Friday, January 30, 2009

Tonight, Tonight

Bear with me please, there's a point to all this non-sense historical crap I'm beginning with.

I have a love/hate relationship with a girl who does not know that I have a love/hate relationship with her. Jaz and I were best friends in grade 9. We literally did everything together and everyone thought we were dope heads cause we could just look at each other and laugh and know exactly what the other one was thinking. (We never did drugs in high school.)

Then in grade 10, I got a boyfriend. I started to spend half my time with him. This was unacceptable to Jaz and she hated him. And she made all my other friends hate him. And she would talk about me behind my back. Fuck her. I ditched. I didn't talk to her for a year and she ended up becoming best friends with a girl named Cara.

Things are about to get complicated...

Cara and Tiff were best friends. When Cara and Jaz decided to be best friends, Tiff had no where to go and so her and I were kind of thrown together. She didn't mind hanging out with my boyfriend too, which helped. We were best friends for years! After high school ended she was still my best friend! We've had a bit of a falling out recently, but I won't get into that now.

Anyway, so it was near the end of high school when Jaz and I reconcilled, but our relationship was never the same. She was just different, you know? I missed out on a lot of things in her life that shaped her personality. She missed out on a lot of my life and things that shaped me.

I moved away and went to college for 2 years. Never saw any these people I went to high school with. I spoke occassionaly with Tiff and Jaz, visited them a couple times, too. We had some fun times after high school, but sometimes it seemed forced. I had been away for so long and they still hung out; it just wasn't the same and I was totally out of the loop. Took forever to catch up on everyone's life.

Jaz got a new boyfriend and my boyfriend really likes hanging out with her boyfriend, so naturally the four of us should go out together more often, but we don't. Sometimes Jaz doesn't want to. She's sort of a homebody. She'd rather stay in and watch a movie or something, but she never invites us over to her place to have a chill night with her. It's like if she's not out getting drunk she doesn't want to see me.

Now to the point of all this. Tonight, tonight. Tonight she is celebrating her birthday with 3 friends from her work that I don't know, (even though her b-day was at the end of December.) I most likely will not be getting drunk. It's not really my scene anymore. I'd rather toke up.

When Jaz first sees me, her eyes will light up, she'll get this huge fake smile on her face, exclaim my name, and hug me. Afterwards, she probably won't talk to me for the rest of the night, until I offer to buy her a shot for her birthday, because buying the birthday girl a shot is the polite thing to do.

She'll proceed to say something meaningless like, "Oh I really want to see your new cat!" and then never, ever make the effort to come over to actually see the cat.

She'll probably spend the entire evening laughing like a fucking moron with Cara about all their inside jokes that I'm not a part of. The more drunk she gets, the louder and more obnoxious they'll both be. I'm surprised the two of them are able to keep their boyfriends with the way they act in public. I sincerely hope my fiance divorces me if I ever become like they do. It sickens me.

Every time I log onto to Facebook I get a million updates from the both of them. It makes me angry. I think I hate them. I hate them because Tiff and I aren't as close as we used to be, and yet, somehow, Jaz and Cara have been able to keep their friendship alive and well. It eats me up inside.

Tiff and I live in different cities now, whereas Jaz and Cara worked for the same company in the same department for like, a year or something. They do have an advantage over Tiff and I, I suppose.


I wish I had a best friend, that's all. All the people I've ever become close to, close enough to be best friends with, have moved to a different city, a handful actualy moved out of the province, those fuckers. My closest friends I see only a few times a year. How pathetic. I am so pathetic for not having any real friends in my area.

Well, I do have one friend. Christine. But my fiance hates her. Lucky me.

As you get older, you rarely make new friends and you often lose the ones you had made when you were younger. This fact saddens me deeply. One day I'll wake up and have no friends at all.

Thursday, January 29, 2009


I haven't logged on in a few days now... I've been feeling really good lately, I guess that's why. And then today I noticed I've got a bunch of followers and two people posted comments and I kind of felt like an ass for the last two blogs I wrote. Life's too short for appologies though. That's something my uncle once said to me. 

I've been seeing a personal trainer at the gym all week. It feels good to work out! I love exercising. My trainer and I were doing crunches and I made a joke about how when he was through with me I was gonna look like Fergy and he laughed. Made me feel good.

