The Loss of a Love

Just yesterday I gave a shout-out to my beloved car, Victor the Volvo. Now, I must say up front that I didn't actually invest any money to get this car, which is one reason why it's so beloved, but it is also just a fantastic car and who doesn't love Volvo's?

Well, today I went in to check on Victor's little oil leak that he's had for a few weeks now. It wasn't good news. Now, I don't know much/anything about cars, but I still heard the diagnosis loud and clear: there is a leak in the motor and it all needs replaced. There were many other parts described and pointed at, but I was 1) already too saddened/shocked about the news of the motor to try to understand and 2) I never know what car people are talking about anyway. They obviously don't know that this is my first car and I sing opera for crying out loud. I think car knowledge is so helpful and beneficial, but really, if I can check my oil and put gas in, I think I'm doing pretty well.

My next question was logical: so what do I do with this oil leak? The response brought great grief and anxiety: sell it now. They spoke of my car as if it was a dirty old rag and didn't even have enough respect to not speak poorly of him while he was nearby. Granted, I've only had this car for seven months, but we've had seven glorious months, with trips to Pennsylvania and Chicago, a dozen or so trips to Upland, and a few thousand trips to the beloved Olive Garden, where Victor often enjoys the "Employee of the Month" spot up front because I was either running late or simply wanted to show him off to everyone who came into the restaurant (tips go down when the customers find out YOU'RE the one driving the '92 Volvo). Goodness, I even have two tickets with this car. When he started going way too fast all on his own, did I just abandon and leave? No, and now when he gives me one sign of trouble, I'm up and gone. It just doesn't seem fair, doesn't seem faithful.

Now, I'm devastated. I probably shouldn't admit this, but while I was telling Joy on the phone, I started to cry a little. They told me I could run it for a while and just keep a carton of oil in my trunk and hope the overly-oiled belt doesn't slip off and cause me even greater grief, but they really think my best bet is to sell it now. They all just kept talking about how Volvo's aren't cheap to fix. I wanted to tell them that love isn't cheap either, but we don't just throw it on the side of the road with cigarette butts and beer cans, do we? It's give and take, ya know? You give the Volvo love and praise and the Volvo takes all your money. Really it's quite simple. I don't think they would have understood. They probably don't know a thing about love either for that matter.

So I think tomorrow sometime my mother and I are going to go around to a few used car dealerships. Sounds trashy, doesn't it? I don't even have the slightest idea of what I'm doing. I guess my goal is to find a car I want and can somehow afford (why did I just make that trip to Colorado and did I really need to get tickets to see Kelly Clarkson in concert?!) and hope they give me some money for my good friend Vic. (Vic is short for Victor the Volvo, lest we get confused with Vicki, my mom. Her nickname is Vickers.) My mom, Vickers, says I probably can't get another Volvo because they're expense and truthfully, they are kinda expensive to fix. I don't even know which cars are good and which aren't. I feel like Neons are girly (even if Blom has one) and Hondas run forever, but who knows if those are even true. If anyone has any advice, I beg of you to help me. I kinda want a jeep, but think that's probably out of the picture too. This is one of the saddest days of my life. Okay, I may be a little bit over-dramatic, but give me a break. It's my first car and now I have to be unfaithful and find another. There will never be another "first car" just like there will never be another "first love." (Really, the parallels between cars and love is remarkable. I might write a book about it.)

Plus, when it comes down to it, this is gonna cost me money, and that really is the sad and upsetting part. Joy, I think we may have to change our honeymoon plans. Why are we going to Mexico anyway? I hear Rockford can be very nice in December.