fox

1.  Brought yesterday's non-refrigerated crap up from the car.

2.  Drove down to the old place, got the remaining crap down to the car, primed the dark walls twice but the light ones not at all, am aware this is a gamble but it's a risk I'm willing to take, because life is too short to spend another hour putting white primer over "pale daffodil" eggshell.

3.  Place is empty, empty, empty.  I'd have taken a picture, but my phone was 100% out of battery.

4.  Vacuumed.

5.  Handed in keys, said good-bye to staff at old building.  I really was very happy there, and I told them so.

6.  Returned cable box.  EFFING COMCAST.  Waited in line 20 minutes for a 15-second transaction.

7.  Rode with sanj out to dealership to pick up MY NEW CAR!  Of whom I don't have a picture yet, but she's here, she's right here in my parking lot, and she's lovely.  (Alas, the paperwork and showing-me-all-the-bells-and-whistles and so on took long enough that sanj gave up on waiting for me so we could have dinner.  Sorry, dude.  I didn't think it would be that much of a production.)

8.  Am now having dinner, but before I go to bed I think I should bring in the carload of crap that's down in the old car now.  (If not now, when?)


In conclusion:  moving is DONE.  And I am NOT DEAD.  Hurrah.

So, test-drove the Scion xD. I didn't hate it, but I'm glad I test-drove it, because I didn't love it either; my enthusiasm for it yesterday was no doubt a recency illusion and also considerable (and understandable, I feel) positive feeling w/r/t the $16K price tag. Alas, I think the things that bug me -- roof comes down lower into the windshield than I'd like; driver's seat is not adjustable up/down, which could combat this visibility issue; gas pedal is incredibly soft -- would continue to bug me, and it's worth spending more not to have to deal with them. (The suspension, which one hears horror stories about, didn't bother me at all.)

Salesguy also talked me into trying the Yaris, which is what used to be called the Echo. It was fine, but soulless. Felt like a rental. Pedals were stiffer, which I liked, but the rear windshield was eensy, and the A pillar was exactly where I'd need to be able to see traffic approaching on the right. No sale.

Am also poking at the Mazda site, where the prices are quite reasonable -- but I'm having a hard time shaking off the love for the Mini. How can it be that the BMW dealership on Rt. 1 doesn't do Minis anymore? The closest Mini dealer the website can find to my ZIP code is in Sterling. Sterling!

chorus:  Monday, lots of work on McCartney and Holst and ten minutes at the end on Walton.  Walton is not in good shape.  Director says "Okay, we'll begin with Walton on Wednesday, for sure."  Today, lots of work on McCartney and ten minutes at the end on Walton.  Fortunately, it sounded better this time.  (Walton and Holst, for all they're under-rehearsed, at least make musical sense, so they need less going-over.  McCartney is a man of many gifts, but choral composing is just not among them.  Or it wasn't in this case.  I am ignorant of his Liverpool Oratorios; they might be lovely and sensible.  I'm just inclined to doubt it.)

car:  WOW.  New clutch, and suddenly the pedals are more responsive than I can remember them ever being, ever, ever, ever.  I suppose this means the clutch has been slowly deteriorating over a long period (as things do, that wear out), but holy SHIT, I went to back out of the parking space and the car LEAPED like a racing animal that's heard a starting gun.  This is going to take some getting used to.  But on the plus side, my car is back, and I am rid of the incredibly stupid white Chevy Cobalt.

curling:  Save me from teams that are already calling for spares, for a whole day's worth of games (okay, which is two games, but still), before the event has even begun.  I know things come up, but DUDES.

In non-C-initial news, I did a small load of laundry, but decided it was small enough and of appropriate materials that I could just hang the stuff to dry, so I've saved a buck and a half and also a 45-minute dryer cycle ... which means I can go to bed now, instead of after 1!  Woo-hoo!

Also, my hat came, and it fits.  Yay!  (I can put that in the C-initial column, though, because it goes under Cleveland.)

