Oh, they tell me of an unclouded day

According to my earnest and sincere MINI salesman, my car is in transit (read: somewhere on a barge in the Atlantic) and will be arriving in the next few weeks. I've mixed feelings about this. A girl at work just got a brand new, navy blue Altima, and I love the look and the smell and the beauty of a new car. On the other hand, once my car gets here I've got to start paying the thing off, which will suck. And I've got to get rid of my current car, timing it so that I don't have to pay insurance and registration on TWO cars, but maybe I should keep the current car until I can drive the MINI without fear. And the current car is due for inspection in September. So what do I do about THAT?

Once you hit adulthood, is there anything in life that's just pure, unadulterated, hassle-less joy? I think, cynically, that the answer is no.

I'm going to Regina, Saskatchewan for my birthday (September 19. Mark your calendars.) I like the randomness of that location. I've chosen it only because my brother lives there, and mostly I just tell people I'm going to Canada. Saskatchewan results in odd looks, and Regina results in REALLY odd looks, because it's pronounced with a long "i" and is easily misheard as a female body part. There aren't many words in the English language that end with the "jyna" sound.

September promises to be a much more interesting month. Really, August has gone on long enough.