Knocked Up: Funnier than your Average Flick

A friend of mine was gracious enough to see this movie for a second time in a week avec moi. Yup, can you believe it? I went to a movie, not the bar, on a Friday night!

This movie got talked up quite a bit from friends of mine. Indeed, it was rather humorous, but when you hear rave reviews, you have such high expectations. I think The 40-Year-Old Virgin reigns superior, but Knocked Up is a close second.

I was pleasantly surprised to see Jay Baruchel from the show Undeclared on the big screen! The show centered around Jay's character, Steven Karp, and his friends as they endured trial-by-error college freshmen experiences. Unfortunately, it was cancelled after one season despite it's true-to-life hilarity. Jay, his character in Knocked Up, had his funny moments, but the slacker friends (all go by their actual first names and buds in real life) of Ben Stone (Seth Rogen) lacked the character development of the uniquely defined personalities in The 40-Year-Old Virgin.

However, there were two secondary characters with terrific lines: Jodi (Charlyne Yi) and Jill (Kristen Wiig). Jodi is the stoner girlfriend of Ben's buddy, Martin and Jill works at E! with Allison Scott (Katherine Heigl). Both Yi and Wiig deliver side-splitting one-liners.

One thing that annoyed me in the film was how characters occasionally went apeshit on one another for no apparent reason, which I didn't find funny. It came off as more of an excuse for profanity and obscenities, which granted may have been comical, but didn't seem very realistic.

It was fun to see three guys play minor roles from The Office: Steve Carell, B.J. Novak, and Craig Robinson. I wonder if they are all friends of director Judd Apatow.

What are you waiting for? Go see Knocked Up!

Sex: It is what it is

Question: Do people in their 20's use the term "making love?"

I sure as hell hope not. That sounds so terribly old-fashioned -- like what your dad said to your mom the first time they....you know. *Shudder* Moving on...

I could research the origin of the term, but I'm lazy. I imagine it dates back to when sex was much more of a taboo topic. C'mon people, we turn a blind eye at violence and dropping f-bombs in the entertainment industry, how long before use of the words "making love" is obsolete?

If a friend told me they "made love" to their husband, boyfriend or random one-night stand, my obituary would read: wearingthepants, 26, passed away unexpectedly from maniacal fit of uncontrollable laughter. Survived by adorable kitten, Marley.

While sex is part of love, it's not the equivalent of love. If you're doing it with a stranger or someone you're not in love with, you certainly aren't "making love." You're having sex. If you want to get technical, the only thing you're potentially "making" is a baby. Or loud noises. One friend is said to sound like Chewbacca. But I digress.

I could compile a long list of alternate words for "making love" but it's hardly necessary. So why not call it what it is? Sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

Depressed? Get Married.

"A recent study suggests that marriage provides a greater psychological boost to depressed people than to happy people, even if the marriage is so-so."

Interesting article.

"It could be that marriage provides the companionship and emotional support needed to help alleviate depression."

Father's Day Gifts

Do you have yours yet? This morning I received an email from Bath & Body Works promoting their semi-annual sale for Father's Day gifts.

My dad used bar soap to wash his hair before he met my mom. He's never worn cologne a day in his life. I'm sure Bath & Body's Cool Spring modern scent foaming shave gel, body spray and shower gel rank at the top of his list!!

Marley's First Purr

I thrash around in my sleep too much for Marley, for he's been sleeping under the bed. But during my last hour of sleep this morning, he jumped up on the bed and made himself comfortable by curling his body around my neck, assuming a spooning position to sleep. When I awoke, I heard him purr for the first time! Awww. He purred again when I arrived home from work and knelt down to pet him. I've only had him a week and I can already tell he's growing -- he's filled out some and looks longer!! His high-pitched meow sounds funny...he needs to go through puberty!

Mary-Kate Olsen Joins Cast of Weeds

"Olsen will play Tara, a devoted Christian girl living in the newly developed megachurch community Majestic who becomes a love interest for Nancy Botwin's (Mary-Louise Parker) son Silas (Hunter Parrish). Olsen will appear in 10 of the 15 episodes of the show's third season, which premieres August 13."

Interesting, no?

I've got exactly two months to find someone with Showtime willing to welcome me into their home every week for my Weeds fix.

