A blog in two parts: Why I will never drive an SUV - Hindrichs in Europe

My sweet little Civic needed her 30,000 mile maintenance. She's been a very good girl and since I was going to get the oil changed anyway, I just told the people at the dealership to give her the treatment. Transmissions are like relationships: love it or lose it. So the Honda dealership here is very good to me and gets me a rental car for the day for free. I'm sitting in the waiting area, watching 'Access Hollywood' and wondering why anyone really cares whether or not Jessica Simpson was at the Cannes Film Festival (nothing she has done thus far could really be counted as a piece of high art cinema), when the Enterprise guy calls my name and hands me the keys to my rental car: a 2007 Kia Sportage. Now I have nothing explicitly against Kia, but I whacked my knee getting into the thing twice and I had such incredible difficulty trying to parallel park the thing (an everyday affair in Boston) that it made me long for the hour when I would get my Civic back. It was only a few hours, but still - driving the suburban land bus does nothing for me. If I lived in the Adirondacks, I'm sure there would be a rationale but here in the urban jungle, anyone who buys one of those things on purpose is a fool.

Hindrichs in Europe. My parents left today for their trip to Germany. My mother called me no less than four times yesterday to review the rules about what she can and cannot carry on the plane. I told her to check the TSA website, and if she was so paranoid about things getting confiscated to just pack everything except her meds and her chap stick in her big suitcase. My mother has never been to Europe, and my dad hasn't been in 30 years. So I'm trying to explain to them that they must stay awake, they must eat at all the normal LOCAL times, and they must drink plenty of water so that they will get over their jet lag by the second day. My dad fobs me off and says, "yes honey, I've done this before," but I remind him, "yes dad, but you were twenty and you're NOT twenty anymore." *stony silence* "Okay, we'll sleep on the plane." Yeesh. My parents also wish to keep in touch while we're away so they are going to get a prepaid euro cell phone - this to me was the best idea, even though I offered to fed-ex them my phone and my TMobile Deutschland simcard, because it's ultimately disposable and they will only use it if it's necessary. Let's not even talk about my mom trying to understand about text messaging. "It's easy mom, you just press the buttons on the phone with the letters," "Yes, but how do I make words?" Give me strength.

Dear God. Please keep my parents safe in Germany and steer them away from street vendors, gypsies, pickpockets, and people who will make them buy horrible nick-nacks which they will pass on to me. They are only tourists and they do not understand how incredibly conspicuous Americans are in foreign countries. I promise to look after my brother in their absence and, should he do something stupid or be a party to someone else doing something stupid, I promise to not read him the riot act until I am sure he is okay. That's all. Your faithful servant, Emily.
P.S. If you could also make sure they stay away from the traditional clothing, I would be most grateful. What the world needs now is NOT more Lederhosen or mother-daughter Dirndls.