PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

better days

Saturday, Jul. 16, 2005
Iím not a good driver, but Iím not a horrible driver. Iím a nervous I donít want to get lost kind of driver. It took me an entire afternoon to learn how to drive a stick shift and if truth be known (and according to the 2 sticks I destroyed) I still donít know how. But I prefer to drive a stick and I love the control and the feeling of power. Even if Iím not a pro.

My first boyfriend ever tried to teach me how to drive a stick shift with his brand new sports car. It was a 1990 Chevy Beretta GPU. (in late 1989) Black and expensive and so very damn cool at the time that I was a nervous wreck. I ground the gears once and he immediately kicked me out of the driverís seat. Two years later my ex and I went to buy a new car and because of his crap credit and my non-existent credit they talked us into buying a new Volkswagon Fox. I never liked that car, but it was a stick and he taught me in one afternoon in one sloping parking lot. I finally knew how to drive a stick. 2 days after owning the car I drove it into a pole directly in front of our front door. He walked out and looked at the crunched up turn signal light and stated, ďat least you didnít kill a dog.Ē And he went back into the house unphased. I breathed a sigh of relief and never again after that gave much credence or importance to dents, dings, etc.

Iíve fortunately never been in a car accident and count myself very lucky. Iíve backed up into a garbage truck in a tightly configured parking lot. A ding to the Prelude. But that was due to my current anger levels at my then cheating ex or so I blamed. I rear ended a van one time on Bryan Dairy Road, but the lady didnít speak English and didnít want to call the police. So again slight ding to the Prelude.

I dinged my truck in the front end sliding in the rain. I was hit in the rear end by a driver who did not stop at a stop sign entering the highway on ramp.

Cars are pieces of equipment in my mind. They get us from Point A to Point B. I can admire nice pieces of equipment (*grin*) like anyone else. But I do not see the same value in things like cars that otherís see. Iím always grateful to have a safe well running vehicle because Iíve not always had that. But I donít think having an expensive vehicle calls for immediate happiness in anyoneís life.

One time I wrecked a crappy old Mustang that I bought with my first paycheck from going back to work after my son was born and was then 3 years old. I wrecked that car that winter when I slid on a hillside curve leaving work and the car flew down the side of that hill and landed in a ditch. I was rattled of course and knew I had to call my ex and have him dress our toddler son and come help. My bosses stayed with me waiting for help to arrive. When he showed up in an even crappier 1979 Ford Maverick my boss looked at me and said, ďoh shit youíre in trouble now you wrecked the ďgoodĒ carĒ I laughed and told him, ďwe donít own a good car.Ē And we didnít.

I can easily recall all of the times I called my ex to come jumpstart vehicles. As recent as just a few years ago I always had a piece of shit vehicle. He could not ever manage to keep the bills paid. I swear he was snorting cash up his nose or something. There has to be an explanation for it. I have never understood what was going on.
I just know that my life has improved. I no longer wonder about what is or isnít going on. I no longer have the same stresses as I once did.

Something I read today just reminded me quickly of all the troubles I used to endure and I realized, ďWow that feels so long agoÖĒ

This entry probably doesnít make much sense to anyone elseÖ.but for me itís gold.

Every month when I write out the check for my car payment and realize itís higher than the first few apartments that my ex, my child and myself lived in I grin inside. I donít value money and I donít idolize my vehicle by any means. Itís no big deal. But times have changed. They have improved and that fact makes me happy inside somewhere where I used to be stressed and worried constantly.


1:33 p.m. ::
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