Marley & Me

Seriously, could he be any cuter??? He's no puppy, but he's pretty damn cute for a kitty! I love his facial features best. My friend determined his face looks like a mouse and he's right -- just look at those huge ears and white mouth. I like how his pink, tiny triangle nose is outlined in black.

He's been a lot of fun to have around. He's most rambunctious in the morning so I always feel bad leaving him for 8+ hours to go to work, but what can ya do? Nonetheless, he does a good job of keeping himself entertained with his wide variety of toys. What's the point of having a pet if you can't spoil him/her? The sparkly ball in this picture is his favorite. I've never seen a cat chase a ball as much as he does! My friend taught her smart feline to fetch. Perhaps Marley can learn the same -- he'd never tire of that game!

I scheduled his first vet appointment for Friday so he can get a check-up and round of shots. I think he'll do okay at the vet because he's rather bold for a 12-week-old kitten. He's not the least bit shy of humans, but naturally, he does get scared by loud noises.

I believe he tried sleeping beside me last night, but I was tossing and turning so I think he may have slept under the bed. He emerged from my bedroom this morning, but I'm unsure of exactly where he came from.

Oddly enough, he likes to lick the bottom of feet. He also enjoys attacking the glass image of himself in mirrors. Another of his favorite pasttimes is watching TV. Earlier tonight, I caught him intently watching Everybody Loves Raymond (see above).

When he tuckers out from all his heavy activity, he looks like this:

New Maroon 5 Album

Work was a tad more bearable today because this morning as I procrastinated leaving for work, I downloaded the latest Maroon 5 album, It Won't Be Soon Before Long. I liked their last album when I first bought it, but to say it was overplayed would be an understatement. Anyway, their new album sounds different, but it's fun, upbeat tempo is catchy! Me likes.

5 Miles in Hell

Why did I think I could run in this heat?!? Big mistake. My body prefers cold over hot any day of the year. I figured maybe I should try to acclimate my body to the humidity since this is my last week of freedom before marathon training starts.

In fact, I received my official participant of the '07 Twin Cities Marathon card in the mail today. I don't think the training itself will be the difficult part. I'm actually dreading the commitment of following a regimen more than anything. I hate the fact I'll no longer have the freedom to do whatever I want for my workouts.

'Big Brother, After Dark' on Showtime

From EW.com:

"Come July 5, rabid fans of CBS's Big Brother will have a new way to spy on the show's sequestered houseguests: the eye will start airing live feeds from the house on one of its sister Showtime channels. Dubbed Big Brother, After Dark, the live action in the house will air every night from 12 p.m. to 3 a.m. on SHOTOO, a Showtime channel that airs mostly theatricals and adult flicks and is available in over 14 million homes. This is the first time the network has aired live feeds on TV, though they have been available via the internet since BB launched seven years ago. Also new for fans this summer: episodes will be available on CBS.com. The eighth season of Brother will air Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. And yes — host Julie Chen will be back."

Keep your Shirt on -- Please!!

If you're a guy, just because you can run without a shirt, doesn't mean you should. I realize it's like a thousand degrees outside with the humidity, but for the love of God, cover up!! Today I saw something no human being should be subjected to witnessing. As I was parked at a stop light, a pasty, white chubby male wearing green khaki shorts a couple sizes too small, ran past my car, his rolls jiggling as if in slow motion. The appalling image is embedded in my mind.

This humidity is killing me. Begrudgingly, I did a 6-mile jog yesterday in the heat, but today was simply unbearable so I went to the club and did 7 miles on the treadmill. Afterwards, I was doing sit-ups on the mats when a woman and her totally out-of-my-league personal trainer took the mat beside me. I've gotta start going to the club more often.

Am I Crazy, or Just Plain Stupid?

A little of both. Most definitely.

I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to blog about the latest addition to my family, Marley. If you don't like the name, blame my friend : P (btw, I just learned how to do that emoticon a few days ago). We were sitting around trying to come up with names when he saw the book, Marley & Me, on my coffee table. It kind of stuck in my head and I'm sick of thinking of names so the poor thing is out of luck.

If you're completely shocked by my news, it was somewhat of an impulsive decision. However, last week I did write a very long, detailed blog about my love for animals and how I missed having a pet, but when I went to post it, I'd been signed out of blogger so I lost my entire post. By then, it was time for bed so I never went back to that topic.

