"And we'll probably mention the power in our part of the city: the streets were lit last night, starting 30 minutes before the President's motorcade came through... then they went dark an hour after he left."
I know, I know, it's mainstream media, but I've been vaguely following Brian Williams' Katrina coverage via his blog, and it seems to be less corporate status quo power structure kow-towing than I'd have expected. Including the above note.
9/15/2005
First Sock
It's my first sock. It's my first sock. It's my first sock. It's reasonable for it to be slightly imperfect. I have to keep telling myself this to avoid getting completely disgusted with repeated ripping out and confusion. And to deal with the fact that despite the ripping out there are undoubtedly mistakes that I am going to be unable to fix. This is a practice pair. This is a practice pair. This is a practice pair.
My plan is to make this pair for myself, as a learning experience, then to start working through the sock book making Christmas presents. By December I'll be a sock expert and I'll be ready to learn cables. The long term plan is to do lace next spring. See that? It's all mapped out, and I'll be a true knitter in a year.
My plan is to make this pair for myself, as a learning experience, then to start working through the sock book making Christmas presents. By December I'll be a sock expert and I'll be ready to learn cables. The long term plan is to do lace next spring. See that? It's all mapped out, and I'll be a true knitter in a year.
9/12/2005
Scary Information
Mercenaries, trained to 'kill with impunity' are patrolling New Orleans
No one seems to know under what authority are these men operating. Great. Just great.
No one seems to know under what authority are these men operating. Great. Just great.
9/11/2005
Katrina
I can't not acknowledge the hurricane, but all the words are too weak and overused. All I can do is include some links. I can't even read some of these stories without weeping.
This quotation is part of an email message written by a doctor to his friends and colleagues while he worked on rescue efforts: I have met so many people while down here -- people who were at Ground Zero at 9-11, people who have done tsunami relief, tours in Iraq -- and every one of them has said this is the worst thing they have ever seen. It's unanimous, and these are some battle-worn veterans of every kind of disaster you can imagine.
I agree with Michael Moore's politics, but I sometimes find him too hysterical, getting me worked up but leaving me feeling hopeless. His site always has good information though. Like this article about Bush's criminally shameful response.
This quotation is part of an email message written by a doctor to his friends and colleagues while he worked on rescue efforts: I have met so many people while down here -- people who were at Ground Zero at 9-11, people who have done tsunami relief, tours in Iraq -- and every one of them has said this is the worst thing they have ever seen. It's unanimous, and these are some battle-worn veterans of every kind of disaster you can imagine.
I agree with Michael Moore's politics, but I sometimes find him too hysterical, getting me worked up but leaving me feeling hopeless. His site always has good information though. Like this article about Bush's criminally shameful response.
Completion!
The Endless Baby Sweater is done! Sadly, I have no photos yet, as the band is on tour with the camera until the end of next week. I'm trying not to let anything get schmutzy on the sweater before I can document it. M.M. loves it, and I must say it looks really adorable on her. There are a couple of small flaws, but overall it came out very well and I'm pleased.
I'm now working on a pair of starter socks, to learn on. They're coming much more quickly than the sweater did, and I'm enjoying it. I got two sock books from amazon.com and I'm looking forward to making socks into the indefinite future. I am kind of pathetically interested in folk art.
In lieu of a sweater photo, here's a gratuitous cute shot of my favorite sleeping beauty. Sorry about the fuzziness. I promise sweater photography next week. And maybe socks too!
I'm now working on a pair of starter socks, to learn on. They're coming much more quickly than the sweater did, and I'm enjoying it. I got two sock books from amazon.com and I'm looking forward to making socks into the indefinite future. I am kind of pathetically interested in folk art.
In lieu of a sweater photo, here's a gratuitous cute shot of my favorite sleeping beauty. Sorry about the fuzziness. I promise sweater photography next week. And maybe socks too!
8/20/2005
Mark Haddon
It's probably trendy right now, but I have recently read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, and I really liked it. Aside from having a cutout of a dog on the front cover which M.M. loved ("It has a hole in it!! [giggle giggle]". It's a library book and I hope she doesn't destroy it before I return it), it is really moving and affecting without being trite or overdone. It's wonderful how he generates empathy for an autistic narrator who is unable to feel it for anyone else.
Here is a link to Terry Gross's interview with the author on Fresh Air.
