The Accidental Padawan

Obtaining any level of car maintenance always proves to be the bane of my existence. Next to New York City real estate agents, Brutus and Judas, I imagine car mechanics wind up in the Inner Circle.

Throughout my life, I have probably spent more time dealing with automotive issues than I have in taking care of myself. From driving more than 20 hours to fetch my car "Christine" in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina after my college spring break to waiting weeks in smelly waiting rooms that I can never get back for a simple automotive repair, I have not have much luck with cars. At 18 months of age, the 4th Stooge threw a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a car mechanic's face after the mechanic started yelling at me because I refused to pay $125 for the 4 hour car battery installation. Lightning has also hit me while I was driving a car.



Today, I went into my local Jiffy Lube to get a simple oil change. I brought the Good Calories, Bad Calories book and began to read the 500 plus pages. There were two available seats next to me. The rest were taken.

While I was reading, a young guy comes in and sits down right next to me, not following (or caring) about the unwritten social rule of maintaining personal space when possible.

Suddenly, he looks at the TV and begins talking loudly about how electrical dog fences should be used on kids since we use leashes on them anyway. He admits to not having any children.

I quietly prayed that he does not reproduce.

As I'm trying to get through the prologue of the book, he asks, "What are you reading?"

I silently showed him the cover.

"Wow. I couldn't imagine reading a book with so many pages. I think I'd burn up all my calories just reading that."

Wishful thinking.

He interpreted my weak smile as a green light to continue. "So what do you do for a living?"

I told him that I was a nurse and a writer (someone outside of cyberspace does pay me to do so for a paltry living).

"Wow! Maybe I should think about doing that. I took some journalism courses. Hey, what do you think of my comedy act? I made you smile," he replied.

"Where do you perform your comedy acts?" I asked, making a mental note to make sure that I skip that show.

He mentions a nearby town.

"You need to take your act somewhere else. That's a tough town," I reply in a deadpan voice.

"You're funny! You should be in comedy!," he says genuinely. "But, you're right. I need to know my audience. That is great advice!," he replied enthusiastically.

"Where are you from?"

"New York," I answered, thinking he might get the subtle hint that my kind isn't particularly keen on talking with strangers.

"You came all the way here to get an oil change? Ha! Ha! Anyway, this is the last oil change for my car. It's on its last legs. I'll probably donate it to kids. But, what do kids need with an old car anyway?," he thought.

"Sell it for parts," I replied.

"That's a great idea! You are full of them!," he answers. "Hey, do you have an extra coupon?," he said pointing to the extra one I was using as a bookmark.

"Sure, here it is," I handed it over to him.

"I learned so much from you today..." and then the store manager said my car was ready.

I quickly jumped up. The Accidental Padawan was left talking to himself.

A Little Help From Alpha Male's Friends

Like the Alpha Male, my husband's friends never shy from giving me unsolicited advice. Not surprisingly, the Alpha Male's European twin, also known as The General, shared his recent story about losing weight and training for the Boston Marathon. (A pre-requisite for any encounter with The General is a required read of latest issue of The Economist cover-to-cover.)

Like the Alpha Male, The General's work and family life involve sporadic sleep schedules and over-indulging in too many carbo-filled client dinners. He read the book Good Calories, Bad Calories by Gary Taubes, which changed his life. Not only did he lose 50 pounds in three months, he was able to train and get in enough shape in six months to transform from a sedentary lump into finishing a 26 mile race.

Apparently, the book changes conventional wisdom about how much fat we should be eating. While the book seems to have an Atkins diet feel to it, I'm personally skeptical from the onset as any diet based heavily on meat doesn't seem particularly healthy considering corn feed is forced into most animals that weren't designed to eat it.

I attempted to challenge The General on this point and we did not get very far. We wound up verbally running in circles debating if our hunter and gatherer ancestors ate more hunted meat or gathered vegetables. Luckily, The General's wonderful wife brought out the most delicious grilled vegetables with balsamic vinegar to redirect us from an unprovable debate. Since I find the General a worthy debater, I'll read the book and submit a decision about whether I'll be trying Mr. Taubes' tact.



Alpha Male's high school friend and his wife, who happens to be a dermatologist, also visited us recently. The Dermatologist bestowed wonderful free samples she picked up at her medical meeting in town. Never one to turn down a freebie or feel shame for asking for free medical advice, I thanked her and proceeded to show her the luggage under my eyes that could carry enough junk to circle the Earth twice. Other than plastic surgery, I inquired what could treat it. Thinking she would recommend a high-priced product or laser solution, she said, "Try Neutrogena. Anything with retinol should help."

I'm currently on the Neutrogena Anti-Wrinkle cream for $20 for a 2-pack at BJ's. I've been using it for about 2 weeks and it seems to work well on the face, keeping the laugh and crow lines at bay. However, the eyes are still carrying a lot of crap underneath. My dermatologist friend sent ROC also, so I'll be trying that next month.