Sometimes being happy feels weird... it's like, whoa, what is this feeling? You never forget what being happy feels like, but then once you are happy, you don't count how many days you are happy for. You only count how many days you've been sad for.

You never count how many days you're healhty; you only count how many days you were sick.

Isn't that odd?

Time goes by so quickly when you're feeling content. Well, time goes by quickly when you're depressed too, I think. It's like you stare at the wall without blinking, then you finally close your eyes and open them again and realize you haven't smiled in two straight weeks.

Sometimes I think that every time I'm happy, somebody in the world is suffering because of it. Maybe in order to keep the universe in balance, so many people have to be happy and so many have to be sad. If I'm happy... somebody else that was once happy is now feeling like shit because I stole it from them or something.

I don't always want to die. Just sometimes. And I'm not always depressed... but I do understand that I have a greater tendancy to become depressed as opposed to some other random person on the street.

My life's not horrible. It's just an average life. I've got a job, friends, a fiance, hobbies... There's just that one extra thing... death. I happen to think about it often.

Naturally I only write the depressing stuff in this blog. It would be boring otherwise. The blogs that get on my nerves are the ones where the writer tells us what time he awoke, that he took a shower, went to work, and how his blog is about nothing and has no real topic...

Do you really care that today I dropped a few goldfish crackers on the floor and my two cats ran over and quickly gobbled them up? Does that seriously interest you? Or how about how last night my fiance spilled a glass of water on the hardwood floor, and then got some paper towel and wiped it up.

Life's not beautiful. Life is a scientific equation. The Verve got it right:

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life; Trying to make ends meet; You're a slave to money then you die

That's exactly how I feel. Life's a bitch, then you die. Plain and simple. I'm a practicing atheist as I like to call it, and I do not believe we are on earth for any reasons other than to keep our species going just like all other species. The fate of ever creature is to die and the fate of every species is to one day become extinct. That's science. I don't believe in an afterlife.

Then what's the point of living you ask... exactly. There is no point. We are hunks of meat, slowly decaying back into the earth for the cycle to start again. There is no point to living because in the end it was all for nothing anyway.
I haven't logged on in a few days now... I've been feeling really good lately, I guess that's why. And then today I noticed I've got a bunch of followers and two people posted comments and I kind of felt like an ass for the last two blogs I wrote. Life's too short for appologies though. That's something my uncle once said to me. 

I've been seeing a personal trainer at the gym all week. It feels good to work out! I love exercising. My trainer and I were doing crunches and I made a joke about how when he was through with me I was gonna look like Fergy and he laughed. Made me feel good.

Sometimes being happy feels weird... it's like, whoa, what is this feeling? You never forget what being happy feels like, but then once you are happy, you don't count how many days you are happy for. You only count how many days you've been sad for.

You never count how many days you're healhty; you only count how many days you were sick.

Isn't that odd?

Time goes by so quickly when you're feeling content. Well, time goes by quickly when you're depressed too, I think. It's like you stare at the wall without blinking, then you finally close your eyes and open them again and realize you haven't smiled in two straight weeks.

Sometimes I think that every time I'm happy, somebody in the world is suffering because of it. Maybe in order to keep the universe in balance, so many people have to be happy and so many have to be sad. If I'm happy... somebody else that was once happy is now feeling like shit because I stole it from them or something.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Who can relate? Nobody can.

You know what... fuck the non-existant followers of my blog.

I started this blog because I thought that maybe, just mabye, I would be able to find somebody who felt the same as me. Maybe I'd find somebody who could relate to me - who could say, Hey, Suicidal, I totally get you. You want to die and I understand because there was this one time where I wanted to die too.

And I've been searching for someone like me on ever since I started this blog. I've been searching for someone who feels like I do. Someone who sometimes feels like dying. Literally.

And I guess I'm just disappointed because I haven't found anyone yet and it kind of hurts to know I'm alone in the real world and alone in the blogging world.


I spend a fair bit of time on
I'd say that I go on this site at least once a day, sometimes several times a day.
I go through many random blogs and I often find ones that are interesting to me and I add them to the blogs I follow.

Not a single person has wanted to follow my blog. I feel uninteresting. Nobody wants to read about that crazy suicidal girl. She might kill herself and that is super lame and unnecessarily depressing. Sigh.

