Because my philosophy is, if something embarrassing happens, I should share it with everyone

I consider myself a Clean Person. I kept myself from using ALL CAPS, there, because I don't want to seem obnoxious about it. But really, I like to keep my house clean. I shower regularly. My dog smells good. Marc smells good. We don't have suspicious stains on our carpets, and I have a deep and encyclopedia like knowledge about cleaning products.

And then, we get to my car.

Here is where I will heap the burning coal of blame upon Kylie's head. She SHEDS A LOT. And I WILL use all caps, because with the amount of hair that comes off of her each day, you would think a new dog would form and start demanding to be fed. Each week, you can hear a plaintive wail escaping my lips that goes something like this: "HOW, AFTER I HAVE JUST VACUUMED THIS ENTIRE HOUSE, IS THERE A FUR BALL DANCING ACROSS THE DINING ROOM FLOOR?? ARRRRRGHHHH!" And then I usually fall to the floor and begin rending my garments.

I used to employ my German Cleaning Skills™ towards my car. Somewhere over the past few years, however, I've had to stop, since I was either going to be cleaning ALL OF THE TIME, or have a life. So the car's interior went, literally, to the dogs. Fortunately, I don't have to bus anyone around in it, so I'm spared the embarrassment of people having to sit in dog hair and try to look out of the windows, which Kylie has completely smudged up with her nose. Those who dare enter know that it is not a representation of what my life looks like...thank the Sweet Lord in heaven, because my car would indicate that I live in a decrepit trailer with two pick ups out on the front lawn (on blocks, natch) and a couch on the porch where I sit in my house-coat and watch Jerry Springer all afternoon while pee'ing into my female Stadium Buddy. Want a Bud Lite?

So the other day, I went to meet Angie and a new friend, Kim, for lunch. I thought that we would be eating at their office, so I pulled up and parked, ready to call Angie to let her know I was downstairs. Imagine my dismay when I saw them walking towards me and realized, OH THE HORROR, that they wanted to go off-campus for lunch and wanted me to drive.

I think I might have pooped my pants a little.

Angie, telepathically understanding what my panicked look meant said "Oh, don't worry. I warned her about your car! And look! Her dress is made out of slippery material so the hair will glide right off!" This did not help. Especially since once we got back to my car, Kim noted "Oh, you really DO have a lot of dog hair!" Angie's descriptive powers had obviously not been sufficient. I quickly swept the crap off of the front seat, which had been further soiled that morning since my coffee carafe had leaked and I had nothing to wipe it off with. Fortunately, I am also ingenious, so poor Kim had to sit on an old grocery bag so that she would not get her dress filthy. I like my passengers to travel in style.

It should also be noted that my A/C doesn't work, and we've been dealing with temperatures in the upper 80's all week. So on the way home, Kim, foregoing the front seat and taking her chances in the back, had to ride with the window down, meaning the left side of her hair-do had a little more lift than the right once she exited my car. I'm sure she'll thank me later for injecting her style with lop-sided body. It's the kind of friend I am.

I think I might have to put Interior Auto Maintenance back on my list of things to do, since the mortification of that afternoon will burn brightly in my memory until at LEAST my next cocktail. But hey! We had sushi for lunch! And it was fabulous! And we discussed how two of our last names mean dirty things, so that was exciting!

If I don't post for a while, you'll know where I am. I'll be back when my car is clean.