Puttin the cart before the horse..and all of that before the bammy crank

I'm telling you this story because, well let's be honest, we've all had these moments...right? Right?! I mean it's one of those moments...a touch of a Jessica Simpson moment...

I love her by the way, does anyone else just love her?

So anyway, my car is making a noise. I mean a weird, extremely loud fan-ny (not fanny) type noise. Only when it idles. This concerns me. You see I'm the type to panic. Not about all things, of course. If you've got a kid with a weird rash, a ridiculous fever or a stain that won't come out, I'm your girl. I can diagnose those kinds of problems with no panic and always have a battery of solutions ready. But when the car starts making noise, I panic. I envision 357,000 dollar fixes. Nothing is ever cheap in Car Noise Panic Land. So, I panic about the noise and I call my mechanic (a nice, honest guy named Brian). Brian says to bring it in and they'll check it out while they do an oil change.

I, continuing to panic, turn (where else) to my online community of MUD friends. They try the usual questions and honestly if I were more of a woman, I might have known the answer to their terribly technical questions (where is the noise coming from? ummm, the car?). But alas I had no answers and was basically not able to give them any additional information with which to calm me down. I can only guess at how frustrating this must be. At one point, a particularly adorable and particularly so not funny friend, says this to me "You've got a fraying bammy crank in your left vorculator, and your frunchions are shot. Gonna run you $700".

I'm not sure what a bammy crank is and I'm pretty sure that a vorculator sounds like something in your heart, in your *COLD BLACK HEART*. But, I didn't want to seem like an idiot when I squealed OH NO, so I googled bammy crank. At this point I realize google has never heard of a bammy crank. Now if I were a more intelligent, less histrionic woman, I might have ignored it and stuck my tongue out at the computer. I, instead, felt the need to say "hey google's never heard of a bammy crank! Are you pulling my leg?!" Laughter ensued. I can only assume lots of it. I mean, I'm not sure it's stopped yet.

Anyway, I took the car to Brian and there was something (I didn't ask what) in the muffler and they got it out and got my oil changed and it didn't cost 700 dollars and nothing was fraying and the frunchions are fine, just fine.

If you'd like to read where my former-friend gets his witty responses to hysterical women, have a look-see here. Incidentally, when I've regained some self esteem and may start to think there's a brain residing within this pretty auburn-haired head, I'll post about the Jeep I sold because it didn't run and the panic attack I had about a car that wouldn't start because of a small, well totally unimportant detail...Another day.