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Spring; love is a monster, & so is the Chevy Volt

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Friday night I put on a big girl dress and went to a movie premiere for Spring to see Vanessa play a drug addict or something. That’s the short version of this story. The long version involves Jesse’s stupid, awful, evil Chevy Volt. That car has it in for me.

Electric things tend to break around me. No, it is *not* operator error thankyouverymuch. Let’s just say I have a magnetic personality! Computers, cellphones, copy machines… Pretty much anything electronic. They will work perfectly for one person, then I’ll do EXACTLY the same thing with the electronic device as that person, and the device won’t phucking work. It’s infuriating.

Considering my history with electric things you would think I’d avoid driving ELECTRIC cars. I didn’t like Jesse’s car even before it started mocking me. I don’t like being a passenger in it. It feels crowded and janky. The seats require you to crank them to adjust how squished you want to be. The console is confusing and not intuitive. The first time I drove it I got about ten miles into a fifty-five mile trip before it freaked out and refused to play my iPod. (My iPod that works in EVERY other car or device I plug it into.) (Hey – my iPod is ELECTRONIC! So there’s ONE thing that consistently works for me – unless it’s plugged into another electric thing?) All of Jesse’s stations are set to Howard Stern or Kidz stations, so driving that car without my iPod was akin to torture.

I wasn’t planning to take that stupid Volt to the movie premiere, but Jesse needed the Space Shuttle to transport the kids, so I prayed to the iPod gods and hoped for the best. I gave myself two and a half hours to drive fifty miles because I didn’t want to be late, and I know how much LA traffic sucks.

My trip was doomed before it even started. Instead of using my archaic navigator from the Space Shuttle, I typed my destination into the Volt. It offered me two Sunset options. I chose wrong.

I didn’t realize I chose wrong until I was almost there and I was in Santa Monica instead of Hollywood. I know my way around LA. I knew I was probably phucked, but I called Vanessa just to check if the theater was in Santa Monica for some reason. Nope. Hollywood.

Dammit.

Just before arriving at the incorrect destination the Volt decided it was time to kill the lights on the dash and navigation system. I frantically tried to figure out how to turn them back on. No dice. When I pulled over to call Vanessa and tell her I was probably going to be late, the lights came back on! I entered the new, correct destination, and the navigator told me I would be there by 7:15. It was lying. No self-respecting navigator tells you it will only take fifteen minutes to go from Santa Monica to Hollywood on a Friday night.

But I’m an optimist, so I chose to believe it. I psyched myself up, trying to get back into a happy frame of mind. Vanessa’s scene was in the first ten minutes of the film. If they had previews, I just might make it!

Then the lights went off again.

FML

I eventually made it to the theater. The movie started at 7:30. It was 7:45. I rushed through the parking garage, up to the theater, into the doors, and frantically babbled my name at will call. They gave me my ticket and I rushed to the screening room, stopping briefly in the restroom because my bladder was bursting after spending three hours in the Volt. I knew the gist of the story – a guy gets in a bar fight and runs away to Italy and meets a girl who may or may not be a monster… The screen showed a car full of dudes driving through the Italian countryside. Dammit. I had missed Vanessa’s scene. Stupid Chevy Volt in stupid LA traffic and stupid me for choosing the wrong Sunset on the navigator and stupid navigator for telling me to make three left turns instead of one right turn.

I found Vanessa and George and stepped on two nice people – ending up briefly in a sweet woman’s lap – to get to my seat. Vanessa plied us with popcorn and fancy water and cookies and chocolate. AND GUESS WHAT? Even though I  missed the beginning, the movie was pretty damn good. (It’s available everywhere – On Demand, iTunes, Amazon etc – I recommend it. It’s listed as horror (which I don’t enjoy AT ALL) but I wouldn’t classify it as a horror film. It’s more a mystery/romance/coming of age adventure.)

 

 photo spring_zpslmobkbjc.jpg(From the neck up I’m lookin’ like a taxidermied grandma, but from the neck down, vavavavoom!)

 

After the movie ended we enjoyed a Q&A with the filmmakers, then everyone went down the street to a bar. It was one of those neat, quirky places tucked into the winding Sunset strip. There was a rock-walled garden area that had lights strung up. It was pretty, so we tried to take a selfie. I failed. Apparently I am a sixty-seven year old woman when it comes to new technology now. I upgraded my phone’s operating system and now I can’t figure out how to use the damn thing. Vanessa saved the day and took this selfie of herself, me and George. Or more accurately, herself, me, George, and our boobs.

 

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It was a wonderful night out despite having to drive home with no dashboard lights. I probably sped, but I guess we’ll never know. Of course, the stupid car works perfectly for Jesse. Not so much as a blip on that damn navigation screen when he checked it out. I hope I never have to drive that infuriating vehicle again. I’d rather drive ugly, Space Shuttle minivans long past the time my kids have left the nest, than drive that stupid Chevy Volt.

 

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