Awww, cheese and crackers!

My brakes have been squeaking for a good few weeks now, but I found time today to get them fixed by my dad-thanks, Dad! What took about 20 minutes the last time turned into a 3 hour ordeal, but I was finally on the road...for about a mile until they locked, the tires began smoking, and I could no longer move. I frantically searched for the hazard lights button (apparently it's easy to miss when it's BIG and RED) called my parents who were headed over to Michael and Jaime's, they flipped around, and my dad helped direct me back home. (In the meantime, jerkface man in the big truck laid on his horn and threw up his hands when I directed him to go around me; it was a lovely lady who took the time to check on me and offer her phone-thanks, good Samaritan!) The brake plates were switched to the correct place (about another hour) and I was good to go-I love my faithful Honda and my devoted parents...although they suggested I find a husband stat so as to relieve themselves of such duties.