I wish I had at least one follower, or maybe have a person post a comment at least. I post comments are complete strangers blogs. Maybe acknowledge my comment. Or perhaps my comments are boring and uninteresting aslo. You'd think they'd read my comment and then maybe visit my blog.

Or maybe they did visit my blog and found it to be unworthy of their time.

Whatever. I shouldn't care. It's just a fucking blog after all.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Girl Jumped Off Bridge

I'm at work and I hear that some girl jumped off this bridge in my city. I go to the bridge to check it out with a coworker and the girl is fine. Well, I mean she's going to live. I watched her being carried away on a stretcher and she was moaning loudly. I guess I would moan loudly too if I had just jumped off a bridge and landed on ice and snow.

A woman came up to us and asked what was going on. We told her what we knew and she said, "Why would somebody want to jump off the bridge?"

There were many things I wanted to respond with.

Maybe she thought her life wasn't worth living.
Maybe she couldn't go on any longer feeling the mental pain of life.
Maybe she cried every night hoping that she wouldn't wake up in the morning.
Maybe she just wanted to make a statement.

Life isn't puppies and rainbows for everyone. Some are better off dead. When it comes to suicide, some people forget that there are fates worse than death. Dying is a part of life and we should be able to pick when we die.

Nobody understands this because most people are afriad to die and want to live. People who are afraid of death obviously haven't experienced life quite to the potential that I personally think all people should.

If a friend approached me and confided in me that they were contemplating suicide, I wouldn't stop that person. I'd tell that friend, hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. It takes guts to kill yourself. That's why I haven't done it yet. I'm waiting. I still have things to live for right now.

I have to admit though... I kind of wish it was me who had jumped off that bridge today.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

The Painters Are In

If anyone knows what that phrase means you'll know what kind of day I'm having. A terribly painful one. Death comes slowly.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Oh, and I totally forgot about this weird thing that popped into my head while I was in the shower this morning!

Okay, so I'm in the shower, showering. I was thinking that I should update my resume because I've been at a new job since July and I haven't added it to my resume. I'm not planning on getting a new job or anything, but I just like things up-to-date.

Then I started thinking about all the jobs I've ever had that I've put on my resume and my ex boyfriend popped into my head.

I remember one summer he asked me what I was going to do for work while I wasn't in school and I said that I planned on painting schools again.

Him: You had that job last year. How many summers have you been doing that?

Me: This will be my fourth.

Him: Don't you want to do something else for the summer? Get experience doing other things?

Me: No, I don't want another job. I already have a job. It pays well and I like doing it. There's no reason to get another job.

Him: So, you don't want to experience doing other things? Why wouldn't you want to experience doing other things? Do you know how many jobs I've had? (And he starts listing his jobs)

Me: I don't fucking care all the jobs you've done. I don't want another job. I like painting.

Him: Well then how come you're not going to school to become a professional painter if you like it so much?

Me: Because I don't want to be a professional painter. I want to work in a different industry as a career.

Him: I can't believe you don't want to experience other things.

Me: (angry) What the fuck do you care what my fucking job is during the summer? It's a fucking summer job! Since my parents don't pay for my fucking education like yours do I actually have to work to pay off my debts and to live! I like painting during the summer because I'm good at it, I get to listen to my favourite music at work, and I get to work indoors in a nice air conditioned building. Plus, I get paid MORE than minimum wage. Why the fuck would I want to give up a job that I like, so that I have to waste time and money handing out resumes just to get a shitty job that I don't fucking want to do?

Him: I have to pay my parents back you know.


It was a very frustrating conversation and I started to get mad in the shower thinking about it. Nothing was ever good enough my ex. Not even my stupid summer job. I'm so glad I have an awesome boyfriend now who buys me Apple products even though I stressed that I specifically hate all Apple products ever made.

No seriously, I love my boyfriend. I don't care about the iPod. My boyfriend rocks!

Apple sucks big time

I got an iPod Nano for Christmas. At first I really hated it because I hate Apple products more than you can imagine. I make it quite clear to everyone around me my hatred for their products. It was from my boyfriend though and I was forced to love it. He knows I hate Apple but his reasoning for getting me one kind of made sense.

