Ohgod, why can't Bostonians drive? :(

[sofiaviolet]

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The Sibling just bought a car to get to and from work, but it's already proving useful. Yesterday, we went to the South Bay Center and bought an ironing board and $100 of very heavy groceries, neither of which would have been fun to take on the T.

But Boston is not exactly easy to navigate. We accidentally wound up in the left turn lane at one point and got on the interstate - fortunately the next exit was essentially the driveway for the shopping center. And coming home we took several small wrong turns. I thought we should have brought the GPS with us, but no.

Also it's got a manual transmission. That's fun, for values of fun that include shuddering to a stop and occasionally stalling.

Next on the agenda of "omg car!" is probably a trip to Ikea. I get a table just for my crafty shenanigans!!

Comments

[fairlight]

I've been wondering, is this your poem or someone else's:

Ask me a question; I guarantee answers.
I'm not always honest face-to-face,
(Too easy to lie to beautiful eyes),
But over the wires and not-wires,
The radio waves.
But at this distance, I'm truthful.
What else is there to be?

If I had the time, I'd write everything in great detail,
Give chunks of me away, because it's all clutter.
I'm just clutter I can't keep track of.
I live an epic every day, and I'm tired, and...
I heard twenty-six is a fashionable age to die.

Also, go you, furniture is a good thing.

[sofiaviolet]

It's mine. Not a very new poem, but I have revised it recently. If it belonged to someone else, I would have included attribution or quoted just a line or two.

We've needed furniture since we moved in - this apartment has really big rooms - but we didn't want to pay delivery charges again. And I haven't made much stuff until recently, and I think The Sibling is tired of me using the dining room table.