Just as I was cursing out Troy...

3 large men shoved my car out of the ice it was floundering on.

After spending a good 40 minutes picking at the precipitation mixed with exhaust whilst shoveling until I hit pavement...I decided the car would likely be movable. I start my princess up...and the wheels did nothing but spin. Perhaps they even moved one centimeter. I started swearing I would never live in a place that required street parking again. No, I promised myself I would never live in a place that required a car, period. As I slammed my skull against the headrest repeatedly in frustration...a man with glassy eyes and pupils that spanned his entire eye socket walked by. Normally I would pray that someone would be so kind as to offer help. But I don't think I wanted assistance from the resident crack head.

I climbed out of the car almost face-planting on Second Avenue. A bus flew by; dangerously close to taking my young life. I continued picking at ice like a fisherman on a frozen lake. Though instead of catching fish...I would have the "privilege" of DRIVING my CAR. How novel. I took a few breaks to stare at people passing by. Pleading with my eyes for assistance, but I was too prideful to speak up. I moved forward, while almost convincing myself that it would be worth having the car towed on Tuesday in order to have it mobile again. $100+ seemed reasonable to me; so long as I didn't have to shovel dense snow blanketed by car fumes anymore.

Some people beeped and yelled at me as I kept at it. I realized later I had no idea what they were saying. Most around here speak a language unto itself...not quite English...maybe even closer to prehistoric grunting. Maybe they were offering words of encouragement. Maybe my attire was too radical like I'd been told so politely this previous summer. The only sure thing is that they should really mind their own damn business and read a book. Or a dead sea scroll because that's how evolved they seem to be. Perhaps their language has no written form yet, which would explain quite a bit. But they sure have mastered car horn technology.

Just as I was looking toward the sky pleading to a God I am not so sure I believe in, a man across the street asked if I would like him to try to get the car out. I enthusiastically said "yes", "please", and "thank you" thirty times consecutively. He also had trouble. At one point I covered my face because I honestly believed my tire would fly off and take my head with it. Shortly after, two other well fed men stepped outside of the small diner across the street I had eaten at mere hours before. Both of them pushed the back end of my car, as the original savior was steering. It finally jolted forward into safe territory. I rejoiced, and said my thank yous profusely. They laughed a little and responded with a nonchalant "you're welcome" as they sauntered across the street for more coffee and bacon.

Things to Do...

These are not "New Year's Resolutions"; but rather lifetime resolutions...as in I hope I do them before I am 80. If not I will be forever disappointed.

1.) Write more (Meaning: write things I wouldn't mind others seeing.)
2.) Learn to really use the beautiful camera I just bought.
3.) Buy a sewing machine...relearn to sew. (We all know I hate most clothing on the market...or the clothing I can actually afford. It's time to make my own shit.)
4.) Buy a damn GRE book...I guess.
5.) READ.

So I already exercise often, and I don't want to obsess over saving money because I do that. I hope this sets me apart from the banality of most resolutions that never come to fruition.