Thursday, July 28, 2011

Have you driven a Ford lately? I have.

Funny thing:  I'm somewhat afraid of ANY abnormality having to do with our car and driving.  One of the very first days I started my new job with my new car commute, (literally, like day 2 or 3) I had to drive down San Jose for a meeting. It was a stormy morning, I said goodbye and good luck to my dashing husband, walked up the street and found the car with a flat tire. Umbrella in one hand and coffee in the other, I ran back to our apartment, hoping Andy hadn't left yet, and could help me change the tire in the windy, rainy, messy, morning, and not ruin my tights or dress by kneeling in the muddy street.  Turns out, I had driven over a screw, which was slowly leaking all the air out of the tire. I think that day shattered all my confidence.
Since then, I find myself checking before I get into the car for flat tires and the like, and realized last night after dropping Andy at the airport, that I was nervous something might happen with the car while he was away.  Perhaps it's because I didn't buy it, perhaps it's because I spent four blissful years not driving, perhaps it's that marriage has made me seemingly less independant (before, had I a flat tire on my own car, I would have just changed it myself, and did a number of times). It's true that I know next to nothing about our car. It's a Ford; I've never owned an American car. I know that the gas tank is on the wrong side, the gear-shifter works differently, the windsheild wiper controll is goofy, and the headlights turn on with a dial on the left dash.  I just assume that under the hood is equally backwards, and live in constant fear that I will be stranded, late, scared, and in danger somewhere, sometime.
I much prefer to be a passenger.

Ahh the hatchback, her most redeeming quality.  We moved our SOFA in it.

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