Wednesday, February 3, 2010

My-y-y-y apologies....

Apparently my life has become the muddled, mess of everything in the world aside from the act of blogging (okay not everything... don't go getting all worried ;))

We're always busy with things here and there; things aside from school and work, that is.

Our latest "project" has been my car :-\

"Mura-o" is it's name-o (because when we bought it... a Nissan Murano... the 'N' from the name decal on the back was missing. We have since replaced it of course but "Mura-o" will forever stick). [sings 'm' 'u' 'r-a-o', 'm' 'u' 'r-a-o'...] ahem... my apologies... breaking out in song is kind of my thing...
Anyways, back on topic. One day as I left my house to travel to work my car started doing this jumpy/jerky/hoppy thing. Mur (for short) had decided to play bucking bronco for the day is what it felt like. We went to my Dad, the Car Wizard, with questions in need of answers. I didn't want to 'hop' into a car while driving along 289 if ya-know-what-I-mean. Wizard/Dad told us it could be two things: Fuel Filter or Throttle Position Sensor.
We decided it was the filter and Trent went searching all over places online to find one. Come to find out you cannot buy just a fuel filter for a Nissan; you must buy the whole fuel pump.

Of course, of course... Why on earth would I go and think something might be easy for once? [mumbles incoherent threats to Nissan]
So we got one ordered and Trent set out Saturday morning to fix it.
This is where the 'fun' begins... aren't we all happy and playful? Fun. Fun. Fun. hmphhh!!!

Well Saturday morning as I danced around the living room to my dance, workout video (yes I have a dance workout video... don't you judge me) Trent comes walking in from the garage telling me he can't fix it...without a lift.
So off to Spur we galloped (because my car's a bucking bronco) to use the trusty car lift at the co-op there.

I, of course, stayed at the Day house playing games with my "clique" (bahahaha! that's an insider) while Trent and my Father-in-law worked on the car.

Hours pass by.

So many hours.

Finally they come home, and I can tell by the look in my poor hubby's face that it didn't go as planned.

Needless to say my car still hip-hops around town while we search everywhere possible for that other stupid part.... AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGG!!!!!! I'm not hostile at all about this, I swear.
[mumbles more angry threats]

Well I'll put this story on the shelf and let hubby have the computer back so he can keep searching for car parts.


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