I was listening to my favorite Joni Mitchell songs today, because that's just what I do sometimes, and got to "A Case Of You" and was just, I don't know, sort of taken somewhere else. And damn, the song is about Canada. Why can't anyone ever write a song about America like that? Granted, there aren't a ton of Canadian songs, so it's okay that out of the few there are one of them should be the best song ever. But it seems like all the songs about America are about rockets and veterans and land ownership... there aren't a whole lot just about soul.
Okay, that was my tree-hugging hippy rant for the week.
I went to church today. Went grocery shopping. Put gas in the car. I'm going to run out of gas in this car, I can feel it. It's crap that they made the gas tank 13 gallons... I mean, I have to fill it up just as often as some huge van or something, it's just that I buy less gas to do so. Plus, my gas light goes on when I've got three gallons left. Now, three gallons is quite a bit... not only is it almost 25% of my entire gas tank, but it's like, shit, well over 60 miles of traveling goodness. (on this last tank I got 21.04 miles to the gallon, that's all city driving right there). So when I absolutely never get gas unless the light is on. Then when I see it go on I sit there and mentally tick the miles off in my head because the needle is already on E and, well, you can see the point.
So, if anyone reading this works for ford: put a bigger gas tank in the focus! Maybe you already fixed that since the 2000 model, I dunno, I just know that this is my least favorite thing about mi coche, hands-down.
In other technology news, Dave left and took his television, so I've decided to give up t.v. for lent. So far it's actually working out quite well. I'll be an expert on NPR programming soon. I usually don't give things up for lent, but I think this may be a sign.
And if I stop watching TV I just may be able to re-grow some of those brain cells I lost watching "Joe Millionaire". Any reality show on Fox is like a black hole for I.Q., I swear.