The fates pooped on my head.
Apr 1, 2006 Yesterday was a flurry of activity. We were going camping, you see, and I was SO DAMN EXCITED to go. We were going with a couple of friends of ours whose anniversary happens to be a few days after ours, so it was going to be a combo camping/anniversary trip type deal.
We got all my dad's camping gear, tested out the propane lamp, bought all the food and supplies, loaded up the cars, had the camping site reservations, and were totally ready to go. Diapers were changed, hats were on, keys were in the ignition, gas tanks were filled, and oil was topped off.
We had to swing by the store on the way out of town to buy some more mantles for the gas lantern, but other than that we were in tip top shape. Bryan and I decided at the last minute to take the Jetta and the Suzuki since we have a) a ton of gear for the kids, and b) a ton of kids.
As we were driving (Bryan in the Jetta with the babies, me in the Suzuki with Marissa) I noticed that the Suzuki was acting a little strangely. We pulled up to a stop sign (Bryan was first, our friends were second, and I was last in line). Everyone got through the stop sign, and right in the MIDDLE of this BUSY intersection, the Suzuki decided to die on me. I freaked the hell out, threw that suckah in neutral, and pushed it through the intersection (the power of adrenaline can be an awesome thing), all the while yelling at the two cars in front of me, as they drove on their merry way to the store.
Marissa and I sat in the Suzuki just waiting for the other two cars to come back and get us, but it became pretty apparent that they didn't see me stop, and because there was something wrong with the battery on the Suzuki the hazard lights were very very dim, so I didn't think they could see us at all.
I, of course, DID NOT have the cell phone, so I eventually got Marissa out of the car and told her that we were going to have to walk to a pay phone. A pay phone that is less than 5 minutes away when you're driving, but is close to 30 minutes away when walking on a busy, dark street. In the rain.
We got about a mile and a half up the road when I saw Bryan driving back down the street. He didn't see us walking (did I mention it was dark? and raining?) so we hauled ass back down the street to try and catch him at a stoplight. Poor Marissa was totally wiped out, so we didn't make it to him in time, but I knew Bryan would see the Suzuki and start looking for us. I was worried that HE would be worried since we weren't with the car, so we tried to hustle as fast as we could back down the road.
Bryan finally caught up with us and drove Marissa back to the Suzuki, and I walked the rest of the way (there was too much camping gear in the back of the car to fit us both). I finally got back to the Suzuki, and luckily was able to get my hands on the jumper cables amidst all the camping shit piled back there, and he jumped the Suzuki. I decided to drive it home, since I was pretty familiar with the routine of it dying, and he was to follow RIGHT BEHIND me this time, so as not to strand my ass in the middle of nowhere.
As we drove back home I was thinking, "Wow, it's driving just fine now! This sucks! We totally should've just taken the Suzuki camping, it would've been fine!" It seemed like the second I thought that, the car died AGAIN, and we had to jump it, AGAIN. We made it home safely, and unloaded all the gear, and were really REALLY REALLY bummed that we weren't able to go camping. I'm still really bummed.
Bryan set up Marissa's kiddie tent in the living room, and she slept in that last night. Not the same, of course, but a decent compromise. The whole camping fiasco was totally my fault, since I decided (at the last minute, of course) to take the Suzuki to Joshua Tree, INSISTING that it would all be gravy. If we had stuck with the original plan, I would be hiking around the great outdoors and cooking eggs on a propane stove right now. DAMMIT.
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