Instead I spent the following day looking at Petfinder for a cat to adopt. Initially, I considered an older cat so I went to this non-profit, no-kill animal shelter in St. Paul called Feline Rescue. All the cats are either abused or abandoned and they are free to roam the place which is really nice. There was one black and white cat, Cookie, that I seemed to bond with, but I didn't feel ready to commit at that point.

The next day, I began searching kittens on craigslist when I came across a couple cute ones so I emailed replies to both. I called one woman and made arrangements to see/pick-up the cat that evening while she worked the overnight shift in Plymouth. It wasn't until I was halfway there at 10:00 pm that it occurred to me I could be putting myself in danger. I was driving to a random stranger's home late at night and given that I was acting on impulse, I hadn't bothered to inform anyone of my whereabouts.

Nonetheless, everything turned out fine. I showed up at the home of where the woman worked -- I'm led to believe she was a cleaning lady of some sort. Look up "cat lady" in the dictionary and you'll see her picture.

Anyway, Marley is adorable and very playful. I'd forgotten just how sharp a three-month-old cat's claws can be! But he is sweet and I was pleasantly surprised to find him curled up next to me in bed the other morning. I feel guilty that I haven't had a whole lot of time to devote to him as of yet, but I don't think I have much going on this week so I should be able to give him some much-needed attention!!

Haven't had a chance to take any pics yet, but here are a couple from the craigslist ad. Stay tuned for more Marley pics and updates.

Quizno's Secret Recipe

You're gonna hate me for sharing this story, but I can't NOT tell it.

Last week on Quizno's Day, after Deborah devoured a regular size tuna sub, we were in her car on the way back to work when she said, "Hmmm...I have a bone in my mouth."

"Where did a bone come from?" I asked.

She removed the foreign object from her mouth and placed it in the cup holder.

"From the tuna, I guess," she said.

"Why would there be a bone in tuna?"

Upon closer inspection, Deborah realized the hard, white object was none other than...the sliver of a finger nail! There was no mistaking it. That is, until the story was relayed to one of the IT dorks who sits nearby; he tried persuading her it was a toe nail.

Happy Birthday Friends!

Hope you enjoy your day!!

Round Two

Late Saturday afternoon I went to a friend's place and we drove down to Birthday Girl's house, birthday numero dose of the weekend. Birthday Girl is the mother of the most beautiful boy, baby Logan. Plans are currently in the works for him to become sponsored by a baby model agency! After playtime with Logan and delicious Cook's champagne, the three of us went to dinner at Major's while Logan enjoyed quality time with his dad.

It was a nice evening so we ate on the patio. Both friends ordered the Cajun chicken fettuccine. Birthday Girl asked the server if it was spicy, to which he replied, "No, the only spice is on the chicken. Do you want plain chicken?" Agreeing to sans seasoning, my other friend ordered her Cajun fettuccine as-is, not wanting to seem demanding because she'd complained about her nasty soda, at which point we were informed was "knock-off" Dr. Pepper. Huh? At a restaurant? Gross.

My friend ended up regretting her decision to go with Cajun-style because our server's description couldn't have been more off-base! Her dish looked like cajun soup!! The alfredo sauce wasn't even white -- it was a peach color. The chili powder was so strong that Birthday Girl and I could smell it and taste it in our throats. The one redeeming factor was you get a free dessert for your birthday. We ordered the chocolate cake and it was HUGE. I couldn't believe the size of the thing so at least my friend was able to fill up on some cake since she couldn't eat her meal.

Then when the server asked my friend if she wanted a box, she thought Birthday Girl's husband may want the leftovers, but by the time we left, she felt so ill from the stench of the fettuccine, she didn't want it in her car so we decided to "forget" and left the box on the table. Correction: it was on a pillar to the side of our table because the aroma became so nauseating. A few feet from the exit door, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Our server to the rescue!! He physically ran after us to deliver the box, savory contents and all. Garbage nowhere in sight, the box was abandoned in the parking lot.

Round two of Birthday Boy's celebration occurred later that evening. My hungry friend and I met up later downtown and did some bar-hopping, eventually winding up back at Harvey's. It was the weekend of birthdays, but 'tis the season of bachelor/bachelorette parties. Birthday Boy was with a bachelor party and another friend of mine was with a bachelorette party -- the two convening at Harvey's.

Not only was I exhausted and got a late start on drinking, but I was constantly reminded of my sober state throughout the night. I would've had to down plenty-o-shots in order to catch up to my friends. I also drove, could've left my car overnight, but I just never fully committed to getting drunk so I only had a few drinks, none of which were anywhere near as strong as the previous night.

