Yesterday morning, on my short drive to the cubicle gulag, I spotted not one, but two, black '08+ Toyota Sequoias on the road. I saw a white one in the parking lot, and two more older ones on the way home that evening. Today a white one passed by on my way to lunch, and on my way back, a green one drove right up behind me before changing lanes. This must be a sign of good things to come, from God or some superior force, as if to say, "we're working on it. It's coming soon." I have a good feeling, dear reader, that constantly visualizing the car in my possession is moving everything into alignment, and will result in the Universe fulfilling my burning desire for this automobile. Just yesterday I was thinking to myself, "I'm going to have that Sequoia very, very soon. Within a matter of weeks, or perhaps just days, it will be right outside my front door." As long as it's mine by May, in time for beach season, I'll be ecstatic, but of course the sooner, the better, especially considering that we seem to be in for an early Spring and beach season may come early this year.
I'm done with the Vic. It's been a very solid, dependable ride, but I'm just done with sedans in general. I no longer even want a Lincoln Town Car. SUVs offer so much more - more cargo space, commanding views, legal dark windows for privacy, easy loading & unloading of groceries, and that all-important rough & ready, imposing appearance. This summer I'll be pulling up to the loading dock at our beach condo in a new (or nearly-new), shiny, black, chrome-trimmed beast, the front end proudly displaying that badge of membership, the Wrightsville Beach souvenir license plate.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Recent Happenings, and the Quest for the Sequoia
So it's been quite a while since my last entry. Honestly, I didn't have a whole lot to write about. In late January I took ill with awful chest congestion followed by three weeks of being unable to speak. I finally regained full use of my voice a few days ago.
My old school chum had a birthday gathering at his apartment, followed by an attempt at going out on the town. We were nearly deafened at a newly-opened night club and really creeped out by its sleazy clientele. The really shitty thing about this place is that while it had plenty of sofas to sit on, people who had paid god knows how much had reserved them for their own exclusive use. The sofas were all empty except for piles of coats & purses. So after maybe 20 minutes we headed down the street to a pub that should have been much more relaxed; however, thanks to a hockey game in town that same day, the pub was overcrowded, forcing us to sit at a table outside in the cold, with a malfunctioning propane heater and no table service. We finally gave up on the nightlife and headed home at midnight, allowing us to get up at a reasonable hour Sunday morning and finally watch the copy of Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps we had rented. It was OK, but not nearly as thrilling as Wall Street.
Earlier that Saturday I had a much more pleasant experience. My wife and I met my parents and her grandparents, plus my sister and her beau, at a nice restaurant for lunch to celebrate Granny's and my mom's birthdays. Afterward, my folks took us across the street to an upscale gentleman's clothing studio to look at the items on sale. I came away with a very fine purple velvet sportcoat, two beautiful striped shirts suitable for both the office and night-clubbing, and a pair of green corduroy dungarees. I always love to add exquisite items to my collection of gentle-manly garments. Earlier that morning, my wife got the urge to find a pair of denim dungarees for me, as the only pair I owned had paint stains and holes. We fell in love with the Levi's 501 jeans at Brooks Brothers - quite costly, but made entirely in the U.S. of A. of superior materials. Another excellent addition to my wardrobe.
Oh, how I love fine clothing! I don't know what it is - I just feel better and more confident when I wear garments constructed of high-quality fabric. Perhaps it's the subtle message it sends to the rest of the world - here is a man who cares enough to spend good money on good materials, and deserves my respect and admiration. Plus it's kind of like having a collection - you start with the basic items, then branch out from there with variations and accessories. Lately I've been trying to arrange my closet to be not only neater but also showcase my collection better. I moved my Brooks Brothers polo shirts out of the chest of drawers and onto a shelf in a neat stack, forming a column of golden fleece logos. I hope to add a few more soon, in a wide array of colors. I'm trying to figure out a way to display my sweaters without leaving them vulnerable to moths.