1. I'm on the bus for twenty minutes in the morning.

2. Sometimes at work I have nothing do and when I've exhausted every familiar site on the internet and have nobody left to text on my cell phone, it's nice to have music to listen to.

3. I'm trying to work out.

Anyway, I broke my iPod. It's like, frozen or something. I can't turn it on or charge it. I'm not happy about it either. I'm pissed off. Fucking piece of shit Apple products. I hate all of them.

Like seriously, the file managment system on the god damn Macs is so shitty. Hey, Apple! Did it ever occur to you I don't want everything to go to my fucking desktop and that maybe I'd like to have a choice?

Windows is for me. They give me the choice.

Macs are okay for editing video and music, but as far as a day-to-day computer goes. No. It's not good at all. I prefer my Windows XP.

But I hate Vista. Stupid Vista. Morons who invented Vista should be shot. Honestly. And it looks too much like a Mac.

Everything is so bubbly and cartoon-like. What is this? A computer for 12 year old girls? Cause that's what it looks like.

I'm sad my iPod's not working. I'm bored at work and have nothing to do but sit in a spinny chair and get paid to do nothing. Life's hard, eh?

Thursday, January 15, 2009


I haven't blogged in a few days because I've been in high spirits. Now, suddenly, it all seems to be for nothing.

I've been thinking about this girl I used to be best friends with in high school. We spent all our time together and after we graduated, we both got jobs at different places and she moved in with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend and I hate each other.

He's a shitty boyfriend.

During the summer before I left for college, I asked her to leave her boyfriend because they were having so many troubles and to move in with me. She had no car, so I got her a job where I worked so we could car pool together. My little sister also got a job there so the three of us would split gas. We split groceries too and housework.

It was the worst summer of my life. Never had I ever felt so disconnected from my friend.

Every day after work, we'd come home, she'd change, and her boyfriend would come pick her up, and then she wouldnt' be back until the morning when it was time to get ready for work. The whole reason she moved in was to get rid of her boyfriend!!! This drove me insane. She insisted they weren't dating when I asked.

She never did any housework. She was my friend and I didn't want to bitch at her like I bitched at my sister, but it was getting close. I just wanted to keep the house clean. She'd once in a while help after I'd say something like, "oh you know, it's your turn to do the dishes, could you please do them today.." and I felt like an ass.

Then the worst thing imaginable happened. My supposed best friend and my little sister became best friends. It was heartbreaking for me to see them together. To see their stupid fucking pictures together on facebook. I just wanted to choke them both.

The last straw fell on one hot sunny Saturday. I was in the kitchen eating cold cereal. I watched them getting ready for the day. Packing a cooler. Getting towels. Applying sunscreen. Nobody said a word to me. I was in plain view the whole time.

Finally as they put their shoes on they said to me, "bye, going to the beach!"

I said, "Thanks for inviting me bitches."

They didnt' say a word. They got into MY car because we were all sharing my vehicle. I watched them sit in the driveway, discussing something. Finally my "friend" came back inside to ask me if I wanted to come. I was so hurt. I was about to cry. I didn't let it show. 

I said it would take too long for me to get ready and to make sure my gas tank was filled completely when they got back. She left. I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I felt so fucking sorry for myself. I felt like I had been betrayed in the worst possible way. I didn't tell her how I felt. I just stopped talking to her.

My friend has a new boyfriend now. She invited me out to meet him one night. She asked me way in advance and I bailed. I would have gone, but then I made plans with a friend who was leaving town and I had to make  a decision.

I wish I could talk to my friend again. I want to ask her so many things about that summer. It still hurts when I think about it, but it was so long ago, I don't want to bring it up and rehash things, yet , I'm not over it. I don't know what to do.

Sometimes I wish that I could buy all my friends a diamond ring each. I would lovingly pick out each ring carefully with them in mind. I would wrap each ring in the most beautiful wrapping paper. Put their name on it. Stack the boxes in an appealing looking tower or pyramid.

Then I would hang myself. I don't know who would find me. My friends certainly wouldn't. I guess it would depend on where I did it. I hope that they would wear the ring and never take it off. These "friends" which I never talk to and have become aquaintences instead of true-blue buddie would think of me everytime they wore the ring I gave them. Think of how I died because of them. Because I loved them and never could show it properly. I could never make ammends. I never had the words. 