Overall, the night was fun, but it would've been better if I hadn't been so tired. And sober. We did meet another bachelor party at Harvey's and there was one really cute guy with an eyebrow ring and tattoos. I can't recall the last time I met a hot guy. Unfortunately, he lives in Cross Lake, up by Brainerd. You gotta watch out for those good-looking types though -- the ones who know they're good-looking. They spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

So the common theme for bachelor parties is to wear white shirts to get girls to write all over them. In his group, all wore white shirts with nicknames printed on the back and his was "Pugs" but he refused to tell me the reason. I have one theory of my own. Anyone else? It's not because he has a Pug, but he does have two dogs -- a Pit Bull and American Stratfordshire Terrier. Anyway, they went to Bootlegger's and we followed for a bit, but I really don't care for that hot, crowded bar so my friend and I left right away.

We closed the night at The Drink where there was a lot of dancing and nasty, sweaty dudes with B.O. One short dude in a green print t-shirt came up behind me and kept trying to dance with me and reaching for my hand, so I kept moving further and further away. You'd think it wouldn't take long to get the hint, but he continued to stand against the railing for the next four-to-five songs staring at me and trying to pull me toward him. Once he gave up and left the dance floor, he and his buddy stood at a table nearby so I kept seeing him out of the corner of my eye. When the bar shut down, we were forced to walk past him and he repeatedly gave me the thumbs-down gesture. WTF? There's another first in my book!

Birthday Weekend

It was the weekend of birthdays -- the celebratory part anyway. Therefore I'll hold off on my birthday wishes until tomorrow, the 11th, when two of my friends share the same birthday.

My girl friend came over Friday evening for a drink and a half of pre-gaming. Then we met up with the birthday boy at Harvey's downtown. I tell ya, you truly get your $3 worth with the drinks there. The Coke in my drink was diluted by the Captain Morgan! It was a rockin' drunk time had by all.

Highlight of the evening was when my girl friend and I were sitting at a table when a guy selling flashing Hawaiian leis approached us, handing over two leis. Confused, I kindly told the guy we weren't interested in buying a lei, but he pointed to a group of guys standing in the corner, saying he bought them for us. I believe the short dude standing in the front was the one responsible. The strange thing about it was he never came over to say hello. The guys were dorky so we never went over to thank them either, but dorkiness aside, it was the first time a random bought me a lei. Was it rude we never spoke to him after that? I'll see if I can upload a pic later so you can see what I mean by "flashing lei."

Know how I know I was drunk? As young starlets learn the hard way, a picture is worth a 1,000 words. Toward the end of the evening, my friend and I were out on the dance floor when apparently, we started hanging out with another group of dorks. It most likely started when we asked them to take a picture of us. Before I knew it, I had 10 pictures of us with randoms on the dance floor -- one a carbon copy of Carrot Top (Birthday Boy coined that). Those dudes would've been a very foggy memory if it weren't for my camera. Oh, and my eyes were shut in most of the pictures! I looked obliterated. Rightfully so.

Birthday Boy had fun. He took many shots including a free one some girl was trying to pawn off on some unfortunate fool -- SoCo Lime. I wanna puke just thinking of that.

Honk if you're Ornery

A couple weeks ago, after a few gray days, I made a comment to my friend about how nice it was to see the sun again. He said: "I'm surprised you can tell by looking out your window." Ouch. For the last four years, I've stared at the back side of a warehouse. It's a terrible view. Not only does this warehouse obstruct natural light and hustle-bustle of the city, but semi-trucks are constantly coming and going, loading and unloading, interfering with my rush to and from work each day.

This morning, a truck parked on the side of the road with its flashers on decided to whip out in front of me so he could turn into the warehouse parking lot. Apparently, it didn't occur to him to wait twenty seconds for me to pass when he would've had all the time in the world to maneuver his monster of a vehicle. I am not a patient person in a situation such as this so once his front end made it halfway into the lot, I veered into the oncoming lane of traffic, only to be greeted head-on by an approaching car. We both swerved to the side, but the road is plenty wide.

As a delayed reaction, the driver of the car blared his horn after our close encounter. It was completely my fault and I'm sure he was upset, but had I known he was in the adjacent lane, I clearly wouldn't have done that! It wasn't like I woke up this morning and thought, "I'd like to get into a head-on collision today!" I reserve my horn honking for the "bozos" (my dad's term), and to alert unaware drivers of my close proximity, but what's the point after-the-fact?