Here is a link to Terry Gross's interview with the author on Fresh Air.
8/19/2005
Tricycle Cuteness
M.M. was handed-down (or over, as the painfully PC mom called it, presumably not wanting to wound my impoverished little dignity) this tricycle this week. She loves it, and I love the grownup-height pushing handle, but I won't be sad when her legs grow enough to let her pedal herself so I don't have to push it all the time.
The Sweater, continued
I'm in shouting distance of finishing sleeve #2 of the Endless Baby (Toddler) Sweater. When I do, I'll be faced with moving on to picking up stitches for the neck band, and that I do not know how to do. My knitting guru is not available to help me with this for two or three weeks, and I hope to be long done with the project by then. My newfound goal is to finish it before I drive to Maryland in a week and a half's time. I will have to either find another knitting guide or try to do it on my own by following the handy dandy instructions in the book.
I have to think very quickly and seriously about what I'm going to tackle next. I never thought I'd finish this sweater, so I'm not at all prepared. I'd like to try some socks, as it would make me feel like a more accomplished knitter, and I'm guessing they'd be a little more immediately gratifying. I don't have a clue how to make them, though, so I need a book, or a teacher, or something. I'm itching to know how to do cables, and lace, too. And spin and rear sheep, for that matter.
I have to think very quickly and seriously about what I'm going to tackle next. I never thought I'd finish this sweater, so I'm not at all prepared. I'd like to try some socks, as it would make me feel like a more accomplished knitter, and I'm guessing they'd be a little more immediately gratifying. I don't have a clue how to make them, though, so I need a book, or a teacher, or something. I'm itching to know how to do cables, and lace, too. And spin and rear sheep, for that matter.
8/18/2005
Climate Change
Last Saturday, 5 days ago, was, like 100˚F. Today it's freezing cold! I'm just saying... no wonder people are getting sick around here.
8/12/2005
Right Through Here is the Master Bedroom...
The house is being shown on Monday! I'm so nervous I probably won't be able to sleep all weekend. I have to work all day tomorrow, but Sunday will be for cleaning, straightening, fixing up... trying to make it look like a minimalist version one of those perfect magazines. Everywhere I look I see flaws, which take on gigantic proportions in my view: cobwebs on the fan (on the cathedral ceiling, so I can't reach it with a broom to get them down), flies swooping around, paint dribbles on the floor from when the incompetent druggies painted the walls, permanently squished pile in the rugs, scuff marks on the walls...
I know that if I didn't live here, if I visited someone in this house, I'd never notice most of these things, and if I did I'd think they were so incredibly minor there was no point wasting an ounce of energy worrying about them. But I've read those books about how if your house is completely perfect you can sell it in one day for thousands above the asking price... and if it isn't, if you don't paint the closets and scrub the pipes under the sink, forget it! Here's what I mean. And here. If anything is less than sparkling, fresh, brand-new, organized, all the buyers will see are the flaws and they'll walk away never to return.
Which is, I must say, exactly what the first two people who looked at the house did. On the other hand, that was only two people, possibly not a sizable enough sample for a real scientific test. At any rate, I'm in a swivet and in a swivet I'm sure to remain until the showing is over. At which point, I'd dearly love to sell the house!
I know that if I didn't live here, if I visited someone in this house, I'd never notice most of these things, and if I did I'd think they were so incredibly minor there was no point wasting an ounce of energy worrying about them. But I've read those books about how if your house is completely perfect you can sell it in one day for thousands above the asking price... and if it isn't, if you don't paint the closets and scrub the pipes under the sink, forget it! Here's what I mean. And here. If anything is less than sparkling, fresh, brand-new, organized, all the buyers will see are the flaws and they'll walk away never to return.
Which is, I must say, exactly what the first two people who looked at the house did. On the other hand, that was only two people, possibly not a sizable enough sample for a real scientific test. At any rate, I'm in a swivet and in a swivet I'm sure to remain until the showing is over. At which point, I'd dearly love to sell the house!
8/08/2005
News
Ibrahim Ferrer Dies at 78
: News
Ibrahim Ferrer, and Peter Jennings. Somehow news of both these deaths has shocked me more than I'd have thought, given that I never saw the Buena Vista Social Club and I don't watch tv. Just unexpected, I guess.
