me, my car, and our well being

A few weeks back; En route from point B to point C for the day's schedule. My car started acting up. Not running so smoothly. I don't blame it. I've down right neglected my poor car in every which way.

The Oil. Oh! The oil.

How do I even check it? fill it? fix it?

I run in and ask the gas station attendant to help me. I purchase a jug of oil.

Senor gas man pours it in. Dips in the dipstick. The oil still doesn't even show on the damn dipstick. ( I'm going to write dipstick as many times as I can, because really?- how often can you actually use the word dipstick in its appropriate manor?)

I buy another jug.

finally it starts to show on the dipstick. But not enough.

ALMOST THREE JUGS OF OIL later, my oil is up to Parr (on the dipstick).
Can you imagine how my poor car was feeling?

I thought it was all fixed up.

then..

Roughly, a week later, I was driving home from a Fashion show, gnarly makeup, hair slicked back. Lookin' like I'd been hookin'. Not a look I want to be seen in off of the runway ( I mean, can I say- not even on the runway.) So I'm trying to just get home and take a shower, so I dont look like an effing dipstick!

But of course, my car starts flipping out.

Lights flashing, beeps beeping, smoke smokin'. The whole nine yards.

The Water. Oh! The water.

[I get out in my spooky hair and makeup, a sight for all to see.]
hot damn, it smells like a bomb went off under my hood.

....Same song. second verse....

Gas attendant. Emptier than empty water pump-thing. searching for something to fill it up.

Gallllllons upon Gallllons later, my car is in O.K. shape to drive.
I take it home, and upon my arrival, it starts smoking again.

Whats funny. Is- I secretly think that my car and I have a secret connection.

While My "oil" and "water" don't have flashing lights or beeping signals; I've got pimples Galore, and flu like symptoms that have been lingering around for almost 3 weeks. Anxiety, sleepless nights. Pretty much my body's way to signal the red flags, that my engine, is burnt out. I am about done for.

I call my dad, in regards to both myself and my car.

I've had it!


He calls his people, and tells me that someone is coming to pick up my car and tow it all the way up I-5 and he will make sure it gets all fixed up to tip top shape. And supposedly it can be done all in all for a hell of a lot less money in Portland- having his "peeps" work on it as opposed to me going to some schmuck in LA, who would ring up a total of a minimum of $2,500.

OK, great. So my car - on its way to health and happiness as it sails away up Interstate 5.

But what about me.

Now, along with all of my red flags and flashing lights my immune system and mental well being has been sending out, I am without a car. FANTASTIC.

Humbled, as I succumb to being "that friend". The one that needs a ride here, a lift there, and "I'll buy you lunch if you take me there". I survive my loathing in Los Angeles for about a week and a half, vehicle-less.

Juggling between when would be a good time to come home for work purposes, and financial purposes, I teeter back and forth about when I will book my one- way ticket to Portland.

FINALLY.

A few days into November, which had already been a handful of days later than I'd hoped to be making it up north, I made it.

I must tell you.
My car is a New Man.
And I am a new Woman.
( I never established that my car was a dude, but here we are. huh.)

Everything that was wrong with my car is fixed. New everything. Even the VW emblem on the front that was stolen, is now replaced.

As far as myself. I've only been here four days. But I'm lighter on my feet. My sickness is slightly better, my pimples... on their way out the door, my sleepless night have been replaced with ample nights of slumber on my nephew's "Lightning McQueen bed. And really, It's not every night you get to sleep in a race car, with a LIFE SIZE Kung-Fu Panda spooning you.



I feel better.
Much much better.
Like all of those sappy suckers say; Home is where the heart is, and It had been six damn months since I'd seen my family. I was in dire need of a reunion with all of my favorite folks in this world.

Tomorrow I will embark on a journey back south on I-5.
Just Me, My Jetta and a stellar soundtrack to come.

But most importantly, I'd like to take a minute mention my "Best Friend Bonanza", which I have just coined as the title of this trip.

Tomorrow morning, I will wake up and indulge in a savory ( both in taste and gossip) breakfast with my best friend Lyndsay.
Following that, approximately 2 hours south; I will stop in Eugene, get coffee, and catch up with my best friend Mallory, and brush up on everything from her new apartment to her love life and neverending school career (sorry mal, but it's like your 6th year ;) ).

Just about eight hours south of that, I will approach Saturday's destination and conclude my evening with my best friend Jenn. I am soo excited I might piss my pants.

Now come on, if that's not chicken soup for the soul, then what is?!

What only will make matters even better, is once I get into LA seeing my best friend Shaleah.

Then I finally will be able to rest my head in my brick- exposed, clothes infested studio apartment in Hollywood.

Can I get a "Hell Yes!" ?!?




Family and friends are the true cure- all to anything and everything.

Oh, and pets... my obese dogs still kiss me and stick their bums in my face when they need a good scratching. It's all out love. They take their time out of their busy schedule of sleeping, eating, and producing flatulents, to spend some Q.T. with little ol' me. And I'll never forget that.