It Isn't Much

Thank You!

I'd like to thank everyone who has voted, RT-ed my tweets, commented on my blog, put up with my blog and liked posts on Facebook to help me in my quest to be Volvo's Biggest Fan of the Big East. I appreciate your support and patience, and I never could have made it through to the final four without you. (I'd also like to make a special shout-out to my determined sisters and parents, the SO, Birmingham Magazine and a certain adorable gymnast.)

If this is your first time visiting my blog because you're trying to figure out who the girl is in Volvo's Big East Final Four, thank you for visiting. I hope you'll stay awhile and come back again soon.

Also, while I might have your attention, I'd like to point you towards a cause that is very near and dear to my heart. If you're so inclined, please learn more about my beautiful cousin Maddie and The Maddie James Foundation.

Thank you again! I wish I could thank everyone individually, but it's been a fun ride, and I couldn't have done it without your support.

D.C. Trip Part Two: The Actual D.C.

Once we finally arrived in Baltimore, the SO and I were picked up at the airport and taken to meet the Volvo.

I call it the Volvo because when you’ve spent four months hearing about a car, a girl has certain expectations. The SO and I had a bet going as to what color the car would be when we arrived. I took “black,” and he took “red.” Unfortunately, he was right. Fortunately, I got to drive a very sporty red car around all weekend, and I’ve always kind of wanted to do that.

In addition to the leather seats, amazing amount of trunk space and seat warmers, the VolvoS60 has safety features galore. There was a blind spot light, a setting that made sure the car adjusted to traffic patterns so you wouldn’t rear end someone, and it’s impossible to hit a person in the car. Impossible. (However, it is possible to hit a deer. Being an Alabama girl, I’m terrified of hitting deer – those things can kill you – but wasn’t sure I wanted to admit this to the Baltimore Volvo dealer. In hindsight, keeping that info to myself was probably a wise idea.)

D.C. Trip Part One: In Which We Barely Make It Out Of The Airport

This past weekend, Volvo graciously sponsored a trip for me to return to my Alma mater, Georgetown, and watch one of the biggest games of the season, Georgetown v. Syracuse.

Our trip began with a two-hour delay due to winds in Baltimore. As we all know, I deal with a flight delay by heading to the airport bar. I found the closest (and what I thoutht was the only) bar on the concourse and ordered a double glass of wine (it just makes it so much easier to fly). The SO ordered some water.

The SO and I were then lectured by a woman in her 50s with blond hair in the front and black hair in the back, who we began to affectionately refer to as “two-tone.” (Should you ever decide to visit the Birmingham airport and want to know who to avoid, I’ll be happy to send you her real name in private.)

“Bar seats are for people who are drinking. If you’re not drinking, you shouldn’t be sitting here,” she said. “Sorry, that’s just the way it is.” Then she shrugged and gave us a look of mild disgust.

A Recap Of The Volvo Big East Experience

Well, the time has finally come for the last Volvo blog post challenge.  As I think back over the past few months, a few things really stick out about this experience.

1. I’ve loved meeting new people and following tweets and messages from people I wouldn’t normally interact with. It’s been great to be engaged on Twitter and Facebook with new people. I even received special Valentine’s Day wishes.

2. I’ve learned a lot more about basketball. (Although, kind of like how driving me crazy is little more than a walk to the mailbox, considering where I started, it didn’t take too much to expand my sports vocabulary.)

My Trinity And Good Intentions (With Video)

I fully believe the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Of course, I’ve also always hoped the adage wasn’t referring to a literal hell. I just figured it was pretty obvious that we all get more than we bargain for when we try a little too hard.

Offer to help a neighbor recovering from surgery, and before you know it you’re mowing the lawn, painting the guest room and bathing an angry, angry dog. Want to aid an overwhelmed co-worker? You’ll be knee-deep in spreadsheets before you know it. And extending kindness to strangers? Let’s just say I’m always looking to hold a door open, not co-sign a loan.

If I don’t end up over my head, I tend to find myself "toned down." (When will I learn that the picture in my head rarely matches reality?) In fourth grade, I tried to convince our teacher we should hold an Easter egg hunt for the children of parents who were serving in the first Gulf War. We ended up making baskets out of milk cartons instead.

My Top 5 Car Care Pointers

I don’t think this will come as a surprise to most people, but I am a very neat person. I love storage bins – easily identified thanks to my handy label maker. I enjoy doing laundry, and I might consider my steam mop more than just a cleaning apparatus – it’s kind of like an anti-bacterial friend. 

So, when Volvo asked me to give my tips on car care, I knew I was ready for this challenge. While my car can be the place where some of my neatness falls apart (I occasionally run out of places for all of my empty diet coke cans), when I do clean it, that sucker is a sight to behold.