The sweater… I've made no progress on the sweater. I am nevertheless starting to contemplate a next project. I'm thinking about a shrug of some sort for Kathy Jo. I'd like to make something for myself for a change, but I don't want to take on anything too big and overwhelming and I don't think I can pull off wearing a shrug. I'm just not that kind of a fashion
Alternatively, I'd like to do something for The Dulaan Project . I am jumping the gun, though, because I will never finish the baby sweater.
8/06/2005
Bony Fingers
The window's fixed. I thik it turned out to be their fault after all, because after telling me that they had to go to Springfield and that they couldn't figure it out at all, they suddenly called and said they'd be here in a couple of hours and fixed it lickety split with no explanation. Not that I'm complaining. I have an intact window again, that's enough for me.
The second sleeve is progressing sloooooowly. I despair of ever finishing it, and consequently of ever starting or finishing anything else, although I have the yen to knit.
Tired, stressed, house unsold, move unmoved, feeling stuck in the mud in every meaning of the phrase.
"Work your fingers to the bone and whattaya get?
Bony fingers, bony fingers"
The second sleeve is progressing sloooooowly. I despair of ever finishing it, and consequently of ever starting or finishing anything else, although I have the yen to knit.
Tired, stressed, house unsold, move unmoved, feeling stuck in the mud in every meaning of the phrase.
"Work your fingers to the bone and whattaya get?
Bony fingers, bony fingers"
8/02/2005
Automotive
Here's what happened: My grass was really really long, and it's hard to sell a house that way. So my friend (who shall remain nameless, but who is kindly if a bit bumbling) agreed to cut it for me, as it is impossible for me to simultaneously run large sharp machinery and keep a 2 year old in one piece. Great! Short grass, everybody's happy.
When my friend got done, the rear windshield of my car was shattered. Not cracked, not dented, completely, totally, freakin' shattered. The mower apparently kicked up a stone. Damn. But, in this state, auto glass is automatically covered by your insurance, no questions asked. And the repair people come to your house or place of work and fix it for you. It's easy-peasy, mac-and-cheesy. I found a shop in the phone book that advertised weekends and holidays and late nights (this happened, of course, on Saturday evening). After some phone hassles (Mercury is retrograde after all), it was all set. They even connected me to my insurance company to get the paperwork taken care of.
So, we were stuck here Sunday. It was kind of nice. No driving anywhere, quiet day, got some stuff done, M.M. got to rest up from the long day Saturday. Monday morning dawns, bright and clear (ok, so it was cloudy. Still, it wasn't actually raining). The glass place calls at 9am, I'm first on the list of calls today. "I'll be there in a few minutes, ma'am". Great!
He shows up as promised, and I am cheery with anticipation of a fixed window. Here it comes, though: He's got the wrong part. He's confused; it looks like the right label on the box, but the window clearly won't fit my car. He calls the shop. They surmise that the factory put the wrong window in the right box. Sorry, we'll have to get another one and come back tomorrow. Nothin' we can do, ma'am.
I'm deflated, slightly pissed, unsure what to do with the day now. Shall I try to get someone to pick us up? I am supposed to go to work. It could wait until tomorrow, but that kind of throws off the whole week. I call around a little, but no one particularly wants to ferry us around today. So, change of plans, another quiet day at home. It actually goes ok. We relax, more of the same, don't get too stir crazy. I do get a sore ear from being on the phone too much. Mercury's retrograde, isn't that a bitch?
Today dawns, bright and clear (yes, really). Again, I'm cheery with anticipation. Gosh, we need to go to the grocery store by now. I really have to go to work today. At 8:30am the phone rings - those guys are efficient! But the voice on the phone tells me they can't figure out which window I need. All the boxes seem to have the same window in them, the one that is obviously the wrong size and shape for my car. My heart sinks. My ruined day flashes before me. I make meaningless demands of the woman at the glass shop "Well, you've got to do something because I've been stuck here for three days now!" She's sending the branch manager to look at my car personally and try and figure out what's going on.
He shows up an hour later, with a book full of outline drawings of every car in America. The book stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the true shape of my rear windshield, insisting that it is flat with sharp corners rather than curved and rounded. Branch Manager is stumped. I make useless suggestions: "Have you called the dealer?" "Do you want to look at my owner's manual?" No dice, on either count. I try to remain calm. He takes my VIN number and vows to drive to the distribution center (or whatever it is) and let me know what he finds out.
