Who would have thunk it. For the first time in my life, I have a car that doesn’t break down on a bi-weekly basis yet it is constantly victimized like a hot chick in a seedy dive bar. Son of a gun, I woke up this morning to find my car on blocks (I’m so angry even curse words are escaping me; I am now using expressions like ’son of a gun’ and ‘yabba dabba doo’).

Gone are my two driver’s side tires and rims. I am now the proud owner of two beautiful chunks of wood. I think I’m going to make good use of my new possessions. I haven’t quite decided what to do with them yet but I’m considering hurling them off the Tobin Bridge.

My dad says I should be thankful the thieves were kind enough to leave my car on blocks of wood and not just on the pavement. I think, if anything, the thieves should be thankful that I was sound asleep, happily dreaming about the NFL draft and other awesome things because I can promise you, I would have done something crazy had I heard my car’s tires being stolen. My dad does have a samurai sword collection, you know.

The joke’s on them though because they stole two, balder-than-Matt-Hasselbeck tires with over 100,000 miles on ‘em and left my brand-spankin’ new right side tires alone. But I’m pretty sure it was the rims they were after and not tires and I know this by the remarkable difficulty I’ve had in locating used rims to replace the two stolen ones.

What I was able to find were wheel locking lug nuts because my dad fears the thieves will return for the other two tires tonight. It really pisses me off that I have to use wheel locks to protect standard, factory-issued rims. I’d feel justified if I had some flashy, gansta rims to protect. Word to all the late 90s Honda Civic owners… invest in WHEEL LOCKS!

I’m also considering investing in a pit bull. I’ll tie him to my car every night and place a piece of steak just outside of his reach just to make him extra mad. I’d like to see someone go after my car then.

Well, I’ve had an interesting day. This morning I quickly learned the ONLY drawback to owning a Honda Civic. As I left my house for work and casually made my Monday morning gloom and doom march to the parking lot, I noticed something was amiss. I looked to my left, looked to my right, and low and behold, my car was missing. Stolen. “Hot.”

It also doesn’t help that my car, a 1995 model, is ranked as the most stolen according to this.

Seething with rage I somehow managed to call the police. I finally got a police officer on the phone and I told him I needed to report a stolen car and told him my neighborhood.

“A black Honda with Patriots license plates?” he asked.

OK, how the hell did this dude know my car? My first thought was my car had been involved in some crazy crime like a bank heist or something equally cool. Or, what if it had been blown up or something and the fire department had put out the fire just in time to save the license plates?!

“Yes,” I replied.

“Oh, your car is over at [blah blah blah]. You can go pick it up.”

By “blah blah blah” I mean directly around the corner from my apartment building. As in, less than 100 yards away. So, I walk around the corner and this is what I find…

That would be my car, on my neighbor’s front lawn, roughly five feet from her front door. She had called the police to report a car in front of her door so that’s how the police knew it was there. OK, I see God is playing yet another practical joke on me again.

In the past, two idiots tried to steal an old car of mine. Fortunately, Dumb and Dumber didn’t actually learn how to steal a car before they attempted it. The shitheads were caught in my car with a hammer and screwdriver chiseling my steering column.

Whoever stole my car this time around knew what they were doing. The plastic thingy under my steering wheel had been carefully removed and was placed on my passenger seat. Some wires and the ignition were hanging out, but nothing had been really damaged and the car could be easily started – and driven.

But why did they leave my car on my neighbor’s front lawn? Why did they steal it and drive it a mere 100 yards? And by the way, we could see tire tracks in the grass from my street, to the corner, and finally to the lawn. And why was the cop who showed up such a dick about the whole thing? I’m a victim, damn it! Take care of me! My taxes pay your salary! *wink wink*

I guess I can’t complain too much. Replacing an ignition is A LOT cheaper than replacing a car, especially for my broke ass. My boyfriend has also decided he’s getting me The Club for Christmas. And I learned the valuable lesson that the three seconds it takes to lock your car doors is actually worth the effort.

My car has been jinxed thanks to my abnormally lucky sister who has never had to deal with things such as bad luck. Last week when discussing my car (which was once her car), she just had to continuously stress how great my car is. “180,000 miles and no problems! I mean, wow! Nothing at all! If a Honda as old as yours can still be in such excellent condition, they must make great cars!”

“KRISTINA! YOU’RE JINXING ME! I DON’T HAVE GOOD LUCK LIKE YOU!”

Damage done. The jinx has been set.

It all began with my brakes last week. Out of the blue, they began pulsating and the brake light remains on. If you’re not familiar with car stuff, brakes are kinda important. Then, a rusty crater opened up in my exhaust pipe last night further ghetto-ifying my car. And for the icing on the cake, a truck took off my side mirror yesterday.

But, given my history with automobiles, this is only the beginning. Next will come the alternators, radiators, belts of a timing and fan nature… ultimately leading to a busted transmission and/or seized engine….

So, after a quick trip to a nearby Midas (great place, honest owner, highly recommended), the damage comes to over $800 *dying* (and that’s with free brake pads!) but we’re skimping on the brakes and only doing the more damaged back brakes. BUT, knowing that this kind of stuff is mostly wear and tear, i.e., driving on inadequate, pothole-ridden Massachusetts roads ruins your car, I can’t complain much. Honda is still the best car maker in the world. It’s not Honda’s fault Massachusetts would rather spend money on symphonies than potholes.

Fortunately, everything (minus the front brakes) is getting fixed today because, I’ll be God damned if I don’t get to Patriots Training Camp tomorrow! Take that, Gods that find amusement in making my life as miserable as possible!

As you might remember, I got fired and subsequently unfired on Tuesday. As much as I didn’t want to, I had to go into work on Wednesday (which just so happens to be production day). I guess there’s some truth to that whole, “It’s not smart to live paycheck-to-paycheck” thing because then you get stuck in situations like this.

I decided I would give them a real scare and show up at 10 a.m. When I walked in, my mean boss (who, from this moment on, I will refer to as “Mean Boss”) was on my computer. I went outside and had a butt until he got off, not saying two words to him.

Once I got back in, the day went on as any other Wednesday would. I had a lot of work to do to take my mind off my seething anger. Then, Mean Boss came out of his office on another rampage. I don’t even know what set him off this time but an almost identical confrontation occurred between him and a co-worker. Again, he threatened to call the police to have her removed. What’s with the police thing?

As they were screaming at each other, I tried as hard as I could to not laugh but it was so hard when Mean Boss started screaming, “You must respect me!” Eric Cartman anyone? All that was missing from his tirade was fist-clenching and jumping up and down.

Long story short, she’s gone and I’m left there all alone with Mean Boss and Nice Boss. I now have no co-workers which is horribly depressing. Mean Boss is still mean and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it all alone, taking on the full brunt of his bitter wrath. Pray for me, and my monster.com account.