christinex1001: (Default)
Wow, I spelled that right on the first try!

So...Gunther is totaled. Bye-bye, Gunther. It saddens me, because although we had our issues with the car, we always got it working, and Erik poured a lot of love and sweat into making sure it stayed running. Gunther was part of the family. So I'm feeling sadder than I probably should be, because really, it's just a car, and the important thing is that Erik's OK (we think...he's still having some neck pain, so he got in to see his doctor today and went and had some X-rays taken).

Friday we'll meet with our adjuster and get the check for the payout on the vehicle. Erik still wants to go to Loscon, so I guess we'll try car shopping on Sunday. We can't take too long about it, because there's a limit to how long the insurance will pay for us to have a rental after we've gotten our settlement.

No word count bar today, because with all the hullabaloo and the emails and the phone calls on the car situation, I couldn't concentrate for squat and only squeezed out a measly 500 words. At this point I really don't know how much farther I'm going to get over this long weekend, which promises to be pretty busy. Good thing I already made my 50K.

Also, very bizarre dreams last night. I can't remember everything, but at one point I was sitting at a table with Nora Roberts and a bunch of other women authors discussing how we should create our own co-op online bookstore, and then further on I was at a barbecue at a house in (of all places) Minnesota, where these three old men pulled up in a Winnebago to drink a beer with us. Only it turned out they were the Devil and a couple of his henchmen (I guess the Devil got tired of walking the earth and traded up for an RV). Then at the same party I walked into the family room, where a bunch of people were sitting in front of the fireplace and drinking beer, and one of them turned around and was General Veers (I say that because it was Julian Glover, but in Imperial uniform). He gave me a hug, and I remember thinking how nice it felt to have that warm wool uniform against my cheek as he hugged me.

Maybe this means I need to write General Veers porn. Hmm.

Half hour to go. Man, these days before a holiday drag on forever.
christinex1001: (Default)
...we're very, very close.

I'd like to say that I'll hit 50K tomorrow, but Tuesdays are always bad for me, as my manager is in a full day (she works part-time and has a very weird schedule). But if not tomorrow, then most likely Wednesday, and as long as I've kicked Nano's ass before Thanksgiving, I'm fine.



48370 / 50000 words. 97% done!

I won't get into the part where I'm pretty sure I'm barely halfway through this thing -- I've just finished setting up the complications that are going to rocket us through the second part of the novel, but at least I know where it goes from here (I even took notes! Go me!).

Gunther is at the auto-body place; I assume we'll know sometime tomorrow whether it's thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Our guy at Progressive totally has those dinks at Mercury's number, so he's not going to get them get away with much. He told us to go ahead and rent a car, because we'll be reimbursed for that, so I have my reservation in with our local Enterprise (they've been such gems in the past; I can't say enough nice things about them...and no, I'm not being sarcastic!).

Dad is out of ICU and back into a regular hospital room. They discovered an embolism in the same lung where he had cancer, but the cancer is still gone and they're treating the embolism with some pretty aggressive medications, so he's doing a lot better. No idea whether he's going to be home for Thanksgiving, but he's still with us, and that's good enough for me for now.
christinex1001: (Default)
...and the Lord taketh away.

Well, I had a pretty good day...up until the part when we were driving home from an impromptu get-together at a friend's house, and Erik ran over some large debris on the 210 freeway in the shape of some stupid plastic lawn furniture that some dumb-fuck hadn't tied down properly in the bed of his pickup truck. There wasn't much Erik could have done -- if he'd swerved he just would have hit another car, which would have resulted in even more property damage. So we get home and take a look at what the lawn chair from hell did to the front end of my Mercedes. Cracked the smaller of the passenger-side headlamps...completely took out the foglamp on that side...destroyed the lower fascia/ground effect thingy...Erik says it also put a dent in the actual fiberglass front end piece, but I didn't notice that. So now I get to waste my day off by taking my car to my mechanic to get an estimate on the damage and decide whether it's worth reporting to my insurance company or whether I'm just going to have to go completely out of pocket on this. Frankly, a lot of it I can ignore (like I ever actually use the fog lamps in the first place), but it pisses me off to no end that my poor innocent car could get abused like this just because some lackwit didn't know how to correctly strap down the load in his goddamn truck bed.

And I was in SUCH a good mood before all this happened....
christinex1001: (Default)
Actually, it feels as if it should be "part the tenth" or something, considering how long I've been dealing with these assholes, but I think this is the first time I've really ranted about it.