The last time I had a loaner on account of my car was in the shop, it was a Hyundai Elantra from Enterprise that I compared to having bad sex.

This time, it's a Chevy Cobalt from Budget, which is ... well, if we're going to continue the metaphor, I suppose it's like sleeping with someone much younger than yourself -- and it's fine, but you wonder what all the fuss is about, and you don't think everyone needs to be in a hurry all the time.  In particular, this one is white (which is stupid) and has a rear spoiler (which is not only stupid, but also actually obstructs some of my rearview, so I can't always tell if there's safe space to change lanes).  It's still an automatic, but at least it's got some kick.  Heap big thanks to esti626 for coming and getting me and ferrying me to the airport to get this rental car, which I'm going to have to name something like Lance.


Also, I left the TV on while I was out getting the car, so I could see the rest of the game on DVR -- and I'm glad I did, because even though I know how it ends, I'd have been sad to miss Asdrubal Cabrera's great catch in the top of the 7th.  Damn!

So for a couple of weeks I've been feeling like my car is underperforming in ways that do not please me. Specifically, he's been a little sluggish, particularly in lower gears -- the RPMs are getting higher than I'm used to, but that power doesn't seem to be transferring much. Rev, rev, rev. Almost as if the -- those of you who know from cars can probably already tell where this is going -- clutch were still in, even when it's not. Fun!

This was the diagnosis when I called the dealer and spoke to a very nice young woman who said it was not at all surprising that a clutch would need fixing after 106,000 miles. She estimated the complete repair at $1400, which would include replacing the flywheel, a $160 item that she (and others I consulted afterward) seemed to think it was worth replacing rather than bothering to grind down and so on. I am also contemplating the 120K Major Service, since I didn't have the Major Service at 80K. This is $620 of belts and hoses, and it's been a while and it's about to be winter. (And the driver's-side washer fluid sprayer doesn't work. That will shortly be not-at-all acceptable.)

The station down on the corner, whose mechanics I trust, estimated $800-900 -- and, when pressed for details, estimated $300-400 for parts and $590 for labor, which to me looks more like $900-1000 -- and says they'll have a better idea once they get it in front of them and can actually see what needs doing. Specifically this guy said he couldn't know until he opens it up whether it will need the flywheel replaced, so the parts estimate is hard to pin down just now, which tracks with what Dealership Girl said. The station another block further away, whose mechanics I've dealt with less but with whom I have had no complaints, estimates $528 for labor and $250 for parts, and insists this is unlikely to change much just because he has the car in front of him. He did not mention the flywheel, so I'm going to go ahead and guess it could go up to as much as $400 in parts at that station.

At the dealership, I could take the car in, go out with a loaner or free rental, and come back to $2000 of repairs that I'd know were VW-endorsed and guaranteed ... but, dudes, $2000. At either of the other places, I could take the car in for the clutch replacement, tell them to take a look at whatever other belts and hoses needed looking at and fix the washer fluid sprayer, and probably be out ... what, $1100 plus the (trivial) cost of a rental (because I cannot be without a car for a whole day that isn't a Sunday until probably the first weekend in November).

I think I'm going to take the middle solution, the station at the bottom of my hill, because I know them better than the other station. That's after I double check that the time my brother had a front window fall down inside the door, it wasn't the same window I had earlier had fall down inside the door and had those guys repair. (I don't think it was. I think mine was the driver's side and his was the passenger side, making it VW's fault entirely. But I have the service records, so I'll look and see.) I don't think I've quite drunk enough Kool-Aid to decide that I must always have all repairs done at the dealership. Right?

Off to investigate rental car prices. The fun never stops.

Lexus Girl has not called with an estimate, which she said she was going to do this afternoon.  I see this as meaning one of three things:

1. She forgot.
   
2. The dealership said "what damage? oh, we can buff that out no problem" and thus there is nothing for her to call me about (but note she should still call me to say so).
   
