Jiffy Lube.

Service auction tomorrow, come bid on members of the drama club to do various tasks and chores for you. Proceeds will directly benefit the drama club to help it continue is excellence in theatre.

It will be a grand time. There will be donuts. Lots and lots of Dunkin Donuts donuts. Mbah.

Today Natale and I left rehersal with big plans to buy more plastic tablecloths to use trimming for the runway, and also to purchase beat fish to put in lovely little glass vases and use as centerpieces that will obviously be for sale, because we are the drama club, unsupported by society, and desparate for every last cent.

So we get into his car and the left blinker is tweaking out, so automatically the mechanic in me says "It means your turn singal light is out." So I got to watch Natale use his left hand signal across town. Yay for me. I couldn't believe my luck.

It only got better when Natale suggested to his dad that we take the car to JIFFY LUBE to fix the turn signal and break light, which was out also. I love his ignorance when it comes to cars. 

Since the light was deemed unfixable, turn signals remained our only option. So he sucked it up, I laughed very hard, and we set off to kidnap Samm to assist in the purchasing of beta fish. This was an adventure in itself, as the Fish Master at Petco was about 3,000 years old with about 5 teeth and, when asked "How much are the beta fish" he simply responded "Males." Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing to do with any kind of price check. Just "Males".

There are now six lovely beta fish and six lovely jars of neutralized water (adjusting itself to room temprature as we speak) in my drama locker. It looks like a fish farm. Of course, beta fish get very defensive when they see another beta fish, or even their own reflection. So each plastic cup containing a poisson is separated with a bit of paper towel.

If I open that locker tomorrow to find six lovely belly up beta fish, I will be entirely disappointed. I'll get over it though, because the money will not have gone to waste. If they for some reason all croak, or as Meghann diagnosed "get Ick" (Ick is apparantly a fatal beta fish disease) we will simply bread them, bake them, and serve em up as hors d'eurves.

Yum.