Ode to My Car

I didn't get my license until I was 22 years old. It was actually 2 days after my 22nd birthday.

I didn't get my license for the simple fact of: I didn't need to. I always was able to work out a ride to work/places I wanted to go. Giving friends gas money was still considerably cheaper than what I'd have to pay to put gas in my own car, or for the maintenance on a car.

But I got sort of a swanky job at 22. I was working in an office for an engineering company and had the opportunity for lots of overtime. I needed a car.

So I took my driver's license test (twice) and passed. And for the next 8 months or so, bombed around in my family's 1987 Chevy Nova. Or, as I so sweetly dubbed her, The Nasty Nova. She lives up to the name, and is still running. No shit.

Well, after months of driving around a rusted car that couldn't go above 55 in her best day, I decided to get my own car. To get a car payment and all the hassle involved.

I went to a Buy-Here Pay-Here that I knew would approve my credit. First I got into a Ford Escort, which I promptly exited. The next car in the line was a 2001 Dodge Neon SE. I knew the instant I sat in it. It was mine.

I bought my first car March 7, 2008. I named her Baby Audrey.

Now, the first few months with Baby Audrey were rough. She didn't like to start all the time. I'd have to hang out in parking lots with my hood up waiting for her to cool down before I could start her and head off on my merry way. Obnoxious. I hated my car. I would tell everyone who listened (including the dealer) that if I won the lottery, I would pay the car off and go after it with a sledgehammer.

But eventually the starter was replaced, after some minor tweaking (brakes, coolant jug, etc.) she ran fine. And has continued to run fine.

Before Baby Audrey I had never driven farther than 2 hours from home. I had never been on the highway.

I drove my little Neon from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to Polk County, Florida. Together we maneuvered heavy construction, snowy roads, mountains, asshole drivers, and my cranky back seat driver, my Grandmother. 5 days. 1600 miles. Me and my car. (And Grandma and my mom). We made it.

My car is fantastic. Everything I've asked her to do. The day I got to live my dream of seeing New Found Glory live, she got me there. For my first outing on I-4 by myself. And didn't decide to pop a power steering belt until I was 5 minutes from home.

The initial rules in my car are as follows: Take your Trash. If you put a cigarette burn in the upholstery, you lose your eyebrows.

Now the Trash rule has been slack here and there. There was a time when my backseat was so full of soda cans I could only have two passengers go with me to lunch at work, because there wasn't a fourth seat open. Being in Florida, I was unable to keep this up. And have kept my car considerably clean.

My car is my best friend.

February 4th, 2011 I paid my car off. I out-right own my car. The first thing in my life of importance that I own. And I worked my ass off for 32 months making payments and babying that car. I never missed a single payment, not even by one fucking day. And, as I am required to point out, I was unemployed for six months. I never missed one payment.

Since last May or so, I have been trying to find a new car. My credit is not great, so it's taken a while. Its a continuing battle. Most times I accept the resounding No's and figure my car will last me until someone finally says yes.

When I bought my car, she was rocking 125,000 miles. As of this evening she's at 174,400 and some. I didn't put the initial "Holy Shit that's a lot of miles" on my car. But I've put a substantial amount on my car in the last three years.

There have been a lot of really great moments in my car. Sing alongs, road trips, kisses, naps, memories.

I recently made a new cd to listen to in my car, and it features The Beach Boys "God Only Knows". And thinking about my car and listening, I got a little teary-eyed.

If I had never bought Baby Audrey, my life could be a completely different story. I may not have ever moved to Florida, because I wouldn't have had a dependable car to get me there. I may not have ever gone to the memorable shows I've been to. Memories could be completely erased without the appearance of Baby Audrey.

God only knows what I'd be without her.

Technically, my neon is not my first car. The Nasty Nova came first. But Baby Audrey was my first car that I paid for myself. That I not only paid 9 grand for, but I put close to 3 grand in repairs into. Baby Audrey is mine. That car has my blood, sweat and tears. I am thankful every day that I walked into a shitty Buy Here Pay Here that used improper punctuation in their business name and said "Hey, what about that blue Neon? Can I take that for a drive?"

