So I'm in my motel room in Adelaide, and the design of the height and angle adjustable shower head here was almost good enough to be my favourite thing this week. Seriously, as a piece of industrial design, I'm kinda in love, and I want one at my house, since ours is old and decrepit.
But really, a shower fixture does not a favourite thing make. Instead, here goes.
I love long drives, singing, loudly and badly, and so intensely that your face starts to hurt. For mile after mile.
I love finding a pace car, and becoming really really attached to it, and having one-sided, long and emotive farewells when it turns off. For the first 100km today, my pace car was a swift, and that was even better, because it was like we were a gang. And then I did see a gang - The Finks were in Tintinara when I drove through and they overtook* me about 100km up the road. And I'm not sure why the government is going through all these hoops trying to outlaw them - in 5 minutes I saw about a dozen road traffic offenses EACH, and that's more demerit points than they have, and once you're out of demerit points, you can't ride your bike any more. Unless it's a push bike. Seriously, the government should hire me. Minister for Obviousness.
I love literally rolling into Adelaide. The last 5km is all downhill.
I love this motel, for its free wi-fi and the fact that the best satay chicken in the world is directly across the road. I could have gotten it twice tonight, but I told myself no. I also love this motel for its shower fixtures.
I love my GPS. It's about 5 years old now but its still great, especially since I only paid about $100 for it new. It's called a "travel companion" too, which fits in well with my habit of anthropomorphising things. I have taught it an epic, round-Adelaide route for tomorrow, so I have time to get everything in.
I love the fact that, with facebook, it's now quite easy to bad-mouth someone that no-one who's reading it has ever met without the incompetent shop assistant ever knowing. It saves embarrassment all round, while letting me get it off my chest. Though if anyone but a teenaged boy had just pushed the scissors along the fabric, shredding the edge in the process, I probably would have leaped over the table and stabbed them with their own scissors. And granted, by putting it on facebook instead of telling it to his face, he'll probably just do it again, but the other woman behind the counter looked like an absolute cow, and I didn't want her going and being all passive aggressive no-one-else-minds at me when she was the one who should have taught him to cut the fabric in the first place.
I, apparently, love ranting about things.
Finally, I love these.
*When I say overtook, I mean my pacetruck and I got surrounded, and they sort of wove in and out of us and the car behind me and the cars coming in the other direction, with about 30cm to spare, and after I had to break suddenly for the third time, I considered just running them down, and charging the government for services rendered.