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2005-09-10 @ 1:20 a.m.
when the ignition goes click

I was just thinking about my time with "C' yesterday when we went to lunch. I dug through my purse to get out pictures of Guardcat to show her. And now I'm thinking what a stereotype I am. A forty-something woman with pictures of her cat in her purse. How sad is that? It's like stereotype #27 in the screenwriter's book of movie characters. Single, white woman....mid-forties....lives with her cat. Argghhhhh! If they made a movie, suffice to say, I definitely wouldn't be the star of it. I'd be like the star's wacky best friend who she goes to for advice even though I live a lonely, solitary life showing people pictures of my cat in grocery stores.

And I'd probably be played by Carrie Fisher. Definitely. And she probably wouldn't have to go on a diet before filming. Because I think we're probably about the same weight. Me and Princess Leia -- the Menopausal Years.

And if my life were a movie, I would definitely make sure it was set in NYC, since then I could just take a subway along with Kevin Bacon, Bernadette Peters and Joe the Heroin Addict down to Broadway. But unfortunately this isn't a movie. This is real life, and I have to face the fact that my car died today. I went out at 10:30 to go to a meeting at work and when I attempted to start it, it just went ", click, (cough) click..." and didn't start. I pretty much knew this day was coming. I've been throwing money at that car for about 6 months. I've probably spent about $350, which isn't much for folks working full time but for someone on disability working p/t, its a king's ransom. And considering I only bought the car for $500 and have probably spent almost a $1000 in repairs since I've had it, I guess we're going to have to file this under the Piece of Crap category. And that's not even counting all the stress that car has caused me. Smoking engines, leaking oil, broken brake lines, the fact that it would just randomly die when I was driving at high speeds. So I really think God or Allah or the good car fairy has been watching out for me, since its a freakin' miracle I haven't been killed in that car yet. And that's not even considering all the chest pains its caused.

So I really don't know what to do. I don't have any credit because of a bankruptcy. I definitely don't have the ability to save enough money to buy a car. I don't have any outrageously rich relatives to borrow money from. The filipino mail order whore took care of my inheritance. I've yet to see any thousand dollar bills lying around on the ground. Rich guys like YOUNGER women. It hasn't rained gold bullion since 1997. I'm too honest to do anything dishonest. I can't even get a flipping rent deposit back intact. I get frustrated.

I did talk to my case mgr. today. She thought I might be able to get a car loan, but she said the interest for someone with bad credit is higher. And also the car insurance is higher. Right now I have the bare minimum car insurance. I mean, it's over if I hit a grain of sand wrong or blow a tire. And just the thought of going to a car dealership is terrifying for me.

First of all, I have the anxiety thing going, because I feel that car dealers take advantage of women coming in. And to be honest I really don't give a damn what kind of car I have. Its not like I have wet dreams about tooling around in a sky blue Passat with an 124 disc CD Player that gives you your horoscope when you put the key in the ignition. I just want a car that 1) Drives forward 2) Goes in reverse 3) Is automatic 4) Has power brakes 5) Maybe have air conditioning. And a car stereo would be nice too. Since I sing so stunningly in my car. I'm actually surprised I haven't been discovered at a stop light singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" along with Bonnie Tyler yet. But maybe soon.

I'd really like to go look at cars with a guy. I would feel so much more secure doing that. I'd actually like to take "A" with me. Does that sound weird? Taking my shrink with me to look at cars? It really has nothing to do with his shrinkosity. It has to do with his vast knowledge of cars. He's a car junkie. I've actually lost track of how many cars he's had since I've known him. Maybe 10-12. I've had 2, maybe 3. He's the type of guy who goes to car shows when they come to town. He's even bought a sports car ONLINE.

One other time when I was looking for a car, he suggested the internet and found me a car down in Pennsylvania. The only thing was, I would be buying it sight unseen. He seemed to think this method was trustworthy, but I was too freaked out to do that. Instead I bought my last car from somebody we knew, and it oozed about 5 tankers full of oil while I had it. No matter what I did in repairs, I just could never fix that damn oil leak. And then when I finally got rear-ended and the gas tank got punctured, I just sold the damn thing to some teenager. And yes, I did tell him about the problems.

I just don't seem to have much luck with cars. Or maybe its because I buy OLD cars with lemon written across it. Today when my case mgr. was telling me I should just bite the bullet and buy a new car with a warranty, I got all light headed and dizzy. I can't even fathom owning a new car. Its the whole "I'm not worthy" thing. If I ever won the lottery, I'd probably keel over and die of a heart attack and not even be able to enjoy the spoils of wealth.

But I'd really like to be able to have "A" with me, so that he could deal with the slick sales guys and do all the negotiating. My case mgr. said that sales guys don't like when you come in and say "I can only afford $150/mo. car payments." It really puts their nose out of joint. And I don't even know if that is possible.

Unfortunately, I really need my car. I travel in my job. I also now live further from work. How can I do my job without a car? I can't make my clients take a bus to come see me. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of my job, which is for me to take them out of their dark, depressed lives. God, this just totally blows. Although I know if I go down right now at 1 a.m. and kick my car a few dozen times, I'll probably break my foot, so I guess I will refrain from that least for now.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty