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February 18, 2002 // 7:56 p.m. // My B-Day
Yesterday's birthday was nothing to write home about, but it was quite memorable for a number of other reasons. After numerous fights with B and G (most over music and a few artists in the Grammy category of best new artist) I arrived home at three fifteen (only some numbers seem to be working on the main computer) in the morning, receiving only two hours of sleep. My mom made a big deal about taking me to breakfast a little too late in the day to be comfortable eating breakfast, and then she made just as big of a deal about going to dinner. I didn't want to do either one. After all, it didn't feel like my birthday, so why should I treat it as such? I did feel bad because our family is big on going to restaurants when a birthday comes along, but I'd much rather do something less fancy. If at all possible, I'd rather not eat at a restaurant. Sitting down to eat real food is a little too formal for me. We agreed on KFC, but after assuming that they had forgot, I left at my usual time (6:45 and I finally got all of my keys working) to KFC to get my Sunday night meal. My car had been low on gas ever since I put in three gallons in to get me around town on Friday. I had used that quickly while running around town on Saturday. As I approached the end of the street, my car slowed down, and eventually came to a stop. I was able to pull over to the side of the road, grab the gas can from the back of my car, and began to walk the five blocks to the 7-11 down the street. Why didn't I walk the 3/4 of a block back to my house to ask my dad to take me to get gas? Part of it is due to him always appearing grouchy when I pose this question to him. It's always followed by the "how could you run out of gas again?" look. Also, I'm super independent, and would rather do it myself, likely due to my mom and my sister asking me for help on the little things that I'd rather not do. I arrived back at my car after my ten block walk at about 7:30. This was the first time I had ever used my gas can, and had a hard time using it as it was different from my dad's. For starters, it didn't have one of those handy nozzles that you pull out and put in your gas tank. Instead you have to pull out a plastic nozzle, put it on backward, and screw it on. I never realized this, and attempted to pour the gas into the tank like you'd pour a cup of water into the tank. Needless to say, this didn't work. To make a long but in my opinion interesting story suitable for my journal short, I made at least a half dozen trips back home, used methods such as pouring the remaining gas that's hard to get to into 20 oz. bottles and then poured that into the tank. After all of this, I still was not able to start my car. At this time it was 8:30, and I had been trying to get my car running for almost two hours. I made one last trip to the gas station, filled the can with gas, and still had no success in getting my car started, making me realize that maybe it wasn't just a gasoline problem. And suddenly, it started. And only drove me twenty feet before stopping again. From here, it was easy to get it started, likely due to the level ground. I headed straight for the gas station, filled 'er up, bought my KFC chicken, and realized that I had not recorded Malcom in the Middle to watch later as I had planned. My parents were both disappointed that we had not gone to dinner and that I had not told them I was out of gas. They were upset that the situation could have been resolved in fifteen minutes rather than two hours. I thank you and you once again for your respective CD mixes and subsequent liner notes. I have yet to listen to them, but plan to soon. Jason Previously on Apexsensatin : Now on Apex : Apex Archives : Next time on Apexsensatin