3. She went ahead and filed a claim against me without telling me what the estimate was first.

Feh.  I hesitate to call her, in case it's (2) -- my feeling is, if I never ever hear from her again, hey, fine! -- but I may drop her an e-mail if I still haven't heard from her when I get back from running my last errand.

But I called my brother, mainly to say Yay no more bar exam!, and then ranted for a while about the car stuff and he listened well and said wise things because he's a good kid.

Sigh.  It'll all be fine.  Dammit.

1. Dear Paul McGann: re the Eighth Doctor (and Lt. Bush, but not Alien³ -- although if I can forgive Gabriel Byrne for ... well, for his whole resume, basically, I can forgive you for that), pls let me know when would be a convenient time for me to have your babies.

1a. Parenthetically, dear non-Paul-McGann cast member from "Storm Warning": Capetown? No, seriously, is that supposed to be a South African accent? I had briefly wondered if you might be going for something southern-hemisphere, but then settled on Russian, because of the whole socialist-minister thing and the fact that you just plain didn't sound like a native speaker (and yes, I know you're set in 1930; you didn't sound like a native speaker of any vintage). South African, though? Damn. It, ah, needs some work.

2. Pulled too close to a wheelstop last night and did some damage to the @#%^&! bumper again. The next time that happens will be the last, I'll tell you what. I am going to fucking buy a new car and it's going to have more than an INCH AND A HALF of clearance in the front, goddammit. BUT! this morning a charming man at the garage fixed it as well as it could be fixed, and he did it in five minutes and didn't charge me. So that's all right. (To really fix it would require replacing the goddamn bumper, because there's something cracked on one edge, but unless it fails the inspection, I'm not down with that.)

3. ( Those of you who know what I'm talking about will know what I mean with this, I think. )

I've been wondering this for a while, actually: do (or can) any of the hybrid cars come with a manual transmission?

Last week, en route to chez sanj after choir practice, I hit the opposite of a pothole -- it was a wrinkle in the road that I didn't see until sanj said "Look out!" and then it was banging into the bottom of my car. Not fun, but it didn't feel like any damage had been done; certainly the tires weren't blown out or anything, so no harm, no foul.

Only of course since then every little wiggle the car makes has me panicking. It wasn't until after that that the oil light started coming on when I go around sharp turns, for example. (And I'm not convinced there wasn't an oil spot on the ground under where I parked last night.) It feels like the car shimmies waaay more than it should at about 65 mph, which is not a speed at which a car should shimmy. And, you know, so on.

So I've just made an appointment to take him to the dealer. I should have had him in for service a couple thousand miles ago, anyway (he last had a checkup at 84K and he's at 89K now -- I'm not completely neglectful), and VW has things they do at multiples of 20, so I gave them a buzz and said What do you do at 80K? I'll take that, please.

Sigh. So that's where I'll be tomorrow, I guess.

just almost hit a guy with the car. i was doing about 30, is all, going up my hill, and he came out from behind the bus he'd just gotten off.

memo to guy: LOOK, before you step out into the street!

the brakes didn't squeal. (yay, shop dudes.) and i sat there with my foot on the brake -- and the guy crossed the street -- and i sat there with my foot on the brake -- and i looked toward the sidewalk, and the guy was standing there, and he sort of reached out but didn't quite pat the car on the shoulder, and he mouthed the word "sorry".

check engine light: appears to be nothing actually wrong. the guy (named ray, and i swear that's true) is going to reset the parameters of something something and give it a couple of drive cycles and decide for now that the fact that he checked what it said to check and everything looks fine means there's nothing seriously wrong.

oil light: came on when i went around a sharp turn because the car is like out of oil. same thing was true about six weeks ago, and the guy (not ray) added at least one quart, possibly two. ray tells me there's no sign of any leakage; i can only conclude that the car must be burning the oil away, which makes me unhappy. ray says this is not necessarily the case and counsels keeping track of oil issues, if any, for the next three thousand miles.

additional: front brakes are worn the hell out and need new pads and rotors. right rear tire has a nail in it and needs to be patched.

estimate: $600. RAR.