When It Rains It Drains

DH (thats Darling Husband for you newbies) borrowed my car today. He had to haul some junk, and that's when he wants to drive my car. The lesser car, in his mind. (It's an Infiniti, but that's no Mercedes).

Anyway, before dinner - and after he borrwed my car - DH does the cowboy saunter over to me, puffing up his chest in a manly 'I-know-about-cars-and-you-don't' way and says, with a challenge in his voice:

"When was the last time you had your Radiator drained?"

Now I know the damn thing needs the oil changed, it needs new spark plugs now and then and I have to check the pressure in the tires. But Radiator drained? This seriously was a new one to me, but I guess it sounds like something 'they' do.

"I dunno," I say, thinking hard about whether my mechanic has ever mentioned my radiator.

"Well how long have you owned it?" now he sounds condescending.

"Four years," I say, still wondering why I need the radiaotor drained. I"m waiting for him to tell me something like 'didn't you see that widget light come on??? That means your radiator is about to explode!!'.

But no. He looks down and shakes his head, as if exasperated by my ignorance as to radiator draining.

"Well," he starts, and I can tell this means I'm gonna be spending some $$$ on my radiator instead of the Lilly sale. "You're gonna need your radiator drained." Tell me more, my expression says to him.

"Two reasons, " he continues. "First, because you've had the car for so long I"m sure it needs to be drained." He pauses. I"m still not convinced. "And second," he looks down and his voice lets go of that condescending tone, "when I went to put windshield washing fluid in your car I accidentally poured it into the radiator. It needs to be drained."

(insert sounds of Homer Simpson here)

My BIG Date

I'm going to see the Sex In The City movie tonight with about 12 other firends. We're meeting for cosmo's first, at a bar across the parking lot from the Cinema Plex. The bar is certain to be full of thirty and forty something women wearing their highest (and most uncomfortable) heals and most outrageous designer duds in an ode to Carrie Bradshaw. I'm sure that the bar will also be full of men prowling the Sex In The city crowd. (kinda smart of these fellas, don't ya think?)

Anyway, as excited as I am about seeing my 4 fictitious friends again, I'm a bit concerned about their/my life now that we're in our forties. You see, when the show was still on the air (new episodes, not the watered down re-runs), I - like Carrie and the girls - was a thirty something, single gal living in the city. Okay, not THE city, but A city. At about the same time that Charlotte, Miranda and even Samantha began to 'settle down' with a real life (and in Miranda's case move to Brooklyn), I too was moving out of the city to a stylish suburb, moving in with my boyfriend and then getting married.

Can you immagine my dilemma? If 'the girls' aren't happy in their new lives, does that bode well for me?? I was able to judge my success and justify my selfish and singleness by the gals on SITC. If they're not happy, am I? Oh I hope they are all happy and wonderful and touting the cynical yet snappy joys of settled bliss. Cause I AM happy and I really want to see that I'm still following along w/the gals.

I also want to see that they no longer wear Jimmy Choos and Minolo's. Those shoes are expensive, uncomfortable and not appropriate for work or any of the social events I attend. I want to see them wearing Coach and Stuart Weitzman. Whats more, I really want to see them getting into Lilly!! And not just Charlotte. I'm sure that Charlotte can be counted on for her share of Lilly. But I want to see Carrie embrace the pink & green. And how 'bout at least one of them sporting a Lil' 1154 bag. Or garden clogs! I'd accept them wearing Sevens jeans paired w/some Tiffany bangle bracelets. Charlotte cannot continue to be the only J. Crew gal. I like my new wardrobe and I want to see if justified on the big screen.

Other than that, I am anxious to see if the writers ever changed Miranda's babies name. Otherwise, now that she is married to the father, Steve Brady, the little boys name is Brady Brady. Not too smart for a stuffy lawyer like Miranda.