Breakfast Grease

8:49 am: Deborah hit the vending machine and returned with a bag of Lay's potato chips.

123 Days 'til Twin Cities Marathon

So I've been averaging 6-6 1/2 mile runs. I don't intend to start training until June 19, which is 18 weeks out from the race (October 7). For the most part, I feel somewhat confident in my ability to run the full 26.2 miles, but that could drastically change once training begins. Granted, I've run nowhere near that distance, but I completed that 12-mile run with minor pain. I know I could've gone further that day, but it was like, what's the point?

As I mentioned before, my goal is simply to finish. If I went all-out in training, I think there'd be a good probability I'd suffer a major case of burn-out before the race. At least I know I'm not the only one taking a half-ass approach. I felt a sigh of relief when my friend sent me this article a couple weeks ago. Check it out.

"Whether covering as little as 15 miles as week or as many as 100, the primary goal of all marathon programs is the same: to build your endurance to the point where you can cover 26.2 miles. Hence, the common denominator of every program is the weekly or every-other-week "long run" — a slow-paced run that starts at whatever distance you can now complete and, over months, grows longer."

I spoke to another runner friend of mine the other day about how I need to find a 5K and 10K to do as part of my training regimen so she suggested the Aquatennial Torchlight Run. It'll be exciting because the race begins at 7:30 pm! I invite any and all to join us!

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Surely, the inane details of my pathetic life are just that fascinating...

Miscellaneous Musings

I tried my best to make this coherent, but my stream-of-consciousness worked against me, not with me. Sorry for the jumbled ramblings!

No offense to my girl friends, but 9 times out of 10, I prefer hanging out with guys. The atmosphere is just so much more relaxed. In turn, I feel comfortable, there's little forced niceness on my part. It's not catty or judgmental under the surface. You don't hear, "Wow, I really like your shirt," while one is really thinking, "That's the ugliest article of clothing I've ever seen."

Just guys hanging out drinking beer; no walking on eggshells or beating around the bush. I like blunt. I like direct. And I especially like funny. All too often, women fear offending others', namely of the same sex, but guys don't have that problem. It's considered funny to ridicule one another. As an added bonus, when a guy talks, he says exactly what he means.

I'll be the first to admit I miss college and would give anything to go back and do it over again. This time, I'd savor every last second and every time I started to complain about papers or tests, I'd think about how much worse it could be -- wasting away in a cubicle at a mind-numbing job just so I can afford a roof over my head and food in my tummy.

Something I've begun to wonder lately is if it's only natural the 'marrieds' band together and the 'singles' band together. Of course there will always be merging of the two groups, but isn't it more fun for married couples to hang out with other married folk and singles to mingle with singles? As we age, I find it interesting that our status plays such an influential role on our friendships. Ultimately, you may drift apart or grow closer to your married friends based on your own social standing.

But I digress. Severely. Sincere apologies. Saturday night my friend picked me up and we met up with his friends at Brit's. It was refreshing to see familiar faces from the past. Hadn't seen any of them since college. It was nice to catch up, see how people have changed/haven't changed, and lest we forget, reminisce about the good ol' days. They provided many laughs -- good times. :)

This was supposed to be a post about Saturday, but too many elements got my head spinning!

p.s. The staff at Brit's threaten to "pull drinks" at bar close. God, how I would love to see this play out sometime!!

Dead Duck

Last evening, I had an unusual start to my run. Lying in the center of the sidewalk outside my apartment building was a dead female duck. Feathers and body parts seemingly intact, it were as if she had dropped dead while flying, plummeting from the sky to her untimely death. Perhaps she'd undergone duck cardiac arrest or maybe her wings simply tired of flapping or perhaps she committed duck suicide over the loss of her male companion. Whatever the cause, it was an odd sight to witness. You certainly don't see that every day.

Come rain or shine, I was determined to run outdoors yesterday. The weather has been rainy and gloomy as of late, and even though it looked like there could be a torrential downpour at any given minute, I risked my luck and did a steady 6-mile run. It rained throughout most of it, but it was more of a light drizzle that was actually quite refreshing. About halfway through, a giant, dark cloud loomed overhead, so in my head, I told myself I had to outrun it, which didn't really work out so well, but it was fun to try. What can I say? Running can get boring -- sometimes you have to create your own entertainment.