I really should just tell them how I feel, but then I might make them feel bad and I would feel bad for making them feel bad. Even though my friends make me feel bad all the time, I wouldn't want to do it back to them.

After I hang myself, I hope I become a ghost so I can haunt those who do not wear the ring.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009


I've taught myself to cry silently. I learned the art of blowing my nose without making a sound. For years, I've mastered holding back my tears so I could expel them at a later time in privacy. I've been doing all this for so long, that even when in a situation where it's acceptable to bawl my eyes out uncontrollably, and wail at the top of my lungs, I simply can not do it. My body won't let me. I trained it that well. Now, no one will ever hear my cries for help, even if I wanted them to.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Stuff that I wanna do

Something I really want to start doing is some sort of yoga, or dance class. Any kind of group exercise activity. I really want The BF to come with me. Not only do both of us need to get in shape, but participating in healthy activities as a couple makes it more fun and easier!

I think so anyway. He doesn't. Bastard.

He doesn't want to. He said he'll go to one class. Just one. He'll go to one class to make me shut up about it so that he can say he hates it and never go again.

He's "not into that kind of thing."
He's never even been in a group fitness class before. How could he not be into something he's never tried? I understand that everyone has an inclination of what they may or may not like, but you'll never truly know until you try it.

I, for example, do not think that I will enjoy sky diving because I have an intense fear of falling. Skydiving is jumping out of a plane and falling through the sky to your death when the parachute doesn't open and you have no way to save yourself. I have a legitimate reason for not wanting to ever skydive. It's a very niche market.

Group exercising is not for everyone either. Some people prefer to take long runs by them self, or else pump iron at the gym. The BF does neither of these things. Nor does he participate in any sort of team sport!

He skateboards. That's his only form of exercise. Out of 12 months of the year, he can spend 5 months skateboarding. Out of those 5 months, he cannot skateboard while it's raining, and he usually cannot skateboarding the day after it rains because the sidewalks are too wet and full of puddles which you cannot skateboard through.

On top of it all, he usually ends up hurting himself halfway through the summer because he wiped out trying to do a skateboarding trick, and then he can't skateboard for a few weeks because he's too sore. So really... We're looking at about 3 to 3.5 months of eligible exercise time.

The BF doesn't skateboard every day. Sometimes it's every other day. Sometimes he'll wait 3 or 4 days in between skateboarding. So out of 12 months of the year, he gets about 2 months worth of exercise. Disgusting.

I suppose I'm not counting sex as exercise. I'm not going to count it.

I guess I'm just upset because I try to do all the activities that he wants to do and I try to be optimistic towards them, but then when I suggest we do something that I really want to do, he's never into it. It won't be long before you're reading a post about him not wanting to play board games, trust me.

Friday, January 2, 2009


The BF was being an asshole this morning. I actually cried in the bathroom while brushing my teeth.

We'd gone to my mom's for supper and then went to check out my car to see if we could get it running smoothly without fog coming out from under the hood. No dice. There's a hole in my upper radiator hose. I called my mom's boyfriend and he said it was a cheap and easy fix; he'd have it done in 30 minutes and the part would only be $20. He said to call him in the morning before I went to work. The BF said he'd help too.

I wake up at 9. My shift starts at 10. My bus comes at 9:30.

I try to wake up The BF, but he just wants to sleep. He's been on holidays for a week and a half. I kept on trying to wake him up. I needed him to phone my mom's boyfriend while I got ready for work so that they could coordinate when shit was going to get done.

He told me to fuck off. I told him "Fuck YOU!" I was being so nice about. Gently shaking, softly calling his name. Saying Please. And he told me to fuck off. So that's when I went to the bathroom and cried. I had to stop crying quickly so I could put on make-up.

Once I got on the bus, I sat in my usual place. I noticed somebody had written the word "genitalia" on the back of one of the seats. I smiled and felt better.

Thursday, January 1, 2009


I had a fucked up crazy zombie dream last night. It was super scary.

When The BF and I first heard of the attack (in my dream that is) we nailed some long sheets of plywood to the stairs leading up to our third floor apartment so it would be like a slope. Then we boarded up our doors. We thought we'd be safe for a while until the people in our building started getting infected. We also nailed a wooden ladder just outside our balcony so that if we needed to escape we could quickly go down this hidden ladder.

