear, and I for one, prefer a small taste of adventure every now and again.
In other news, I return to Queens on Saturday...my feelings are mixed on this subject. I promise to write soon after I have moved back, Jane!
Yours Faithfully,
Amanda
I must confess that I write to you in a state of utter despair. In truth, I feel as Elizabeth Bennet felt when she learned that Lydia ran away with that wretch, Wickham. In other words, I feel hopeless. Let me explain (for it is not so very alarming as I have made it seem, but it is not joyous news either)...
As I was looking leisurely through my cellular device this morning whilst lounging in bed, I decided to glance at the book list I had saved in my notes. In my tired state (and by a cruel turn of fate), I accidentally erased the whole list and there is no hope of recovery. What is a young lady who prizes books above all things to do in such a situation?? I am sure that you know by now how very terrible my memory is, so you will agree that I have almost no hope in remembering what was on that list. Oh, woe is me, Jane!
Somehow, I shall find the strength to carry on, but it will not be an easy task, I dare say.
I hesitate to share my next story with you, Jane, for it is yet another one of utter despair. (Again, please take these words lightly for as long as my utter despair involves worldly possessions, I cannot feel despair in the slightest for I am quite thankful for spending such a wonderful summer with my dearest friends and family.) I shall proceed, nevertheless.
It was a beautiful and sunny day on Wednesday last when I left my home to drive to work. (Pray, this could have all been avoided if only I was to be driven about in a chaise as a young lady ought to be, but alas, this was not the case.) Anyhow, I was delighted for the day to begin as I was planning to visit my dear friends, Caitlin and Annie after work. We had not seen each other for quite some time and were planning the most lovely reunion together. I was driving my silver Saturn, regardless of the fact that it had been making extremely formidable noises for most of the summer months. Unfortunately, I foolishly chose not to pay any mind to these noises for I thought they would go away on their own. They, of course, did not.
As I was turning into the highway entrance, I felt the strange (and never welcome) sensation of my car brakes ceasing to work. I was quite aghast, for what is one to do in such a situation? I am proud to say that I did not panic (which was quite surprising, actually). However, I did contact my dear mother and she was overwhelmed enough for both of us. (Mothers, after all, should not be expected to handle such situations with ease as they always worry so very much for their beloved children.) I am sorry to say that after the third time she called back, this time to remind me to put on my hazard lights (which I had quite obviously done already), I lost my temper and said rather more loudly than I meant to, "WHAT DO YOU THINK, I AM AN IDIOT?" and hung up the phone. I later apologized, but I was in such a state of agitation at that moment that it could not be helped!
Somehow, I managed make it off the highway and drive to an auto shop near where I worked. Luckily, my car (which is named Scarlett for Scarlett O'Hara from Gone With the Wind as both car and character are extremely feisty and short tempered.) still had some ability to come to a stop, although I did not have much control over how long it would take to do so. Needless to say, I had to drive very slowly.
I fear that I am taking such great lengths to describe each and every detail of this pitiable situation that you will have aged a century by the time you have finished reading this letter. I shall try to make this long story shorter, Jane (and gentle readers).
Anyhow, my dear sister arrived at the auto shop to collect me and bring me to work where I awaited the dreaded phone call that would tell me the cost of such a repair. When the call came, I was quite beside myself for they told me it would be $1,240.00 (about eight hundred and eleven pounds)! I could not comprehend such an unreasonable number so I quickly had my car towed (thank goodness for AAA) to a shop more well known to my family where they said they would charge me a lesser price of $815.00 (about five hundred and thirty three pounds). Alas, this was still quite a blow to my bank account, but it was much less than the villainous blackguard known as Firestone told me it would be.
In order to finish this story quickly, I shall use my phone notes to dictate what happened next along with a short commentary:
- "Hertz rental car shenanigans" (Those louses could not even help me rent a car for they were too dim witted.)
- "Mom can't get me till after meeting" (I had to wait around in our empty office until after 5:00...I was only supposed to work until 2:00. Luckily, they let me work until 4:00 but then everyone went home so I was left alone. Clearly, my visit with Caitlin and Annie were cancelled...I was not happy.)
- "Walk to Burger King for much deserved ice cream cone" (This meaning is clear.)
- "Burger King cash register system down" (At this point, I threw my hands up in the air and said, "Of course, it is!" Angrily, I sat down only to have the song, 'FourFiveSeconds From Wildin' come over the radio. This song was quite welcome as I was indeed about four, five seconds from wildin, Jane. The meaning of 'wildin' is to go crazy.)
- "Walk to Valero get donut and iced coffee"
- "Eat donut leaning against wall of Valero waiting for mom"
- "Mom rolls up as I am taking selfie of self eating donut."
Dunkin Donuts came through for this young lady.
There you have it, Jane. It is worth mentioning that I was able to borrow my father's car and meet my dear friends for a lovely dinner that evening. But, in order to put a perfectly imperfect ending on the day, I got stuck in unexpected night traffic on the way home from dinner and was stuck waiting it out for at least an hour and a half. If I do say so myself, one could not make such a day up if one tried.
Now, Jane, the quotation above was chosen for a reason. Although such dreadful events have occurred, I shall not be disheartened. You once wisely wrote, "Pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked." What is life without a little mischief and strife? Perfection is much too boring to bear, and I for one, prefer a small taste of adventure every now and again.
In other news, I return to Queens on Saturday...my feelings are mixed on this subject. I promise to write soon after I have moved back, Jane!
Yours Faithfully,
Amanda
FROM RICK: rick_f has left a new comment on your post "“Pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick...":
ReplyDeleteWhat a day (thankfully the day came to an end and you survived it). I, too, brought my car into the shop this week after the dreaded, and somewhat unhelpful, engine light icon appeared for no apparent reason. We are conditioned to feel as if something tragic will happen if we don't bring the car in immediately. So naturally, the guy at the dealership said, "well, if it isn't running rough or otherwise acting strange, it probably doesn't require immediate attention." Even something as minor as not tightening the gas cap firmly enough can cause it. Lovely. He very nicely went and checked that while I was on the phone to rule it out, which I much appreciated.
Anyway, I always feel as if your vehicle is being held hostage whenever you bring it in. If it needs repair, are you going to say "no, never mind, don't fix that - I'll just take my chances." In this instance, it was some sensor or other (there seem to be a million sensors in cars that could each go bad and cause something to not function correctly). So, I had it fixed and, while not a hefty bill as yours, an unexpected expense is never welcome (::cough, college tuition bills::).
I did enjoy your tale, as unfortunate as it was -- the fact that you did get coffee and a donut *and* meet your friends meant the day wasn't a total loss.