2 posts tagged “mouse”
Due to staying up until 3 am and then getting up at 7 to wake up
everyone in my house and then drive my boyfriend to the bus terminal so
he could go back to his motherland, I went back to bed (um, the couch)
and slept until one in the afternoon and was therefore unable to answer
yesterday's question of the day, which, I guess, changes around noon.
For some reason. So, vox, I refuse to accept your weird and offbeat
change-o, presto antics and am answering yesterday's qotd, TODAY. Oh, snap! Or something!
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mouse, my Nana's very last car, my very first car, and my very first car crash.
As you can see, Mouse is a little old and a
little small. Driving Mouse is basically like driving a toy. As
previously mentioned, he belonged to my Nana, before she passed away.
Technically, Mouse isn't totally and completely mine just yet, as I
only have my beginner's (G1) lisense, and am therefore only allowed to
go for a spin when I am accompanied by a fully lisensed driver of four
years. This hasn't stopped me in the past, though!
Last spring, while my parents were in Portugal and Dan was paying me
a visit, I crashed Mouse into the front of my house (take notice of the
scratched paint on the front bumper). At this time, I was void of any
lisense whatsoever, but still thought I could manage pulling into the
driveway quite impressively. But no, I missed the driveway, went right
through the ditch, sailed over the lawn (actually, lurched is probably
a better word, as my feet were freaking out with me and kept going from
gas to break to gas), thrashed through the garden, and, well, House
meet Mouse (honking all the way, because, like my feet, my hands were
all over). Dan then backed the car out to it's proper place, and I was
left, lying on the front lawn, practially having an anneurism, while
the little girl next door was seen looking out her living room window,
giggling and what she'd just witnessed.
Not much damage was done, just a little paint scraped from the
bumper that no one noticed and some paint also chipped from the siding
of the house, which, conveniently, plants grew over, hiding my
stupidity. My parents never found out and I don't plan on telling them
until I'm at least 35. However, I got my lisense a few short
months after the incident, and as a result, was totally freaked out
every single time I got behind the wheel. I was convinced telephone
poles twenty feet away were somehow going to jump infront of the car.
But I'm cool now, dudes, and my driving instructor says I'm awesome and
told me I have the right to brag. Brag, brag, brag.
Okay, that's it, I guess. I need more sleep and a popsicle.
Hi. I'm Jill.
Hi. I'm Jill, and I'm a grab-bag of contradictions.
Hi, I'm Jill, and I'm a disgruntled rain cloud that rains bobby pins all over the carpet.
Hi, I'm Jill, my hair blown back by the wind, a river in the sky, a fiery comet tail, my head in constant freefall. As someone once said.
Hi, I'm Jill. I'm really bad at writing introductory auto-biographic posts, the ones where you're suppose to sum up yourself nice and quickly while still leaving the reader feeling as if they know you, body, mind, soul and intestinal tract (can that be filed under "body"?... well, no, because technically the intestinal tract is just a hole inside your body and I need to stop thinking) while all the while giving the impression that you're fun loving and oh-so-deep, simultaneously. It's near impossible task. So, instead, here are just a few things about me:
I have a white Geo and it's name is Mouse because it looks like a mouse. It lives in a hole next to my garage.
I only know one magic trick. And, no, I won't tell you the secret because it's all I've got.
I absolutely adore art. I kind of pretend that I'm an artist, but really, I'm just relearning everything. I can barely draw a straight line. If I could do anything at this point (or in the future), I'd love to be a freelance illustrator/artist, traveling the world (but I would settle for free reign of the continent, too) and showing my brightly coloured works off at galleries and shows, filling childrens' books with imaginative illustrations, and blowing minds left and right. Unfortunately, I have a long way to go, and no plan.
I'm a very nervous person.
I'm 22, a Gemini with a Pisces moon, I study culture and art at university, I work at a record store, and no, it's not like Empire Records nor as cool as all the 14 year olds think it is, my favourite colour is green, I have one brother, two lizards and a foreign lover... boyfriend... person. When we're not in the same country, we talk in parenthesis.
I'm also missing a whole lot of bobby pins. If it turns out the vaccum didn't eat them, let me know if they turn up, won't you?