Anyway, the zombies became too much. We had to make a run for it. I grabbed all of our canned food and our can opener, put them in one of those recyclable shopping bags. I also grabbed all of our knives and tools and put them in the bag as well since we don't own any guns.

We climbed down our secret ladder and bolted to The BF's car. We got there just in time and slammed the doors. The fuel gage was on a quarter tank (figures) and we drove down the main highway back to my hometown.

We met up with my mom and sister and my mom's friend from town. They joined the caravan. A girl I used to be best friends with in grade 9 and her parents joined in their car. Finally the family of another high school friend (who I may have had a tiny crush on in high school) joined in their van. My friend was MIA.

We made a plan to drive out to The BF's parent's house because they live on a farm, they have lots of supplies, guns, and it was in the middle of nowhere and we thought we'd be safe to hide out there for a while. And they have a lot of gas, a generator, tools, you name it, they had it!

We all hide out inside the house. Turned out all the lights, boarded up every door and window. The cars tanks were filled with gas for when we needed to escape. For some reason we thought that the best hiding place would be inside the basement because it's quieter and that's where all the supplies were kept. EVEN THOUGH I JUST finished reading the zombie survival guide and was told NEVER to hide in a basement cause there's no escape.

Well, we had an escape plan. There's a false ceiling in the basement, so when the zombies started to infiltrate our home, we'd climb up through a hole in the false ceiling and lay spread out flat and somehow crawl to safety. There was some sort of secret way to get outside.

It was so cold and it was snowing. We'd left little peek holes at the windows so we could see anybody coming. I remember the parents of my MIA friend being so worried because they didn't know where he was and they wanted to find him so bad.

Other than the stupid hide in the basement plan, the other dumb thing in the dream was that The BF's brothers still went outside everyday to milk the cows. I don't know how since we boarded everything up.

Zombie movies have always been the scariest movies for me. I CRIED in the theatre when I saw 28 Weeks Later. I was afriad to go into the parking lot. My heart was pounding so fast. The thought of zombies terrifies me greatly. I want to buy a gun specifically for self defence against zombies.

I hope I don't have another dream like that again.


I arrived at the New Year's party just in time. My car's engine started smoking, so I pulled over and shut it off. I got out of the car and starting cursing the frigid cold air. I was going to have to walk and I still had a ways to go. Thankfully, a woman pulled onto the street I was on and I flagged her down and begged for a ride.

Like I said, I made it to the party just in time. Made myself a quick drink and cheered with a room full of people I barely knew. HE was there. I shouldn't even say his name. I'd like to make up a fake one to give him, but I don't know if I can. I'll just refer to him in italics.

Anyway, The BF was unusually clingy tonight. It made me uncomfortable because I'm not used to being given that much attention from him in a social gathering. We like to keep separate at a party and mingle. Plus, he's too busy taking pictures all the time. He barely took any tonight. I felt like I was being babysat.

The BF was watching out for Him. I never see Him. In fact this was only our second meeting, but we talk online and text often enough. I would love to hang out with Him all the time, but he lives far away. To far to drive.

I just have to say that tonight:
A) I loved His outfits. Both of them. (He spilled a drink on himself)
B) He is definitely not fat, no matter what he thinks of himself.
C) I loved the lisp. It's too fucking cute! I just love it!

I didn't mean to make fun of it tonight, I actually really like it. Ah, he's so adorable!

He is the only person to make me doubt my relationship with my boyfriend. I want a piece so bad. (That's how I used to solve these kinds of dilemas.) I never will though and it makes me itch with curiosity! Every 'what if' has crossed my mind.

Anyway, he'll be in my head for a few days. I'll just masturbate a few times, feel guilty, and then eventually get over it for a few months until we meet again.

I was trying to be so cool tonight too... Every time someone tries to be cool, they become a loser. I was totally a loser tonight. Avoiding eye contact so nobody knew I wanted to look at him so bad.

I had the perfect excuse to throw my arms around him tight too... It's fucking New Years.

But the hostess smashed her glass end table when she caught her fiance smoking pot in the basement of their new house. The BF and I headed for the door right after. No need to be caught up in any more drama than what's necessary.

Tomorrow I'll get my car. Hopefully it didn't burst into flames or some other unfortunate event.