I guess I'm going to have to rent a car.
When my friend got done, the rear windshield of my car was shattered. Not cracked, not dented, completely, totally, freakin' shattered. The mower apparently kicked up a stone. Damn. But, in this state, auto glass is automatically covered by your insurance, no questions asked. And the repair people come to your house or place of work and fix it for you. It's easy-peasy, mac-and-cheesy. I found a shop in the phone book that advertised weekends and holidays and late nights (this happened, of course, on Saturday evening). After some phone hassles (Mercury is retrograde after all), it was all set. They even connected me to my insurance company to get the paperwork taken care of.
So, we were stuck here Sunday. It was kind of nice. No driving anywhere, quiet day, got some stuff done, M.M. got to rest up from the long day Saturday. Monday morning dawns, bright and clear (ok, so it was cloudy. Still, it wasn't actually raining). The glass place calls at 9am, I'm first on the list of calls today. "I'll be there in a few minutes, ma'am". Great!
He shows up as promised, and I am cheery with anticipation of a fixed window. Here it comes, though: He's got the wrong part. He's confused; it looks like the right label on the box, but the window clearly won't fit my car. He calls the shop. They surmise that the factory put the wrong window in the right box. Sorry, we'll have to get another one and come back tomorrow. Nothin' we can do, ma'am.
I'm deflated, slightly pissed, unsure what to do with the day now. Shall I try to get someone to pick us up? I am supposed to go to work. It could wait until tomorrow, but that kind of throws off the whole week. I call around a little, but no one particularly wants to ferry us around today. So, change of plans, another quiet day at home. It actually goes ok. We relax, more of the same, don't get too stir crazy. I do get a sore ear from being on the phone too much. Mercury's retrograde, isn't that a bitch?
Today dawns, bright and clear (yes, really). Again, I'm cheery with anticipation. Gosh, we need to go to the grocery store by now. I really have to go to work today. At 8:30am the phone rings - those guys are efficient! But the voice on the phone tells me they can't figure out which window I need. All the boxes seem to have the same window in them, the one that is obviously the wrong size and shape for my car. My heart sinks. My ruined day flashes before me. I make meaningless demands of the woman at the glass shop "Well, you've got to do something because I've been stuck here for three days now!" She's sending the branch manager to look at my car personally and try and figure out what's going on.
He shows up an hour later, with a book full of outline drawings of every car in America. The book stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the true shape of my rear windshield, insisting that it is flat with sharp corners rather than curved and rounded. Branch Manager is stumped. I make useless suggestions: "Have you called the dealer?" "Do you want to look at my owner's manual?" No dice, on either count. I try to remain calm. He takes my VIN number and vows to drive to the distribution center (or whatever it is) and let me know what he finds out.
I guess I'm going to have to rent a car.
8/01/2005
Dreamy
I've crossed some sort of threshold... I dreamed about knitting last night. This is good. Maybe it means I'll finish this sweater finally!
7/29/2005
Sleeve #2
I'm starting sleeve #2 of the Endless Baby Sweater. I've about given up on having it done before *Fenella* grows out of it. I think if I finished it NOW she'd be able to wear it for a few days. That would be kind of good actually, because it's perfect weather for it today.
However. It ain't finished and it ain't gonna be for a few more weeks at least, I think. As a new knitter I am going to need supervision to assemble and finish it. And like I said, I'm only starting sleeve 2. Sleeve 1 took … well, a long time.
However. It ain't finished and it ain't gonna be for a few more weeks at least, I think. As a new knitter I am going to need supervision to assemble and finish it. And like I said, I'm only starting sleeve 2. Sleeve 1 took … well, a long time.
7/26/2005
Minutiae Looms Large
Called realtor. Left message. No showings of the house yet.
Called insurance agent. Left no message. New $800/month rates. Need to cancel policy.
Car still runs. No decisions yet about where to live.
Called insurance agent. Left no message. New $800/month rates. Need to cancel policy.
Car still runs. No decisions yet about where to live.
5/05/2005
Hooray!
Hooray hooray hooray! The CD is finished. I sent it off to the manufacturer today. I can't really believe it's true, actually. There's a hole in my life now. And I'm in fear and trembling that there's some problem with it that I didn't catch. I'm looking forward to cleaning the apartment, selling the house, paying bills (sort of), and getting some sleep!
