Intake & EGR cooler are clogged and need to be cleaned (it's what happens to TDIs with 250,000 miles on them)- 800
Strut mounts -300
Struts- 600
And that's just the beginning.
two new tires (old ones are going bald)
a new windshield (monster crack)
front brakes and rotors (they're warped-- I have experience with this, too)
and just for the hell of it, a buff job.
I'll detail it myself.
Wow, I'm way off topic.
Like I said I was cleaning out my little computer to make it more happy, and I found some old diary type documents.
I thought I'd share.
Nov 13, 2004You know, I thought in 2004 I was happy, but it's funny how many of these little RTFs I've come across where I'm either angry or depressed. Hindsight being 20/20, well, let's just say it had some very bright points (pastor greg- the dad I never had) and the rest was ...well, it pretty much sucked.
Getting Over Adolescence
I'm kinda coming to the conclusion that my adolescence was probably equivalent to something more like organized torture. Maybe not organized as in coordinated, but more like mob-type torture. I felt like I could do no right by none. If you're reading this, you've probably read the rest of my diaries or at least now have a desire to read all the stuff I've written since the tenth grade. I can't even look at it. I mean sometimes I'll go back in there and thumb through the pages and read this or that. I now laugh a little at the stuff I wrote in code to deter the eyes that were always looking to get more fodder for ridiculing me. (Did I mention I was terribly paranoid?) In case you didn't read it, this is the synopsis of high school.
I guess it just comes down to the fact that I didn't have a goal. All I wanted to do is fit in, but other than that, I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing. I didn't identify with anyone or anything. I thought I had to be the one to change. In the end, I think it was all the changing I did that, at least in my mind, repelled everyone from me. I didn't have any concept of who I was. I had no confidence to believe in myself. And I didn't have God.
Good old boy crazy Nicole, she'll do anything to please anyone. She's nobody because she tries to be everybody. What a joke she is.
How can anyone think anything of someone who has no stable personality? And I'm the first to admit it, I had no idea what I was doing. Trying to cling onto whatever came along isn't what makes for a companion. It disgusts me to think of the person I used to be. I'm sure it disgusted a good part of the class to even talk to me. So excitable, always trying to figure out "where this is going." I tried to compensate then by trying to become a thinker. Or was a trying not to be defined as an airhead? Regardless, I can tell you now more about who I'm not than who I am. I don't know how much of it is reality to the rest of the world (but does it really matter?), but this is who I believe I'm not:
I'm not an addict. I'm not goth. I'm not a punk. I'm not trendy. I'm not a model. I'm not perfect. I'm not stupid. I'm not brilliant. I'm not wise. I'm not naive. I'm not alien. I'm not normal. I'm not overweight (yet). I don't have an eating disorder. I'm not funny. I'm not strong. I'm not always me. I'm not a drunk. I have no impairments. I'm not a loser. I'm not rich. I'm not a winner. I'm not terrible. I'm not angry. I'm not at peace. I'm not good. I'm not who I used to be, nor am I who I used to NOT be.
This is who I believe I am:
I'm a child. I'm a grownup. I'm naive, stupid, strange, confused, disordered, impaired, maladjusted, terrible, angry, violent, and weak. I'm who I used to be and who I am today. I'm smart, funny, and way too serious. I am a teacher, a mother, I am loved and I love. I'm completely insane to the world and to those who don't try to know me.
But I know I'm not crazy. The world thinks I'm crazy. And that eats me alive. I make sense to me, why doesn't anyone else get it? It's obvious, when I try to explain it, that you have no concept of where I'm coming from.
I've never talked like you talked. We've never spoken the same language. I've never really given a damn about the money everyone wants. I've never given a damn about going out and picking up guys and having a hell of a social life. I don't care about the Jones' and their running. They're shallow people searching for meaning in the meaningless. (Come on, when was the last time a Lincoln Navigator saved someone's soul?)
Guess what, though...
IT'S OVER!!!
(yay!)
2 other thoughts:
that's a lot of introspection. i hope it all went down with a healthy dose of cocktail.
You know, I really should look into cocktailing as a means to combat introspection. Methinks the lady doth introspect too much.
Post a Comment