And as if loving the Neon with my whole heart wasn't enough. Owning my Neon has turned me into a 100%, full-fledged Dodge girl.

God Bless My Car.

A Single Gal's Valentine's Post

Last post I promised ya'll two worthwhile posts. I've been a slacker-mc-slackerston. I'm sorry for that.

I will update you guys on my latest on-goings in another post. But for now, I wanted to post about Love. And Valentine's Day. And being Single.

This past year was a tricky one for me. I gave up on love. I thought I had known my whole life who I was going to end up being married to, raising my kids with, and having matching rocking chairs with in our "Twilight Years". And when you put your eggs in all one basket, and that basket turns out to belong to someone else... well. It's rough.

But as mentioned in a previous post, I had a first kiss that made all of that fade away and I was able to start over again. Not saying that Mr. Basket's marriage to someone else doesn't continue to feel like a stabbing in my ribs (because it does. Every day.) However when I wake up in the morning, that's not the first thing on my mind. There's usually a day or two in a week where I don't think of him now.

I digress.

I have had one Valentine in my dating career. It was when I was in high school, at the rockin' age of 16. So, as an adult I'm pretty much used to watching the people around me get flowers delivered for Valentine's Day, and flaunting their goodies from their beloved.

I'm sure you presume as a chronically single person that I hate Valentine's Day. I assure you I do not. I love seeing the stuff people get. I love smelling flowers, and getting to see someone's face when the receptionist walks up with a big ridiculous bouquet. Love it.

At work last night I was sitting with two guys, and I was asking them what they were doing for their girlfriends for Valentine's. They were both very thoughtful in their gifts, and you can tell they love their girlfriends. It's sweet to see.

Once they finished telling me what they were doing for the big day, they asked what I had planned for Valentine's Day.

As someone who is perpetually single, it always gets a little awkward having the "Why I'm Single" conversation. Honestly, there are a million different answers I could give.

Here's The Truth:

I have been in love with someone since I was 9 years old. And even though he's married to someone else, I know at the end of the day, he is still my person. The person I was made and designed for. I know this.

Knowing there is another person out in the world, that is your other half, how can you settle for someone else? How can you go through the motions with someone who won't measure up to the person you know is out there? It doesn't seem very fair to the other person.

I know there is a chance that Mr. Basket is not my person at all. That he's part of my path to the right person. I know this chance exists. One day I'll walk into some coffee shop, or record store, or walk into someone on the street because I'm walking and texting, and BAM! There he'll be. And that will be the end of it. I'll forget about the boys along the way that broke my heart or made me forget my broken hearts.

So until that happens, I'm waiting. I am well known for my ridiculous timing. I meet guys that I hit it off with instantly, but I meet them right after they've moved in with their girlfriend. I could've had a chance to meet them a year before but I passed because I was being a baby, then when I finally meet them they're with someone else. Or a guy I've liked forever that's always had a girlfriend becomes single after forever, I've moved away a month prior. I am flawlessly flawed in my timing when it comes to relationships.

I don't want to risk meeting the right person while I'm dating someone I'm only "Meh" about. I can't see hurting someone else because NOW I've met the right person. I try to avoid breaking hearts and having my heart broken.

The last time I had a boyfriend I was 19 years old. The last time I was seriously dating someone (the step before exclusivity) I was 22 years old. I'm pushing 26, ya'll. I fully agree with all sentiments of "Girlfriend, it's time to be a girlfriend". But I'm okay with waiting. I'm good at patience.

Being single so long, I'm set in my own ways. I like putting on my own concerts in my car, knowing there is a very good chance people in traffic can hear my off-tune renditions of Nora Jones songs. My days off are spent in bed catching up on my DVR. After being single so long, I have no idea how to be someone's girlfriend. So I'm afraid I'll meet someone I really like that wants to date me, and I'll just screw it up because I'm perpetually single.

So until that BAM! moment happens, I'm happy being happy for the people around me. I love seeing people in love.

And I know my time will come. After all, after 2 hours of bad timing, just barely missing each other, Jake Ryan found Sam Baker and was waiting to wisk her away for a perfect first kiss.

Happy Valentine's Day. ♥