Hooray!
Hooray!
4/10/2005
New Moon Changes
Things are moving, it's happening quickly. In fact, I'm moving. I agreed today to move out of this apartment by May 15. I'll probably go back to The House, there to stay until it's sold, I suppose. It makes economic sense, and I'm not going to find a good rental in the Berkshires at this time of year anyway. It's not ideal; it's farther away from most of M.M.'s and my activities and social center, it's more isolated, and it's got weird associations. I'm going to have to try and set it up differently than it was when we lived there before, so I don't have creepy deja vu all the time.
My biggest fear – and also hope – is that we'll move back there and the house will sell immediately and we'll have to uproot again within a couple of months. I suppose it's really more of a hope than a fear, because it would be worse for the house not to sell and to be stuck in Pittsfield, with a big mortgage payment, for a long time.
The part of my plan that comes after the house sells is even more scary. It's to move to North Carolina. Every time I talk about it with my friends up here it starts to feel impossible and improbable. They openly say, or subtly indicate, that they'll miss me, and I know that I'll miss them, and I start to feel what a huge and irrevocable life change it is. When I'm thinking about it alone, in the shower, or driving down the road, or when I talk to my therapist or my brother or a few friends who are less invested in my staying here, it seems like a great idea: exciting, sensible, the obvious choice. Once in a while though, it hits me how deeply I'm rooted here, and that I won't be able to take those roots with me. I'll be able to visit them, of course, but it won't be the same.
I do need to start life over though. I could do it here, I suppose, but the old patterns - people, places, and things - are seductive and hard to escape. It's time to take the scary risks of doing my own things: going to school, or finding my own work, finding my own friends and community. I've been along time in the safe shadow of someone else's life's work, and I'm starting to feel like I don't have my own identity. I know the irony is probably that I have more of my own identity than ever now, and that's why I recognize how shaky it is. I hate the cliché of it, but there you are. It's a cliché because it's true.
That's why I need to go; I want to go for M.M.'s sake because I believe it will be a better place for her to grow up. The overriding reason is that I want her to grow up with family. It's questionable whether I'll ever be able to give her a sibling, or a father figure, so I want her to grow up with her cousin, with her uncle and aunt. As much as my friends love her, I've learned that blood really is thicker than water or anything else, and I want her to be grounded and rooted with people who can't drift away. And I worry about having her too close to td's family. I can't avoid the fact that she's got their genetic heritage, but I want to rescue her from them in every possible way.
Also, if I'm going to start over I might as well do it someplace with warmer weather and politer people.
My biggest fear – and also hope – is that we'll move back there and the house will sell immediately and we'll have to uproot again within a couple of months. I suppose it's really more of a hope than a fear, because it would be worse for the house not to sell and to be stuck in Pittsfield, with a big mortgage payment, for a long time.
The part of my plan that comes after the house sells is even more scary. It's to move to North Carolina. Every time I talk about it with my friends up here it starts to feel impossible and improbable. They openly say, or subtly indicate, that they'll miss me, and I know that I'll miss them, and I start to feel what a huge and irrevocable life change it is. When I'm thinking about it alone, in the shower, or driving down the road, or when I talk to my therapist or my brother or a few friends who are less invested in my staying here, it seems like a great idea: exciting, sensible, the obvious choice. Once in a while though, it hits me how deeply I'm rooted here, and that I won't be able to take those roots with me. I'll be able to visit them, of course, but it won't be the same.
I do need to start life over though. I could do it here, I suppose, but the old patterns - people, places, and things - are seductive and hard to escape. It's time to take the scary risks of doing my own things: going to school, or finding my own work, finding my own friends and community. I've been along time in the safe shadow of someone else's life's work, and I'm starting to feel like I don't have my own identity. I know the irony is probably that I have more of my own identity than ever now, and that's why I recognize how shaky it is. I hate the cliché of it, but there you are. It's a cliché because it's true.
That's why I need to go; I want to go for M.M.'s sake because I believe it will be a better place for her to grow up. The overriding reason is that I want her to grow up with family. It's questionable whether I'll ever be able to give her a sibling, or a father figure, so I want her to grow up with her cousin, with her uncle and aunt. As much as my friends love her, I've learned that blood really is thicker than water or anything else, and I want her to be grounded and rooted with people who can't drift away. And I worry about having her too close to td's family. I can't avoid the fact that she's got their genetic heritage, but I want to rescue her from them in every possible way.
