She-Ra Queen of the Universe
previous day's entry March 14, 2003 next day's entry
Don't you love it when you accomplish something?  Even more, when you accomplish something people think you can't do?  I had one of those moments yesterday.  We're giving away this really hot Trek mountain bike at the Sole.  Well it's been sitting in the back in a box for a week, so yesterday I decided I was going to put that sucker together.  Toymeka says, "Oh Ellen, don't worry about it.  Kevin will be in tonight, let him do it." Oh no no no.  See, I especially get all hyped up when someone tells me to let a man do it.  I'm no crazy man hater (far from it as a matter of fact!),  but I just LOVE the challenge of doing something only a man should be able to do.  Like put together this bike.  Now, I'll admit, it wasn't rocket science.  However, it wasn't a Lego-bike either.  There were real tools...even an Allen wrench which is my absolut fave...and grease.  Actual grease!  So I bust out all the peices and sit down to put this sucker together.  It was coming along fairly smoothly, except for the fact that this bike was like 10 times my size, so I sometimes lost control, resulting in it tipping over on top of me, crushing me between the wall, the cement floor, the trashcan, and the metal frame of the bike.  And of course I couldn't call for help because that's not good customer service, so I just had to patiently wait, whimpering, for Toymeka to wander in the back and save me from my torment.  But that only happened a couple times.
I seriously felt so powerful though!  My hair all pulled back, smudges of grease on my cheek, and swearing like my mom on a good day.  Yeah see yelling for help is not good customer service, but all four-letter words are A-OK.  So I huffed and puffed, and finally, standing before me was a whole, put together, kick freaking, silver mountain bike, gleaming with chrome and drops of my own sweat.  I pronounced myself Roberta Villa and got ready to show off my handy work.  So I grabbed the handle bars to pick it up and wheel it out front.  "VWIIP"  That's the sound it made when the handle bars flung out of the base of the bike and into the air. "KABLAMAMAMAMMA"  That's the sound of me once again falling into the wall/trashcan/cement floor with the handle bars in my hand.  Apparently this was not correct.  So I continued to work on it, and finally got the handle bars to stay, the front wheel to steer the right way, and all the brakes hooked back up....or so I hope.  Everyone was very pleased with my work, and couldn't believe I really did it.  Though we do all agree that we have to post a disclaimer that says, "This bike put together by crazy blonde chic high on coffee...ride at your own risk." 

I really really hope next week slows down a little.  This whole working four jobs thing is getting to me.  Rob and Tammy wanted me to roadtrip to Kennewick with them this weekend to see Shep, and dangit that is just what I could use.  It's funny, even in a big city I get very stir crazy.  But no, I work all weekend too. 

But Oooh Oooh Oooh!  I just realized that today starts off a very exciting set of days for me!  Today is March 14th --- 3/14.  Very VERY good ju-ju for me.  See when I was born I weighed 3lbs 14oz., and when that set of numbers comes up it's always good luck.  Then tomorrow is March 15th -- The Ides of March!!!!  I won't beware, I will embrace.  Then there's Sunday the 16th, which is really nothing, but just a resting day to prepare for the biggest, greatest, all around day of the year.  March 17th St. Patrick's Day!!!  Yay Yay Yay!!!  I Lu-u-u-V St. Patricks Day.  The past few years have been some insane times, and I'm hoping this year is just as great.  Except...see Monday is also a big day because I get my new teeth.  But I have a feeling the dentist will frown upon the idea of my staining my brand new sparkling white teeth with green beer.  I told my mom this and she agreed...but I said, Ma, a true Irishman doesn't let anything  stop them from drinking green beer on St. Patricks Day.  She, an even truer Irishman than I said, "Ellen dear... a true Irishman doesn't care what color their beer is, as long as theirs plenty of it."  Right on mom, right on. 
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