Geographical locations come and go, but blogs go on forever

Of course the great thing about blogging is that even when your life moves geographically, your blog can stay where it is, in its own little cosy corner of the blogosphere. I find that settling, in a life which is suddenly in a whirl. So a big thank you, THANK YOU, to whoever nominated me for the Brilliance in Blogging awards (short lists here). Seems I am short-listed in two categories: I am "Lit!" (as in literary, I think, not as in all alight and on fire), and "Inspire!". You are very very kind, and you may just have persuaded me to keep blogging (for yes, dear Bloggy Friends, it had crossed my mind that once I am no longer an expat writing an expat blog, my blogging days will be over...).

So... I'm in the category "Inspire!", which is lovely of you all. I'm going to let you into a secret. When you have cancer, it's not difficult to be inspiring, because people kind of give you that label without you having to try. But I hadn't reckoned on the cancer effect not wearing off for a couple of years. Nearly three, actually. That's rather nice.

However, since I am about to return to the country where self-deprecation is the norm, I thought I should dust off my skills in this department, and share with you one way in which I have been totally uninspiring this week.

I wrapped the side of my car round a small post, about 18 inches high. It serves me right for using a bank drive-thru (sorry, I have to spell it that way). That is about the third time in five years in the US that I have used the drive-thru, partly as a matter of principle - what is so hard about parking your car, and walking into a building, for heaven's sake? - and partly because I didn't know how you actually operated a drive-thru and was too embarrassed to ask anyone. Or perhaps I had some dreadful premonition, that I would meet a sticky end in a drive-thru, and was avoiding them, but as fruitlessly as the King and Queen who banned all spindles from their kingdom, in an attempt to stop their Princess pricking her finger. Her destiny was to fall asleep for a hundred years. Mine was to mash up the driver's door, the passenger's door, and - ooh, my reactions were slow that day - the back wheel arch of my minivan. She dozed through a century, to be awakened by a Prince's gentle kiss. I endured the mirth of the Bank of America employees watching me from behind the big glass window as I got out to inspect the damage, and then phoned Husband to confess (who was very nice about it, though you can't get a kiss - gentle or otherwise - down a mobile phone). She planned a wedding and drifted off into the sunset. I looked up my car insurance documents, and discovered that we have a deductible of $1,000.

The incident did, however, give me a wonderful opportunity to model to my children how to react to such a situation. First off, I parked the car, and went into the bank to pay in the check. Yes, I did. I am nothing if not determined, when it comes to standing up to inappropriate bank merriment in the face of customer misfortune. I was definitely not going to slink away. I even remembered to make the kids stay in the car, so that they wouldn't get the free tooth-rotting lollipops that the bank gives out to them. (Ah... THAT was why I was doing the drive-thru... I knew there must have been a reason, apart from Destiny, of course.) Then I can't quite recall the details, but it involved shouting at the children, and subsequently listening while 14-yo, bless his tactful teenage heart, helpfully pointed out that I often tell him, if he is angry, not to take it out on another member of the family, and engaging him in a lively discussion about how this situation was in no way comparable to any previous one in which I had given that instruction. See? That is just how inspiring I am.

Oh, and the best bit was this. The reason that I crumpled the side of the car so convincingly, and spread it with the bright yellow paint with which the post was painted (bright yellow... so that people can't miss it...), was because when I heard the bang and the crumply noise, I thought to myself "ooh, don't cardboard boxes make a lovely bang and a lovely crumply noise when you drive over them?". Yup. Pretty darn inspiring, wouldn't you agree?

Dear So and So

Dear Man whose fiancee's car I scraped

I'm enclosing a check of the amount of $216.25 [made out to the garage, not to you.]. I feel obliged to do this, as I did cause the damage. It does seem very expensive, though, for a scrape the size of a nickel. I'm not going to be claiming this on insurance - I know that sometimes make a difference to how auto service centers approach the charges to these things [is that what you call them over here? repair garages? why do I still have so many occasions when I don't know the right words? you have no idea how much I hate that].

This sum represents significant expenditure for us [I know you're going to look at my fancy check and think we have some kind of premium account because we're fantastically rich, but we opened that account when we came over from Scotland, and we were bringing sums of money over - the proceeds of our house sale, that kind of thing - so they gave us a fancy check book, don't let it mislead you]. If you could see your way to finding a more affordable repair shop, I would be really very grateful. [This amount would pay for me to have my hair re-highlighted THREE times.]

[And by the way, it gives me small but satisfying pleasure to think of a 'Not the Nine O'Clock News' sketch from way back, which you would never have seen because it wouldn't have been on US television, in which a gorilla being interviewed by Pamela Stephenson has the same name as you.]

Yours sincerely

Iota


Let's see if there is decency in this world, shall we? I know, I just know, that there would be no point insisting on other quotes, or trying to negotiate over the phone. I think, honestly, it's worth $216.25 not to have to pursue this any further.


Dear Fiancee

Please don't marry this man. Marry someone nicer.

Yours sincerely

Iota

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