"So I'm off to EF. See you guys!"
The above sentence was what I was planning to post. Short, simple, to the point. Instead, here, have another episode of My Life Is Funny, Except When Not.
The plan was simple. A coupla hours of driving up to Brussels, an evening with unblue
, a train to EF. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, here's fucking what.
My car BROKE DOWN. AGAIN.
I wish I was kidding. I'm not. As I was commuting home from the railroad station, all gee-happy about the upcoming, you know, vacation and convention and other words in -tion , a red light came up on the dashboard.
And damned if it wasn't the radiator. Yes, my old friend the radiator. The same radiator that already cost me a nosebleed and a half but a few weeks ago when I had to have it replaced altogether.
Except this time, the car also produced 1/ a sudden burst of acceleration, like when the turbo kicks in, and 2/ vast quantities of spooge-white exhaust fumes. So I'm suspecting something rather more serious, possibly having to do with the combustion. (Might it be the head gasket? I told the mechanic, "Are you sure the head gasket is fine? The engine overheated; that'll kill the head gasket." I'd looked it up on the Internet. "Eh, no, it's fine," he said. I took his word for it. In retrospect, though, my credibility might have been somewhat damaged by the blood-smeared face thing.)
So what now? I implemented last minute contingency plans based on trading currency for more f'ing train still; hopefully it'll work out. It means a more expensive trip, and a bit longer, because I'll have to go the roundabout way through Paris , but I SHOULD still make it on the planned schedule. Thank heavens I managed to have Tuesday off.
I'll drop off the car to the repair shop tomorrow morning (another
repair shop, if at all possible), mooch a ride from jallora
to the local railroad station, and I'll be off to EF, fate willing. See you guys, I hope.
 If you guessed 'inebriation', give yourself one point. If you guessed something else, something somewhat less mentionable, give yourself ten points. (And tell me what it was.)
 Fun fact: the entire transportation network in France is based on the predicate that you can only seriously want to go to Paris. Or failing that, from Paris to the Riviera. (Somehow, it doesn't work out very well at all.)