You'd think this would be cut and dried. I mean, I was innocently driving along, minding my own business, and some lame-ass blonde high school dipshit smashes into me. (My apologies to any blondes or high school students out there reading this, but that's what she was. And I don't have a lot of patience, because somehow I managed to make it to 27 before I was in a car accident that was even partially my fault.)

Thus begins the runaround. I couldn't even get my car in to get the body shop to look at it until last Friday (the accident happened the previous Friday), because I guess Mercury has a policy of not taking the other party's statement until they've talked to their own insured, and I guess Miss Prom Queen was too busy shagging the quarterback or whatever to answer the phone. Once I did finally get to make my statement, I took the car into the Mercury-approved body shop THE NEXT MORNING. Net result: Car is a total loss. I mean, it's driveable, but since it was an old car to begin with, basically a broken fingernail would total it.

Called the claims adjuster Monday morning. She says that the case is being transferred to Mercury's total loss department and that she doesn't know who's going to be working on it. She informs me that I should call back Wednesday afternoon or Thursday morning if I haven't heard anything from anyone, and she'll try to find out who in TL has been given the claim. So I wait, and then I call this morning...and when I still haven't heard back by 3:30 (I placed the first call at 9:30), she says oh, sorry, I just GOT the file. (Yeah, right.) Says she has to look into who was assigned the case and will call me back. Which she does, an hour later. I promptly call the person in TL who's supposed to be handling the claim. Got -- you guessed it -- voicemail. Left a message calmly explaining the situation and that I would appreciate a call back. Did she call?

Of course not. So now I have to chase down this bitch tomorrow morning, and I'm probably going to have to start writing letters, and meanwhile the car is starting to make some very scary noises from the right front wheel assembly that it wasn't making prior to the accident, and I should probably be getting a rental car until Mercury gets its thumb out of its ass but which I can't really afford to pay for if I don't know whether I'm going to get reimbursed, and right now I'm so pissed off that I'm about ready to go down to Mercury's corporate HQ (which I drive past every day on the way in from work) and start lobbing grenades or something. Except I don't have any grenades. Sigh.

I just didn't think this would be so emotionally draining. I did nothing wrong -- I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So why am I the one who's getting ass-fucked here? Frankly, the last time I was in an accident where I had to deal with an insurance company paying out for something, within this same time span (two weeks) I'd had the damage appraised, gotten a rental car, and had the car fixed and returned to me. (That was when I was with Geico.)

Add to that the fact that I haven't written anything for weeks, this hideous dry weather is sucking my will to live, and the traffic has been completely hideous this week due to Caltrans deciding to flex its sadistic muscle, and you'll see why I feel just so goddamned tired all the time. I really hate life right now.

Think I'm going to go cry and drink...not necessarily in that order.
christinex1001: (Default)
It does help somewhat to get a follow-up letter from your insurance company that says:

Percentage of fault attributed to you/your driver is: 0
Percentage of fault attributed to other person(s) involved in this accident is/are: 100%

At least Progressive still loves me. I doubt Mercury feels the same about little Miss Kaelin, however. Seriously, I'd be shocked to find out that girl had been driving any longer than six months or so.

I'm just praying I get some cash out of this. ;-)
christinex1001: (Default)
I really needed this one. Not that I've been relaxing much, since I got up early, colored my hair, and was still out the door and running errands by a little after nine. Went all over town gathering stuff for the upcoming Hogwarts-themed party I'm throwing next Saturday...it seems as if it's all coming together, but man, I am so over budget on this thing I'm not sure I even want to stop and add it all up. Probably around $300 and counting? Yikes. Well, I hope everyone has a good time. :-P

In other news, I was in a car accident on Friday. Or, to be more precise, I was sideswiped by some silly high school girl who obviously had spatial reasoning issues. Neither one of us was going fast enough for anyone to get hurt (basically, she was trying to pull out of the driveway of a gas station, underestimated how much space she had, realized she was going to hit someone else, panicked, and then swerved into my lane, which would have been a capital idea if I hadn't already been occupying the space she was trying to occupy). So it's completely her fault, and it's her daddy's insurance, so I may actually come out ahead at this convention, as my friend Ron used to say. I was about to buy a new car anyway in the next few weeks, so I'm going to use whatever money they give me to do a minimal fix on my car (the passenger door won't open, so I need to have that repaired, but I don't care about the cosmetic damage), and then I'll put the rest toward a down payment on the new wheels. The Lord, as they say, works in mysterious ways.

Still have writer's block, though. :-(

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