Oh Monday

Week 2 of work at Dolores Mission has gotten off to kind of a rocky start. The starter on Dolores (the car that my community was given to use) broke over the weekend, and I spent ALL of Monday trying to get it fixed. The whole fiasco involved several incidences that would have driven a lesser person to insanity:

1. 8:45 a.m.: Getting the car started. A call to AAA with me pretending to be my roomie, not knowing her home address (which they requested) and waiting ½ an hour for the AAA guy to get there, just to have the stupid car start the first time he tried it.

2. 9:15 – 10:30 a.m.: The drive to the mechanic’s house. Bumper-to-bumper morning rush hour traffic, changing lanes, merging, big trucks, stopping under highway over passes and asking God to not let there be an earthquake until I was out from under them, no radio, less than ¼ tank of gas (and I couldn’t fill up because that would involve shutting off a car that had no guarantee of starting again), and completely missing the road I was supposed to turn on.

3. 10:45 a.m- 1 p.m..: The mechanic wasn’t home when I got there. Guess I should’ve called ahead. So I went for a nice 3 mile walk, found a cute cybercafé, had a delicious turkey wrap with lettuce, tomato and pesto, checked my e mail etc etc. Then my phone rang and it was the mechanic, speaking in rapid, heavily-accented English, saying something about my car being on the wrong side of the street and me getting a ticket because it was street cleaning day. I walked as fast as I could toward his house and was crossing the street when I heard “Teri!” and it was the mechanic, parked at a gas station, coming to get me. Fortunately, his wife was “guarding” the car, so I avoided yet ANOTHER traffic ticket.

4. Somewhere between 10 and 1: My tea spilled in my purse. And leaked all over everything in it, including an already ragged copy of “Angels & Demons” and my digital camera, which is now ruined. Oh yea, and it soaked through my purse and onto my skirt as I rode in the mechanic’s car to rescue Dolores from the perilous exploits of ticket-happy parking cops.

5. 1:30 p.m.: Pre-approval by the boss lady required for all car repairs. And the boss lady was impossible to get a hold of, which meant more waiting for me. Hooray.

6. 3:30 p.m.: The mechanic couldn’t fix the car until the next day = I had to take the bus home. In rush hour traffic. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal, except it was almost 2 hours of public transit time, and I went the wrong way when I got off the first bus, which meant that I had to endure double the “piropos” (cat calls) as I first walked by men waiting for their busses, and then walked by again from the other way. When I finally found the right bus stop, I was on the wrong side of the street and missed my bus and didn’t have cell service so couldn’t call the metro people to find out when the next bus would come. And I was hungry and tired and just wanted to go home.

7. 3:30-5 p.m.: Things take a turn for the better. A bus going to East LA (the 30, which wasn’t the 31 I needed…) showed up and the driver promised to take me to 1st and Gage, where I needed to be. So I hopped on, paid my $1.25 and made myself at home.

8. 5:30 p.m.: I get off on 1st and Gage, make my way to my house and go straight for the peanut butter in the cupboard to smack away the frustrations of the day. And then to the fridge for a brownie and some milk. And then back to the fridge for a spoonful of fudge frosting, straight out of the container.

And that’s when I knew it would all be okay.

Homage to LA's traffic cops...

Imagine: You're driving down Caesar Chavez Avenue, the traffic is a little crazy, and your roommate is running late for work, all because of you. The light is green, the way is clear, and you make the most beautiful left hand turn you've made all day, smoothly shifting your gray, dented 1989 Nissan into second as you coast down Soto Ave. Then you hear the "woo woo" of the police motorcycle behind you, ask out loud "Is he after me?" and find that the answer is a definitive "Yes" as he pulls over behind you.

Thus the beginning of my day. Turns out there are signs "all over that intersection" (according to crabby cop guy) that say "No left turn before 9 am." So today I have been initiated into California's traffic offenders club. Not a membership I have willing accepted, but one I nonetheless possess. Too bad I couldn't have gotten the tears going on this one - it might have saved me a few points on my license and a mean look from The Terminator.

The funniest part of the whole incident was my roommates - three crammed in the back, one in front - documenting it via digital photography.

Here's to hoping the day can only get better. Have a great day and drive safe! :)

Here we are...

Well, here we are, the first week of being a JV, and so far, it's been fabulous. The orientation wrapped up on Thursday, and my 4 housemates and I made the 5 1/2 hour trip from Aptos (near San Jose) to Los Angeles, no prob (kudos to Erica, our fearless driver...).

We were all thrilled to find that our house is beautiful, spacious and has been well-taken-care-of by former JVs and by Celia, the landlord. We have a great living room/dining room, new carpet, a foosball table, avocado and orange trees, and most of us (including me) have our own bedrooms. The only down side to the place is that there are 5 girls and only 1 bathroom. But we'll make due.

Last night I had my first experience driving behind the wheel in LA traffic, when we drove from East LA to LAX airport to return the rental car. It was interesting and exciting and an adrenaline rush, for sure. And it wasn't even rush hour! The car that our community has to use is a manual 1989 Nissan with no power steering and a noisy muffler that is likely to fall off any day now. I told one of our bosses about it, and she said to let her know when it actually does fall off. She didn't seem too concerned....

Today we took a tour of a place called "Homeboy Industries", which was a program started up back in the 1980's/90's to help deter gang activity in the area. It's an AMAZING place and has had the success that I imagine many missionaries dream of. The building they're in now is HUGE and consists of a cafe, clothing shop, job services, tattoo removal, housing placement, legal counseling, narcotics/alcoholics anonymous support, educational services and anything else you can think of that would benefit anyone. It's really an impressive set up.

I also met my boss, Vince, today, and I'm pretty sure we're going to get along just fine. We've both got sarcastic senses of humor and like to kid each other a lot, so I'm expecting to have a lot of fun with him. I'm really excited to go to work on Monday - Vince and I are going to go shopping for office furniture...an event I never expected to be so excited for.

No pictures today, but I'll be sure to take a few of the house, of Dolores (the car), and of my new office (once I see it). Hope all is well! Ta-ta for now.