In other news, I've decided it's high time I acquire a motor vehicle that complements my gentle-manly appearance. Yes, reader, I have grown dissatisfied with the Crown Victoria. I've tried all sorts of modifications to try to make it more gentle-manly, but I can no longer delude myself into thinking it's something grander than an old highway patrol car. It's dented, it's dated, it's missing a wheel cover, and I still feel like a target for the local authorities, who seem to think it's their exclusive privilege to drive that model. After much consideration and mind-changing, I have set my lofty sights on the 2008-2011 Toyota Sequoia, and it must be black. For now, it's mainly a dream; even a 2008 model would run about $32,000, and I'd never be able to make the monthly payments on that, let alone buy it outright. I keep a photo of one pinned to my cubicle wall, with a Wrightsville Beach souvenir plate photoshopped onto the front bumper. I think there is something to that whole "positive thinking" approach to getting what you want; if you constantly visualize yourself having what you want, I think there's a chance it will come true. Back when I was job-searching, I printed an I.O.U. from the Universe, stating that I would have a job paying at least $30K. That summer, I landed the job I have now. Did I do it on my own? Did the Universe do it for me? I don't know, but I'm willing to see if it will work again. I created a "certificate of future vehicle title" with my name on it, a target date of May 1, 2011, and the future vehicle a black 2008-2011 Toyota Sequoia.
The Sequoia will be the perfect choice - it's big, powerful, and imposing, yet elegant and well-proportioned. Toyota is an excellent manufacturer, so it won't need a lot of troublesome maintenance. Best of all, it's respectable, and would go unnoticed on the highway by lawmen. I'll install a DVD player capable of playing movies off my ipod, and install headrest screens for rear passengers. I'll also equip it with a CB radio and digital trunking scanner, hidden in the cavernous armrest.
I deserve this, damn it. I am owed something fabulous for all the shit I've put up with in life. I've played the lottery for 4 years without winning any substantial prize, and I'm stuck in a dead-end job with a mediocre salary that will never foot the bill for the things I desire. While I deserve to be retired at the age of 30 with a lifetime supply of cash, at the very least I am owed a more respectable form of transportation. I've been a fairly religious person my whole life, asking God regularly for help in dealing with life's obstacles and setbacks, and also thanking God for everything I am blessed with. Over the last few years I've grown increasingly disappointed with God's failure to come through with what I desperately want, which is a ticket out of the rat race. Maybe that's too big to ask, but a change of vehicles is far more reasonable. So, blasphemous as it may be, I've issued an ultimatum: if I don't get the car I want by the first of May (in time for beach season), I'll become an atheist. Seriously, one little car, and a modest Toyota at that, is not that much to ask for. It's not just for my own vanity, but for my overall psychological well-being and general self-esteem as well. I'll feel so much better about myself and life in general if I'm driving something that's not an old cop car and doesn't make me feel like I must constantly monitor the rearview mirror for the po-po. 2 1/2 months is plenty of time for God or the Universe to cook up some way to get me that Sequoia: a major lottery prize or jackpot, wife's grandparents kicking off and leaving us a small fortune, wife's rich godmother offering me a new car out of the blue, finding a bag of cash in a parking lot, finding something at a flea market worth $40,000, my parents selling something at auction for a million dollars and offering me a new car, something. Stay tuned to see what I believe in, if anything.
My old school chum had a birthday gathering at his apartment, followed by an attempt at going out on the town. We were nearly deafened at a newly-opened night club and really creeped out by its sleazy clientele. The really shitty thing about this place is that while it had plenty of sofas to sit on, people who had paid god knows how much had reserved them for their own exclusive use. The sofas were all empty except for piles of coats & purses. So after maybe 20 minutes we headed down the street to a pub that should have been much more relaxed; however, thanks to a hockey game in town that same day, the pub was overcrowded, forcing us to sit at a table outside in the cold, with a malfunctioning propane heater and no table service. We finally gave up on the nightlife and headed home at midnight, allowing us to get up at a reasonable hour Sunday morning and finally watch the copy of Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps we had rented. It was OK, but not nearly as thrilling as Wall Street.
Earlier that Saturday I had a much more pleasant experience. My wife and I met my parents and her grandparents, plus my sister and her beau, at a nice restaurant for lunch to celebrate Granny's and my mom's birthdays. Afterward, my folks took us across the street to an upscale gentleman's clothing studio to look at the items on sale. I came away with a very fine purple velvet sportcoat, two beautiful striped shirts suitable for both the office and night-clubbing, and a pair of green corduroy dungarees. I always love to add exquisite items to my collection of gentle-manly garments. Earlier that morning, my wife got the urge to find a pair of denim dungarees for me, as the only pair I owned had paint stains and holes. We fell in love with the Levi's 501 jeans at Brooks Brothers - quite costly, but made entirely in the U.S. of A. of superior materials. Another excellent addition to my wardrobe.
