Unlucky In Luck

So, alright, lets talk about Masterchef again.  I work late some nights, and also have a life - so I don't get to watch MC nearly as much as I'd like.  Thus, I'm a little unclear on the actual layout.  As far as I know, it goes like this:

• Group challenge
• Immunity challenge
• Pressure challenge
• Masterclass
• And every once in a while there seems to be an episode where all the contestants are driven to an obscure location (ie Matt Moran's Dad's farm) and forced to cook in semi-ridiculous conditions.  I mean how many chefs do you know that actually had to dismember a lamb carcass within 60 seconds while fighting off a thunderstorm in the middle of the bush?  Just saying.  Anyway, where was I?

Until last Friday night, the only way I knew about the Masterclass episodes was though word-of-mouth, because I refused to watch them.  We all know I can't cook and will probably never learn how.  Why, then, would I want to watch someone else learn how to make 3 kinds of French desserts?  By which I really mean 'flirt shamelessly with the French pastry chef from Patisse'.  Not that I would want to watch someone else doing that, either.  Hello?  That's like watching someone else get married to Wentworth Miller from Prison Break.
French pastry chefs are HOT.
But back to the topic at hand: Masterchef.  Has anyone else heard that Mat was kicked off the show for cheating?  Apparently he used an iPhone to Google recipes when no one was looking.  What?  Since the contestants make out as if they're being filmed 24/7, I can only assume he did this in the bathroom.  It makes me feel good to know that the people from Masterchef Google things while sitting on the toilet too.  Celebrites - they're just like you and me!
But yeah.  Since the show is filmed ahead of time, Mat is still appearing on my TV screen night after night, even though in reality he was eliminated more than 2 weeks ago.  This is now the basis of Masterchefs appeal for me.  I could care less about the actual cooking; I just tune in in the hopes of witnessing Mat's dramatic eviction.  I'm also hoping for a kitchen incident involving grease fire and Sun's head.  Too mean?  Whatever, Sun annoys me.

So my car broke down the other day.  If you have driven in/complained about my car before, (or you are one of my sister's charming Navy buddies who feel inclined to comment on the fact that yes, I drive a beat-up Barrina from '97 with a disco ball hanging from the rearview mirror), you will probably find this hilarious.  You are probably glad you drive a 2003 Golf.  You are probably fighting the urge to say 'I told you so'.
Suck it!  I'm a bloody receptionist!  Do you know how much money we make?
...Okay, more than enough.  But I'm also a receptionist who pays rent and harbours a severe addiction to vintage clothing.  "Saving money" isn't exactly at the top of my list of priorities.  "Saving money for a new car" isn't even on my radar.  Besides which, I love the Barrina.  Underachieving pieces of shit gotta stick together, right?  My car and I were made for each other.
I think my favourite part about the whole 'car breakdown' scenario is that it happened in front of my parents house.  This was ideal for 2 reasons:
1) I was able to ask Dad for a ride home, and
2) It wasn't in the middle of a 6-lane freeway
I don't know if anyone else who reads this blog is the owner of a Holden bubble car from 1997...just in case, here is a visual:

It's a bit like driving a pram made out of cardboard.  This is the reason I'm so often caught breaking the limit - in my car, the only way to survive on the road is to speed away from everyone else.

Anyway.
So my beloved Lincoln (yes I named my car after a Prison Break character...what else did you expect?) died last Tuesday.  Thankfully, I had Wednesday off and was able to spend the morning fixing the engine with my Dad.  Alright, that's a bit of a stretch.  I was able to spend the morning standing around pretending to look interested while Dad explained the pros and cons of 3 different motor oil brands.  I'm still not 100% sure what I want to do with the rest of my life, but at least now I know a future in motor vehicle mechanics is out of the question.

After replacing the oil, the car seemed to be working okay, so Dad decided it would be safe for me to drive home.  And I trust my Dad, vehemently.  But more than that, I was bored out of my skull and wanted a shower.  So it didn't take much convincing.
MISTAKE.
Unfortunately, Lincoln soon decided that new motor oil wasn't the answer, and broke down again.  Fortunately though, he made this decision at the exact moment that I was pulling into our car spot at home.  Am I the luckiest unlucky person alive?  I say yes.  Who else has a car that'll break down multiple times in one week, but always in a convenient location?  I like to think this is God's way of making up for me being a complete fuckup in all other aspects of life.