The Threshold Birthday...Wait, What's The Opposite Of Extravaganza?

First of all, I want to send out birthday greetings to the always lovely and talented Carla Gugino, who, in this picture I did in honor of her birthday, demonstrates that among her many talents she really knows how to wear a vest.



And of course if it’s Ms. Gugino’s birthday that also means that it’s Threshold’s birthday.
Yes, that’s right, it’s been three years since I single-handedly changed the world by becoming the billionth person to jump into that mass of incoherent and pointless ramblings that collectively make up what is stupidly referred to as the blogosphere.
(Huh. “Blogosphere” is actually recognized as a word by Word’s dictionary.)
So it’s been three years of examining the endless minutiae of my uneventful life, three years of random complaints, and three years of the occasional picture.
Somehow it seems like it’s been longer.
It must seem even longer to you poor, hardy souls out there who actually plod your way through it all.
Or at least skimmed through some of it.
So I want to say thanks to all of you – all six or so – who are gluttons for punishment and keep coming back for more.
Or less, as the case may be.
So with that out of the way, let’s get back to what I do best: rambling on pointlessly about nothing.
I got up early this morning to bring my car to the dealership for the safety inspection.
Remember that: the fact that it was the safety inspection is an important detail.
I went in anticipating that I’d be waiting for over an hour and would eventually have someone from the service department come out and explain all of the work that would need to be done in order for my car to pass the inspection, so I was surprised when, after about 30 minutes, my name was called by the cashier.
I paid my $28, took my key and receipt, shrugged off my confusion when she said that my “DMV paperwork” was on the front seat, as I couldn’t remember if that was normal or not, and walked out to my car.
I was about to adjust the seat and leave when I noticed that the sticker on my windshield still said 8/07. So I looked at the paperwork and saw that I’d passed…the emissions inspection.
Longtime readers may recall that there was a whole saga involving my attempts to pass the emissions inspection several months ago, but I did eventually pass it, and don’t actually need to have it done again until my registration expires in 2009.
So I went back in, explained the situation, was told that I’d be credited back the difference (safety inspection only costs $16), and sat down to wait for another 45 minutes.
Amazingly enough, the car did actually pass without needing any work.
I don’t think that’s happened since 2003.
While I was waiting there (the first time) there was also a pretty teenaged girl waiting. Not sure of her ethnicity, but I’m going to guess Indian.
She was talking on the phone in her native language, and I learned that overuse of the word “like” among teens is, like, universal.
She’d be talking, “native language, native language, like, more native language.”
I did my best not to laugh.
And now I’m home. I have to go to a training session this afternoon, with plans to stop at the comic shop on the way.
I’ll let you know how that turns out, because, after all, that’s what I do, and have been doing for three years.