Isn't it hella late where you are, Allyson? Writing after midnight on a Saturday seems unpossible.

Or, go write! Because I want to read it!

Good date, then?

Hee. No, no date. AS has an exam in ten days, so she's home supposedly studying. (I say supposedly, because it sounds like she's done more housework than homework. Honestly, if that's what she's after, I can provide a better class of distraction.) But she did call, and that kept me up a while.

Huh. My neighbor, or someone at my neighbors, just had some really enthusiastic sex. And loud. Obviously loud, since I know about it.

I've been to Cass' place. Not only does she not share a wall with anyone, there's at least a few feet of yard between her and each of her neighbors. That's some impressive sex.

Just had a nice chat with Tom, too. waves to Tom Unfortunately, I had to cut it short because of a coughing fit, but I'll call again later. For now, I'm pro-couch drug. Or cough. Maybe I'm pro couch and cough drug. Yes.

Just went grocery shopping. I took a Zipcar, and when I picked it up, there was about 1/8 of a tank of gas. One of the Zipcar rules is not to return it with less than 1/4 of a tank, so whoever had the car before me is going to get hit with a fine. I'd reserved the car for half an hour longer than I'd thought I'd need, which turned out to be a good thing.

I grew up in New Jersey, where, by law, all gas stations are full service. I didn't have a car in college. So, I've never filled a tank of gas before. There was a gas station on the way back from the grocery store, so I stopped there. I tried the gas card. It was rejected. I asked the attendant. He said he didn't know what the problem was. I looked around in the car a little more, and found a slip of paper telling me that the PIN wasn't the number written on the card, it was something else. That pin worked. So I filled the tank about halfway, and then realized that the numbers on the display weren't moving. Went to the attendent again, who gave me this "This kid must be an idiot" look, and said that he had no idea what I was doing wrong. He asked if just charging $20 for the gas was OK, and I said sure.

Got home. Strained my shoulder trying to press the elevator button without putting the grocery bag down first. While I was putting my groceries away, one of the shelves in my fridge broke, and vegetable broth spilled all over the fruit drawer. Luckily, the only thing in there at the point was oranges.

Now, I'm pondering lunch. My plan was to make a salad, but I'm thinking there might be fewer places for things to go wrong if I just heat up leftovers instead.

Oh, Hil. I hate days like that.

I also hate pumping gas. I often wish all stations were full serve only.

You could move to Oregon. They don't let you pump your own gas there.

Hil, be sure to talk to zipcar and get a discount for yourself as well as the looser docked.

I pumped my own gas in NJ recently, but it was right outside the Holland Tunnel, so maybe the full-service-only law isn't as rigidly enforced that close to NYC? Or maybe the attendant was just being lazy.

Zipcar's lowered their prices for NYC considerably, and I'm thinking of joining. (They used to charge by hour AND mile in NYC, and now they've given us the same 125 free miles/day that their other cities have. The car rates are still pretty high, but for $50/year, free gas, and the ability to join Costco, it's looking verrrrry appealing right now.)

Huh. I've almost never encountered full service gas stations. I didn't realize they still existed.