Muse to Me: Meet Me @ Speedee. And Confessions.

I like getting my oil changed.

I mean, I like having the oil in my car changed.

For me, it's not unlike a visit to the spa. Sure, Speedee Oil Change is located right on El Camino. Sure it's kinda smelly and vaguely gross. And of course the steady flow of traffic does not provide much in the way of a breathtaking vista. But the fine folks at Speedee Oil Change give it their best shot. They've placed a round, stone-encrusted table and matching benches on the little concrete "patio," for one thing. You might, if you wished, play a rollicking game of dominoes with a pal while seated at such a table. Such a table would be fine for this. Never mind that one doesn't usually take a pal with them when having their oil changed; never mind that, silly!

Another thing Speedee has done is set up a pair of those hammock-y type chairs with the built-in cupholders that one brings with them when camping or, perhaps, tailgating. Of course, I could be wrong about this since the only way I could be found engaging in either of these activities would be if I were tied up and thrown in the trunk of a car that happened to be on the way to the campsite or tailgate spot. And by "engaging in" I mean "sitting around wondering where it all went wrong." Anyways, I love to sit in the hammock-y chairs. Never mind that I inhale tons of car exhaust; it's fun!

You may have surmised by now that I lied.

I don't like having the oil in my car changed.

Usually.

But the other day, while sitting in one of those awful camping chairs with the sun shining on my face, the muse planted a big wet kiss on my cheek. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. And when I was done, it felt like I'd taken a most refreshing nap.

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5 Pop Culture Confessions:

1) I don't care, I still like David Blaine. I don't care.

2) I want Elliot Yamin to win.

3) I don't understand why Ana Lucia (may she rest in peace) wore that tank top for her entire run on the show. Hi—open a suitcase and pick another top because I'm done being impressed by your body. Okay...I just addressed an entire sentence to a character on a television show. A dead character, even.

4) I like that that little ditty Jon Bon Jovi (wow, that's fun to type) sings with that country woman. Shut up.

5) Team Lachey. Totally.

Don't you dare leave me out here alone. You, too, must confess. If you want, you can confess that when you read the word "ditty" in confession #4, you thought of John Cougar Mellancamp and his boyish, tousled hair. You can even go so far as to confess that you sang the whole line ...Little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane, two American kids growing up in the heartland... and that when you sang "heartland," you used a really low voice. Just a suggestion