I feel as though half my weekend was spent inside car dealerships. In truth, it wasn't quite half, but it certainly felt like it. We wound up trading in the beloved but not-especially-wonderful-for-long-road-trips Miata in for a new Mazda3. It seems like an awful lot of car for the money. I have long enough legs that buying pants can be a problem sometimes, and I can't reach the pedals on the new car with the seat pushed all the way backs. The ride is smooth, handling precise, and moves along nicely. It still feels a little bourgeois to buy a new car, but given that our payments are well south of $300, I don't feel like it's too much an extravagance.
I'm not going to go in to it too much right now, but football season in England has started and I'm going to be unreasonably obsessed with soccer for the foreseeable future. I've been a Leicester City fan since the last millennium and we've turned in to one of the most interesting, if not the best, clubs in the Premiership. While basking in the glory of a dodgy-but-satisfying win over West Ham, I wore my #9 Vardy shirt to the market. For the first time since I've been supporting the club, someone who was clearly from the U.S. of A. recognized the crest and engaged me in conversation. I get the impression this might happen a little more often in the coming months. I expect I'll be writing a lot of football this year, but I'll try to tag those posts in case footie isn't your "thing."
Now I'm wrapping up the weekend watching the X-Men and Speed Racer animated series. Nothing calms me down like trying get my head around why you'd have a car race through the middle of a mountain to determine whether or not your Aztec-ish nation will open their borders to the rest of the world. It still seems more plausible than Interstellar.