I once took a certain person’s car to the shop (who shall remain nameless), and I could tell the guy behind the counter was about to give me a lecture on car maintenance, etc. Before he even got a word out, I said, “That’s not my car. I take care of mine, and it’s clean.”

We moved on.

Staying Up Past My Bedtime, The Economy And Crepes

It turns out that a lot can change between a decade and a systemic economic collapse. Last week, Volvo challenged me to write about my top picks for late night eating near my Alma mater. While this would seem like a really easy topic for someone who likes both food and late nights as much as I do, let’s just say time and geography have not been on my side in this one. Here’s what I had to rule out:

• Casualty #1 (no longer open past 11 and moving out of the area): When I was an undergrad, my favorite stop once the bars were closed was the Philadelphia Cheesesteak Factory. It was on the way home, open until 4 a.m. and served mozzarella sticks. I never ate an actual cheese steak there, but I will vouch for their fried cheese until the day is long. Also, if you asked nicely enough, the guy behind the counter would let you call out the order numbers, and for some reason, I found announcing “Number 27” into a microphone to be a huge thrill when I’d been drinking.

• Casualty #2 (economy): There was also a somewhat brilliant delivery service called Kozmo.com in the good old days. Almost like devils on bike-back (because they delivered everything via bicycle, get it? Ok, so it’s not my best work), Kozmo.com had a menu that included everything from food and DVDs to cigarettes and condoms. Every vice could come straight to your door until the wee, wee hours of the morning. Unfortunately, Kozmo shut down in April 2001, and Wikipedia blames its death on the dot com bubble burst.

• Casualty #3 (not near campus): On days when my roommates and I felt adventurous, we’d go over to Adams Morgan. When the bars closed in that part of town, everyone stood on the sidewalks and spilled into the streets eating giant slices of pizza. I believe with all my hear that the giant slices of pizza still exist, but they don’t exactly tie into my Alma mater.

• Casualty #4 (not an actual eatery): If I was trying to “save money” (i.e., I’d just spent way too much on going-out tops at Arden B that week), I’d go home and make some Easy Mac for my fourth meal. (If there is a theme to my late night eating, that theme is cheese.)

So, in an effort to provide a list that is actually useful, I had to call in both a member of the class of ’10 and my friends who still live in the area. Sadly, one of their suggestions, the Philadelphia Pizza Company, is now closed, too. (Oh, economy, what haven’t you taken from us?) Here’s what I ended up with:

My Top 5 Road Trip Play List

Being tone deaf and a huge nerd, my iPod is an embarrassment or riches – if you really love show tunes, Shakira and soulful girl ballads about break-ups. (When I was going through some old CDs from the mid-90s, a friend commented, “I didn’t realize you were a lesbian in high school.”) I have been making mixes titled “Mellow Music” since I was about 14. There is always an Indigo Girls song and some Faith Hill.

Nevertheless, when I was a senior in college, I found burning CDs new and exciting. (We’d all just gotten over the non-event that was Y2K. It was a different time.) I currently can’t find my awesome CDs from that time – wherever they are, they’re in a red leather case – but I know that one was titled “The Party Pack,” one was dedicated to monster ballads and a third was probably make out music. (Sorry, parents.)

Anyway, “Hit me Baby One More Time,” ‘N Sync’s "Bye, Bye, Bye" and Bon Jovi’s comeback track “It’s My Life” were stand-outs of The Party Pack. I did a lot of drinking in my apartment and getting ready to go out with my roommates to that soundtrack.

My own monster ballads combined the better of two ballad collections because I remember being horrified that Guns ‘n’ Roses “November Rain” didn’t make any of the sets you could buy via a 1-800 line. (Why a 21-year-old cared this much about rock ballads, I do not know.) Sister Christian was a favorite, as was Damn Yankees for “Can You Take Me High Enough.” I also think “Winds of Change” deserves a mention for daring to make the whistle so prominent.

At Last

Volvo Off The Court Excellence Award*

*For those of you who don’t just come to my blog for Georgetown/Volvo stuff, I offer you the alternate title “In Which Laurel Attempts To Write About Sports.” I feel like that should provide some potential amusement.

I didn’t have much interest in getting my driver’s permit. My parents kept offering to take me down to the DMV, but I always refused.

“How about next week?” I’d say. “I have two tests and a soccer game before Friday.”

The truth was that I saw no point to a driver’s permit. Being able to drive with my parents in the car? Snooze. It was only when my dad pointed out that I wouldn't be able to drive without my parents in the car if I never learned how to actually drive that I finally took my permit test. It only took me six months from my 15^th birthday.