Also, if I'm going to start over I might as well do it someplace with warmer weather and politer people.
3/08/2005
Snowbound
It's horrible here - snow, freezing freezing cold (like my heat can't
keep up with it, no matter where I set the thermostat), and wind like
we're on the prairie. There are drifts all over the sidewalk, my car,
and the parking lot. I didn't go out all day, but we're supposed to go
to swimming first thing in the morning, so I'm trying to shore up all
my strength for the bundling up (with a toddler), the braving the
elements (with a toddler), the digging out of the car (with a
toddler)... Have I mentioned that I can't stand winter anymore?
I tried to make biscuits today but my yeast was expired and I didn't
have a really warm place for the dough to rise and M.M. woke up and
needed tending when I was supposed to be kneading, so they came out
like fresh-baked hockey pucks. There was a leftover hunk of dough that
I didn't have cookie sheet space for so I stuck it in the oven whole
when the 'biscuits' were done, and it actually came out as a
reasonable small loaf of bread. We had it with our pasta for supper
tonight, so the whole thing wasn't a total bust.
keep up with it, no matter where I set the thermostat), and wind like
we're on the prairie. There are drifts all over the sidewalk, my car,
and the parking lot. I didn't go out all day, but we're supposed to go
to swimming first thing in the morning, so I'm trying to shore up all
my strength for the bundling up (with a toddler), the braving the
elements (with a toddler), the digging out of the car (with a
toddler)... Have I mentioned that I can't stand winter anymore?
I tried to make biscuits today but my yeast was expired and I didn't
have a really warm place for the dough to rise and M.M. woke up and
needed tending when I was supposed to be kneading, so they came out
like fresh-baked hockey pucks. There was a leftover hunk of dough that
I didn't have cookie sheet space for so I stuck it in the oven whole
when the 'biscuits' were done, and it actually came out as a
reasonable small loaf of bread. We had it with our pasta for supper
tonight, so the whole thing wasn't a total bust.
3/06/2005
Karma
So I drove to New Hampshire yesterday in a Subaru and came home in a Volkswagen. I had cold feet on the way there, thinking it was a bad idea to buy a car, that I'd regret getting rid of the Subaru, knowing that I was going to lose money even though I'd be lowering my payment.
The salesman didn't exactly pressure me; in fact he was pretty silent during the test drive, which I'm sure they'd frown on upstairs in the manager's office. But when we got back, he just assumed I was buying it. He had me fill out a credit application and then assumed I was buying it even more. And a while later, there I was, buying it.
I did get a good deal, I feel convinced. I paid less than blue book for the VW and got more than blue book for the Subaru. All of which leads me to believe what I already knew - the Subaru was a 'nicer', more valuable car. It was newer and more popular and worth more money. On the other hand, I never really liked it. I always felt guilty about not liking such a nice new car, but it was too big for me (though now that I've adapted to the bigness the vee-dub feels too small. I'm hoping to adapt back), it hurt my back, it stalled out a lot, the radio sucked, it was expensive and used more gas than I liked, and most importantly it symbolized Bad Things in my life. And the new car has heated seats and a sunroof and a payment that's over $125 lower so how can I go wrong?
The salesman didn't exactly pressure me; in fact he was pretty silent during the test drive, which I'm sure they'd frown on upstairs in the manager's office. But when we got back, he just assumed I was buying it. He had me fill out a credit application and then assumed I was buying it even more. And a while later, there I was, buying it.
I did get a good deal, I feel convinced. I paid less than blue book for the VW and got more than blue book for the Subaru. All of which leads me to believe what I already knew - the Subaru was a 'nicer', more valuable car. It was newer and more popular and worth more money. On the other hand, I never really liked it. I always felt guilty about not liking such a nice new car, but it was too big for me (though now that I've adapted to the bigness the vee-dub feels too small. I'm hoping to adapt back), it hurt my back, it stalled out a lot, the radio sucked, it was expensive and used more gas than I liked, and most importantly it symbolized Bad Things in my life. And the new car has heated seats and a sunroof and a payment that's over $125 lower so how can I go wrong?
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