Rejected, you tattooed b!tch

As I was driving home in the cold with the rain drip, drip, dripping on my arm, I thought: forget this, I am getting a new car this weekend. Currently I drive a 1998 Chevy Cavalier convertible. My car needs new tires, new shocks, new brakes, the heat/ a/c only works on high (so right now, I am either freezing or sweating), and the right turn signal is broken. But, is that enough to justify me going out to buy a new car that I cannot afford, or do I just get those things fixed and gamble that my ’98 baby is going to hold out a couple more years?

Today, after getting rejected to give blood on Christmas Eve (story to come), I was driving home and I had forgotten one of the big problems my car has. If you are driving in the rain, the water does not leak in my windows, but if you open the door, you have broken the ‘seal’ so to speak (the seal of the convertible top), and the water will now come in on you. So, there I was: not feeling the Christmas spirit, getting rejected to give blood, in the horrible holiday/weather traffic, freezing or sweating depending if I have the heat on or off, just trying to get home and into sweatpants for this Christmas Eve, and my car is dripping on me. Drip, drip, drip on my arm as I drive home. Yeah, that problem can’t get fixed and it might be the final nail in my car’s coffin.

Now the real story…… Christmas Eve is always our family’s biggest gathering, normally held at my aunt and uncle’s house in Chesterton, Indiana. I remember as soon as I would walk in the door, I would find my dad and sit next to him. There was no premeditation, that is just what happened. I was always daddy’s girl. This being the first Christmas without my dad, I knew that there was no way that I could go to the family gathering and keep myself together, so I opted to stay home. Not to mention, that my father played Santa Claus, not just for the little ones, but for everyone, as long as I can remember. I don’t know if they have a new plan for Santa this year. I just know that I would not be myself and I would feel more comfortable at home buried under 2 cats and a dog, and looking at old pictures.

Here are a couple pictures of my dad being Santa. One from probably 1968 or 69 and then more recent pictures.

It’s like in order to be ‘normal’ at a family gathering right now, I have to try to forget my dad so that I don’t become emotional. I don’t want to forget my dad this Christmas, so I am home.

I had heard a radio commercial last week about blood banks really needing blood at this time of year. I thought that was a great way for me to celebrate on Christmas Eve. I would work a half-day, then go straight to LifeSource to give blood. I was nervous they might reject me because I have been sick, but off I went anyway. I was filling out the paperwork and answering the questionnaire and then I saw my downfall: have you gotten a tattoo within the past year? I circled Y, and thought, well it was just about a year ago, so we’ll see what happens. My brother and I got kanji tattoos that mean ‘beloved father’ two weeks after my father died. So, when the lady asked me when I got the tattoo, I could pretty much tell her the exact date in January. She looked up the rules, and saw that it has to be a full year after getting a tattoo before you can donate blood.

So, there I was stuck in traffic, trying to get home, feeling like a rejected tattooed b!tch, with my car drip, drip, dripping on me that I decided I need a new car.