Sometimes I have to Laugh or I'll Cry

A friend of mine called me yesterday frustrated because every time it rains - her driver's side window comes down and stays down. She's had it fixed a million times. Each time they tell her it's okay. Then it rains and it's not. She tells me she spent the day driving somewhere she didn't want to go to with her finger on the window button trying to get the window up and her hand on the steering wheel. "Really," she said looking up at the sky. "My life is overwhelming right now and then this happens. Really?" It was one of those moments either you laugh or cry.

Today, it rained again. I'm driving my man's other lover - his rebuilt (still rebuilding) 1987 Nissan 280z because my car is still in Vegas being repaired, nearly two months later. It's dripping water in my lap from a leak in T-Tops. I am using a rusty t-shirt to soak up the water in my seat. He has rigged two shifters in the car. One to use on the street. The other to use if I am so bold enough as to get on the highway. I can't find a long-sleeve shirt to wear in the rain because I haven't bought any clothes for myself since 1999, the year my son was born. I drive some place I don't want to go to and when I get there, I find out I'm not even supposed to be there. I get back in my drippy car, drive to get a taco at Baja Fresh and I lock the keys in the car. I think of my friend. It was either laugh or cry.

But wait, it gets better. My man comes to save his mistress and I only to be honked at and cussed at by some douche bag woman in a Jaguar. Apparently he didn't move his car fast enough for her and instead of letting me exit my parking spot to get behind him, she blocks me in and a stand-off ensued. "Why can't you let her out," he asks? "What is wrong with you? Call the cops!" he yells. "What are you doing," I ask him? It's so absurd to be in a stand-off at the Beverly Center Plaza parking lot because some lady is just being a douche bag. I just looked at the both of them. Really? What is up with that? Finally, he leaves, much to his chagrin. I pull up to her at the light. I can't help but call her an f'n douche bag and we both go our separate ways. Scene.

But wait, there's more. I get home and the man is now mad at me. He says, "You didn't hear her honk her horn at me and tell me to get my f'n bald head out of the f'n way?" "No, I didn't." I respond. Blah, blah, blah. Wah, Wah, Wah. If I fought with every rude douche on the road - I'd never get anything done. Pick your battles. I don't have time or energy to waste on crap like that anymore. So now I'm in my son's room blogging while he's in our living room ranting about what's wrong with people in LA and how he'd rather be in Mogadishu fighting for food.

Right now I have to concentrate on what is really worth my time and energy. I just cashed in my 401k so I could buy studio time, get my website up and running again, buy some clothes that, I don't know, fit me and bring me into the 21st century. I took a big hit and risk cashing in my 401k but I have to believe in myself because if I don't - who will? You do what you have to do to get to where you want to go. I feel a bit shamed because my man is mad at me for not engaging with that woman. I feel like I let him down by not beating the snot out of her or something. That kinda stupid fight is just not in me. So my guess is that we won't be gettin' together tonight as planned. Ahhh, left to my own devices . . .

Sometimes I just have to laugh or I'll cry.