Oh, how I love fine clothing! I don't know what it is - I just feel better and more confident when I wear garments constructed of high-quality fabric. Perhaps it's the subtle message it sends to the rest of the world - here is a man who cares enough to spend good money on good materials, and deserves my respect and admiration. Plus it's kind of like having a collection - you start with the basic items, then branch out from there with variations and accessories. Lately I've been trying to arrange my closet to be not only neater but also showcase my collection better. I moved my Brooks Brothers polo shirts out of the chest of drawers and onto a shelf in a neat stack, forming a column of golden fleece logos. I hope to add a few more soon, in a wide array of colors. I'm trying to figure out a way to display my sweaters without leaving them vulnerable to moths.
In other news, I've decided it's high time I acquire a motor vehicle that complements my gentle-manly appearance. Yes, reader, I have grown dissatisfied with the Crown Victoria. I've tried all sorts of modifications to try to make it more gentle-manly, but I can no longer delude myself into thinking it's something grander than an old highway patrol car. It's dented, it's dated, it's missing a wheel cover, and I still feel like a target for the local authorities, who seem to think it's their exclusive privilege to drive that model. After much consideration and mind-changing, I have set my lofty sights on the 2008-2011 Toyota Sequoia, and it must be black. For now, it's mainly a dream; even a 2008 model would run about $32,000, and I'd never be able to make the monthly payments on that, let alone buy it outright. I keep a photo of one pinned to my cubicle wall, with a Wrightsville Beach souvenir plate photoshopped onto the front bumper. I think there is something to that whole "positive thinking" approach to getting what you want; if you constantly visualize yourself having what you want, I think there's a chance it will come true. Back when I was job-searching, I printed an I.O.U. from the Universe, stating that I would have a job paying at least $30K. That summer, I landed the job I have now. Did I do it on my own? Did the Universe do it for me? I don't know, but I'm willing to see if it will work again. I created a "certificate of future vehicle title" with my name on it, a target date of May 1, 2011, and the future vehicle a black 2008-2011 Toyota Sequoia.
The Sequoia will be the perfect choice - it's big, powerful, and imposing, yet elegant and well-proportioned. Toyota is an excellent manufacturer, so it won't need a lot of troublesome maintenance. Best of all, it's respectable, and would go unnoticed on the highway by lawmen. I'll install a DVD player capable of playing movies off my ipod, and install headrest screens for rear passengers. I'll also equip it with a CB radio and digital trunking scanner, hidden in the cavernous armrest.
I deserve this, damn it. I am owed something fabulous for all the shit I've put up with in life. I've played the lottery for 4 years without winning any substantial prize, and I'm stuck in a dead-end job with a mediocre salary that will never foot the bill for the things I desire. While I deserve to be retired at the age of 30 with a lifetime supply of cash, at the very least I am owed a more respectable form of transportation. I've been a fairly religious person my whole life, asking God regularly for help in dealing with life's obstacles and setbacks, and also thanking God for everything I am blessed with. Over the last few years I've grown increasingly disappointed with God's failure to come through with what I desperately want, which is a ticket out of the rat race. Maybe that's too big to ask, but a change of vehicles is far more reasonable. So, blasphemous as it may be, I've issued an ultimatum: if I don't get the car I want by the first of May (in time for beach season), I'll become an atheist. Seriously, one little car, and a modest Toyota at that, is not that much to ask for. It's not just for my own vanity, but for my overall psychological well-being and general self-esteem as well. I'll feel so much better about myself and life in general if I'm driving something that's not an old cop car and doesn't make me feel like I must constantly monitor the rearview mirror for the po-po. 2 1/2 months is plenty of time for God or the Universe to cook up some way to get me that Sequoia: a major lottery prize or jackpot, wife's grandparents kicking off and leaving us a small fortune, wife's rich godmother offering me a new car out of the blue, finding a bag of cash in a parking lot, finding something at a flea market worth $40,000, my parents selling something at auction for a million dollars and offering me a new car, something. Stay tuned to see what I believe in, if anything.
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