Ong-Bak! Princess Pinocchio!

The other day Geoff and I went to see the uber coolest movie, Ong-Bak. Geoff had the movie downloaded and watched weeks ago but his version didn’t have subtitles. So the other day he calls me and says that he found out Ong-Bak ( with subtitles and on a BIG screen ) is playing at the mall’s theatre at 10pm. Sweet! But I was 9:20pm, I was twenty minutes away from Geoff, then we were thirty minutes away from the theatre. So I drove fast. I mean really fast. The numbers don’t work out, but we made it! We got to the mall, ran in, breathlessly bought the tickets, a red slurpy for me and a blue one for him, and made it to our seats as the first scene opened. Go see Ong-Bak! I really recommend it if you want to be completely and utterly amazed, then you like to feel all psyched and like you can totally kick ass after a movie. ‘Cause it’ll do that to you. It’s also pretty funny. Go see it now. Now…. now!

Yesterday I was HillbillyKayt. The Mazda needed to get taken into the dealership as part of the trade in deal… thing. So I went to delta, where we were keeping the Mazda, and with my fathers help (and a charge) we got it started. While it was running, surprising as it was, I started the drive to the dealership with my dad, in his work van, following me. I got down the street, on the freeway and life was good. Or at least it was good for about three and a half minutes. Then I stopped moving forward, there was a ball of blue smoke, something make a snapping sound, and the hood of my car started leaking a green spray and a stinky smoke. Yeah… so I pulled over. The Mazda was again very, very dead… and on the side of I270.

And here’s where the hillbilly-ness comes in.

My father and I called John and Kenny (old family friends) from Delta to come help us. They show up in their work van and say that they’re gonna tow the Mazda to the dealership. How you ask? Well, first you get a big ass five foot long pipe and put a chain through it. Then you wrap one end of that chain around some bit of the Mazda and the other end around some bit of John’s work van. Then you put my poor, brave little father in the very dead Mazda and tell him to steer while John tows him around the outskirts of Columbus then downtown to the dealership. Keep this in mind about the Mazda-- it has no power steering, no brakes by this point, no lights, and the car is chained three feet from the van’s bumper. On top of that, John is driving. If you knew him, you would have feared for my father’s life like I did. And if you knew Kenny, who was driving the other van with me in it, you would have feared for my life even more.

So at about 7:30pm yesterday, as it was snowing pretty heavily, I was on the verge of hysteric screams as I was whipped around in a rusty old work van that was following another rusty old work van that was towing a very rusty old Mazda with my little dad inside. I was all buckled up, had my feet up on the dashboard and my white knuckled hand holding on to the “oh shit” bar, while I tried to call Geoff to tell him I love him one last time before I was sure I’d die.

But, good news. I didn’t die. And my father didn’t die. And now I must go bowling. Wish me luck.