Stupid Monday

Dearest Confusia,

How are you? I write to you from my desk in my classroom wearing a poodle skirt and Saddle Oxfords. I look and feel like a total moron. It is homecoming week and today is "Dress Like Your Favorite Decade". The Fifties is not my favorite decade, but Rachel had that skirt from the Halloween we went as the Pink Ladies, so I figured, what the hey. However, now that I have it on I feel like a complete douche bag. Really? I didn't decide to go as the 90s? I could be sitting here at my desk wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, (for all intents and purposes, my pjs) but no, instead I'm wearing a skirt complete with tulle and sequines. Fun! I think the best part of the experience thus far is this morning, I had to get dressed at the gym. I found myself trying to justify to the ladies in the locker room (women I never talk to) why it was that I was wearing a pink poodle skirt. In fact, as I was leaving the gym, I had an older woman come up to me and ask me where I got the skirt. She informed me that she's going to her 50 year high school reunion and wanted to dress like the times. I almost took it off and gave it to her right there. Only that I would have been clad in nothing but my underwear kept me from doing do. Just when I thought the humiliation of it would end as soon as I got to school, it dawned on me that I forgot to bring my lunch today. Now, I'll have to go out in public at lunchtime and get something or I could starve. Starving is always an option. Have I mentioned that I look like a total tool?

By the way, if I ever see tie-dye again, I might puke. I guess the 70s is an easy decade to dress like? Ugh!

How was your weekend?
Dear Terps,
My weekend was f-ing swell, let me tell you. Last week I tried to get my car inspected, but no sooner had I pulled up than the dude was like, "That won't pass. I can already tell you've got an exhaust leak. Take it to so-and so, and they can take a look at it for you." So I drove it to the other place he suggested, and the guy told me it sounded like a cracked exhaust manifold. He said he could weld it for me if I could go to this other garage and have them take it out. So off I went, only to discover that they wanted 200 bucks just to take the thing out. On to Plan B. I went to a junkyard and got an exhaust manifold for 75 bucks. I took it back to the house and started working on the car. I got the heat shield off, but the alternator was in the way, and my weak female arms couldn't get all the screws on the manifold off. I called my father-in-law, and he came over to help me. I told him that there weren't any cracks in the damn manifold. He saw it and agree with me. He put a five dollar gasket in there with the old manifold, and the car passed inspection yesterday. Now the junkyard won't take the other manifold back, so I'm stuck with the damn thing. I'm going to try to sell it and an old boat motor Alan's got as scrap metal, though.
The funniest thing about this is we both know I know shit about cars and how to fix them. I was covered in grease, and blisters, but I did save myself some money! Plus, I got to feel like Rosie the Riveter...ha ha I'm such a badass car mechanic!
When the hell are we retiring to our island again???