Comedy Club Chuckles

It was strange...I woke up feeling a tad homesick this morning. This partying thing is getting old, or more like, I'm the one getting old! My parents and the dogs are up north at the cabin this weekend and if gas weren't so ridiculous, I'd consider driving up today. Alas, it'll be a boring day.

Hung out with my girl crush (GC) last night -- I have yet to come up with an alternative name. I called her after work and she said she was planning to hang out with her very pregnant cousin so they were going to keep it low-key by going to Acme Comedy Club.

I'd never been to Acme (you'd think I didn't grow up in MN) and I have to say, I enjoyed it way more than I ever thought I would. I especially liked the opening comedian, Amber Preston. She cracked a lot of jokes about being a single, 28-year-old female, saying something to the effect of, "It's June. Bridesmaid season, or drinking season, is officially upon us." She joked about all her friends being married and having kids and her mom's disappointment in her uncertainty of wanting children, unless there was an "accident" at which point Preston crossed her fingers.

I know my mom shares those feelings of concern for me. She tries not to preach, but occasionally makes comments expressing her serious doubts about whether I will ever get married or have kids. She and my dad think I am destined to become a cat lady, or dog lady in my case. Oh well, their angst doesn't bother me.

For the life of me, I can't recall the next opening comic's name. I believe his first name was Matthew, but had I known Acme wouldn't list it on their site, I would have made more of a point to remember his name. Oh well. He was pretty funny too. He also talked about the upcoming wedding season, saying, "Only like 6 people care about the ceremony -- the rest are waiting to drink."

He told a hilarious story about always being "that guy" on the dance floor. You know, the middle-aged uncle or friend of the groom who makes a total ass of himself. At the last wedding he attended, he said during an R.E.M. song (the name escapes me), he busted out his signature move. Normally, this is called "the worm" but as he said, he doesn't really have the physique (aka beer gut) so in his case, he essentially does a belly flop each time he hits the ground. This last time, he didn't land quite right so there was a thunderous SMACK as he made contact with the floor. Someone said, "It looks like you're bleeding." He reached back only to horridly discover a handfull of blood. His wife rushed him to the emergency room where he received 10 stitches, conveniently located in the center of his bald spot so his doctor said, "At least we don't have to shave."

The headliner was Will Durst, a political comedian. He was funny as well, but I don't enjoy the political stuff nearly as much as every day bullshit.

I noticed there were more women laughing than men during Preston's routine and during the following male's performances more men than women were laughing. Is it solely because the different genders relate better to their own sex?

After the show, me, GC and one of our guy friends (the one who introduced us) headed downtown. I found myself at the Imperial Room two Fridays in a row. Guess who else was there? The two DORKS of course. Neither approached me and most likely didn't remember me, but now I know their hangout in case I change my mind and want to go back and get their digits. Oh baby!

I was taken back to my college days last night. We each only had one cocktail at the show so by the time we got to the bar, it was 12:30 and we had some major catching up to do. We all downed 4 drinks in an hour and half. I kept thinking back to the pamphlets they distributed to us freshmen year of college titled, "Are you a binge drinker?" complete with all the warning signs. Yes, last night I was a self-proclaimed binge drinker. At least I was deliriously happy-drunk, not bitchy-drunk which I strongly tend to be at times.

Stamp Placement

Why did it take so long for drinking establishments to place those stamps indicating you're over 21 on the inside of your wrist rather than the back of your hand? I've spent the better part of my life furiously scrubbing away at ink stain blobs. The worst is when you have 2-3 of those suckers, layer upon layer that refuse to wash off the morning before the big meeting at work or worse yet, a job interview.

Never again. Stamps on the inside of your wrist effortlessly disappear! Scrub-a-dub-dub.

Car Trouble

When it comes to cars, I know how to check the oil, refill windshield washer fluid and possibly, if it were absolutely necessary, put air in my tires. Frankly, in the back of my mind, I'm picturing the tire blowing up in my face. That's the extent of my knowledge.

As a couple friends can attest to, my car had been making this horrendous screeching noise. In fact, the only time the noise subsided was when I applied the brakes. Based on my pathetic squealing explanation, my parents concluded a belt may need replacement. Nope, turned out to be the brake pads and rotors! How little I know...