Love:
* The way our little birdy chirps when I cover her for the night. She sounds just like a little cricket. They are the sweetest chirps I’ve ever heard. Sometimes instead of her name, Yoda, I call her Little Grasshopper.
* How our coat closet smells, because that’swhere we store our thousands of co-mingled candles. Our coats smell like co-mingled candles. It’s a good smell.
* Our dishwasher. I enjoy washing dishes by hand on occasion, but I marvel at how clean all of the dishes get in the dishwasher, no matter where I stack ’em in there. Even way back there turned to the side, it still finds it and gets it clean. It really is an amazing invention.
Loathe:
*When people put ads on my car — under my windshield wipers or tucked into the weather stripping on my side window. The rule is simple: Don’t touch my car.
*Sometimes I think “adults” are really just a bunch of people with grade school maturity levels minus the youthful “cute” to distract from our juvenile behavior. We just wield bigger, more expensive toys, larger vocabularies and more emotional baggage.
*Hiccups.
One Last Thing:
One day a couple weeks ago, I returned to work from my lunch errands early and decided to sit in my car in the parking lot and read my mail. One of my co-workers pulled up and parked next to me and made a couple smarty remarks and as he opened his door, it accidentally swung open too far and it hit my car. It hit hard enough that it made my car bounce a little bit and it sounded terrible. I cringed, expecting a dent. He cringed as well and leaned over to inspect where it had hit and said in a wondrous voice, “There’s no dent!”
I inspected it when I went inside and he was correct, there was no dent.
Over the seven years that I’ve owned my car, it seems that as small as it is, people go out of their way to park too close, even to “share” my parking spot with me because my car clearly doesn’t need the entire spot its parked in. Or at least that’s what their parking style tells me. As a result, my car has suffered numerous door dents down its sides and I’ve spent at least $200 on dent removal services. All this time I just figured my car was easily dentable. But now, not anymore. Because as hard as my co-worker’s car door hit my car (I felt it!), the people who actually left dents in my car must have just beat the crap out of it.
People really can be something else, can’t they?
Jammie J's Quest 
glad it didn’t dent! man, i would’ve been PISSED.
people are a-holes!
*muwah*
***
Neither of us could believe it didn’t dent! If it had, I was just going to shrug it off and start saving for the dentman again.
~Jammie J.
I beat anyone up that dents my sweeties car, even myself, XXOXOXO nananana
***
Yes, you do. hehe Um, wait, you’ve dented my car???
~Jammie J.
In 10 years I had her, I got amazingly few dings in my Miata. And I live in the land of monster pickups!
***
That is an amazing testimony. I guess my problem is I live in the land of SUVopia. Women with 1.5 kids who drive their Cadillac Escalades everywhere and don’t realize that “compact car” parking spots are not intended for their bohemoth mode of transportation.
~Jammie J.
You know, those Miata’s are so small the almost don’t qualify as cars, so it’s ok to crowd and bump them, right?
I sympathize about adults acting like kids. I manage a few of those. As if I don’t have enough children at home.
***
Depends on whether you’re prepared to deal with the wrath of a 6′ amazon woman as to whether you can crowd and bump my little Miata!
Immaturity anywhere is frustrating. *grumble*
~Jammie J.
I put a dent in my car a few weeks after I first got it.
Had to break it in.
As long as that blemish is there, *knock on wood* I won’t get another.
***
That’s what I thought, too, when I first bought my car.
Then I got rear-ended.
~Jammie J.
At least the guy acknowledged that he hit your car. I’ve had punks and soccer moms slam their door to my car and pretend like I wasn’t giving them the “WTF, dude?!?” look.
What is this “dishwasher” of which you speak? I don’t think I’ve ever used one, I wash everything by hand.
***
I don’t think he had a choice to acknowledge it, we were in the middle of a conversation when he let go of his door and *swoosh, bump* it went! Whoops!
So I guess you are the dishwasher… hehe
~Jammie J.
I get that when I drive the Smart car. People cross the line to take some of my un-used parking space. Then on the road I get cut off quite a bit. I guess in that car I am considered small and insignificant.
*sigh*
Oh, and the dishwasher? LOVE mine too!
***
I commiserate with your smallness. Errr, your car’s smallness, I mean. 😛 hehe
Yeah, I’m used to not being seen on the road. That’s why I had airhorns installed. Nothing like confusing truckers with a horn that sounds like theirs when I use them and then they can’t see the “truck” who honked!
Dishwashers are a marvel, aren’t they?
~Jammie J.