An extra hour every evening of daylight devoted not to sitting at a desk but to moving in the sunshine is all the excuse I needed to see my life differently. Dan and I took a walk last night AFTER dinner, which is a glorious gift from nature. I'm eagerly awaiting the day I can get my coaster bike tuned up and take an evening ride in the rising temperatures, and just knowing that's an impending reality makes me a happier bear.
Because Dan's car didn't pass inspection, we had to get a new car- Dan gets my darling red Elantra, and I get a white Hyundai Accent. None of that is remotely interesting to you, so sorry for making you read that. But it's the foreshadowing of what I will now grace you with, an ode to my YSAA: Young Single Adult Automobile.
Dearest YSAA:
I ran you into a telephone pole on my birthday in a snowstorm a week after I got you. You sought revenge by setting off the car alarm for no reason every night at 3am for about a week. It was then I knew we'd be fast friends. I like a car with some sass.
That wasn't even the worst of our thrills and spills. You got rear ended by a drunk driver while you were street parked, and then I took care of your other end when I rear ended a van carrying a fully costumed Mariachi Band. I still see that van around the valley once in awhile, and it always makes me think of you. And what an idiot I am.
I have fallen in love twice while staring across your roomy consol, talking long into the days and nights. Beautifully, splendidly, perfectly, you only had to see my heart get broken once, since I married the other guy. And you were witness to all of it. With you go some of my fondest and also some of my lamest moments.
You have heard me sing to every song on my iPod, for which I can't apologize enough. You have heard me rant at NPR during the GOP debates, to which I say, you are welcome, World's Most Properly Educated Car.
But really, dear YSAA, I think we were at our best in Virginia. We drove and sang our way up and down the mid-atlantic, explored battlefields, small towns, barns, beaches, and forests. My life in DC was infinitely better after you arrived, and driving from coast to coast with you when it was all over was easily one of the greatest adventures and spiritual journeys of my life.
Also, you owe me $141 for the speeding ticket to Ocean City. TOTALLY YOUR FAULT.
Your first owner, who loves and adores you like a personified human being, or at the very least a naughty but charming pet,
Lorraine
Because Dan's car didn't pass inspection, we had to get a new car- Dan gets my darling red Elantra, and I get a white Hyundai Accent. None of that is remotely interesting to you, so sorry for making you read that. But it's the foreshadowing of what I will now grace you with, an ode to my YSAA: Young Single Adult Automobile.
Dearest YSAA:
I ran you into a telephone pole on my birthday in a snowstorm a week after I got you. You sought revenge by setting off the car alarm for no reason every night at 3am for about a week. It was then I knew we'd be fast friends. I like a car with some sass.
 |
| Brand Spanking New, Winter 2006 |
I have fallen in love twice while staring across your roomy consol, talking long into the days and nights. Beautifully, splendidly, perfectly, you only had to see my heart get broken once, since I married the other guy. And you were witness to all of it. With you go some of my fondest and also some of my lamest moments.
 |
| Actually, this was a fond moment, even though we are lame in it. |
You have heard me sing to every song on my iPod, for which I can't apologize enough. You have heard me rant at NPR during the GOP debates, to which I say, you are welcome, World's Most Properly Educated Car.
But really, dear YSAA, I think we were at our best in Virginia. We drove and sang our way up and down the mid-atlantic, explored battlefields, small towns, barns, beaches, and forests. My life in DC was infinitely better after you arrived, and driving from coast to coast with you when it was all over was easily one of the greatest adventures and spiritual journeys of my life.
 |
| Crossing America, life in tow. |
 |
| Feeling Gleeish at a Virginia horse event. YIKES. |
Also, you owe me $141 for the speeding ticket to Ocean City. TOTALLY YOUR FAULT.
Your first owner, who loves and adores you like a personified human being, or at the very least a naughty but charming pet,
Lorraine
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