After only two days and $702.71, I am the proud owner of a whole new set of brake pads, calipers, hoses, rotors, cylinders and fluids. And I feel like I'm driving a whole new (more reliable) car. At least when I try to stop it.
Note to the guy in front of me in line at the mechanic's: We get it. You're richer and more important than anyone else in the room. That's why you answered your cell phone TWICE without even a simple "excuse me" while the poor guy behind the counter was trying to address your stupid, penny-pinching objections to the expensive work you had done to your Lexus SUV. I hope you had a nice time meeting your callers at the Talbott at 7:30 that night as the rest of us were made late and irritated while you planned your social life. The guy behind the counter was a saint for putting up with your petulance, and you're just lucky nobody behind you was carrying a brick.
Funny how when you finally see a doctor about something that's bothering you it seems to go away on its own. Since my EKG, I've gone from 10 sludge-pumping episodes a day to about one. But I'm still gonna go do the recommended stress test. Many thanks to my fabulous doctor readers who've offered opinions, advice and answers to my questions. You truly rock.
MY FREE AIRLINE TICKETS
I won them last Saturday, I was told I'd get all the details emailed to me on Monday, and I haven't heard a thing. And it's been a whole week. And I'm not really sure whom to contact about it.
THE RED DRESS STORY
A TON of you have written with questions and concerns and even offers of money to help the little girl. You're all sweet and wonderful for caring so much, but I'm afraid I can't help you. The incident happened 10 years ago when my sister was first teaching, and after a few years of keeping the lines of communication open, she's completely lost track of the girl. My sister also caught a couple factual errors when she read my post: She wasn't sure exactly where the little girl got the dress (my murky memory somehow pinpointed Goodwill), and the dress wasn't red—it was more of a silvery blue. Not that it matters, but I just wanted to set the record straight.
THE DRAG SHOW
I choreographed a couple numbers for a big fund-raiser on January 29, but I didn't get to see the show because I was on my spectular, avuncular Iowa vacation. If you didn't go either, here's some of what you missed:
Little Shop of Horrors never looked so fabulous.
Or so tragic. These girls are fierce performers, and I'm sure they stole the show.
Except they might have been upstaged by this sexually charged little number. Notice how the guys are all shirtless and touching each other in ways that would make John Ashcroft
Here's the final, ab-tastic pose from that number. I can't remember the name of the song, but does it really matter?
I didn't choreograph this number, but I thought you'd like to see a picture of it anyway. For artistic reasons, of course.
One more shot. Remember, kids: Both hands on the keyboard!