I've missed three days of school this week for car troubles. I hate it! I'm not in a position right now to pay a mechanic and I am just not knowledgeable enough to be able to fix it myself. One of Julianne's teachers swung by today to diagnose the problem. He ordered a part and is replacing it tomorrow. I really hope and pray that whatever he does is enough! I can't even start to express my gratitude for this guy for even just looking at it in the first place. I don't want to miss more school. I have practical tests next week on the things that I should have learned this week but missed. I've gotta study my backside off all weekend and hope that reading recipes is enough to be able to make them for a test. I can't buy ingredients to make them at home first. I'm completely broke this weekend!
I'm ditching the car and getting a horse. Or maybe a motorcycle. I'll have to move either way since I have no garage, but it will be worth it! Nothing in my life has ever made me feel more frustrated or more helpless than my cars. Maybe I just don't become this dependent on anything else. I've had some doozies. My first car was a 1980 Honda Accord (that I bought in '89) with a mystery stalling problem. Out of the blue as I was driving the turn signals would come on and stay on (and not blink) and I knew I had to get off of the road. The car would die and there was nothing in the world that you could do to start it again. You just had to wait until it was ready. It might be a couple of hours or a couple of days. After two and a half years and countless repairs--including by mechanics and many male friends and boyfriends of my girlfriends who messed with it--it was fixed for free by a dude whose house I got stuck in front of. Took him five minutes to figure it out. Turns out that the turn signals and the fuel pump were grounded in the same place and they were loose (or something like that). If I'd had a dime for every time a guy told me that the turn signals had nothing to do with anything that would make it stall I would have bought a new Porshe. My next car, a Ford Tempo, would not start if it sat in the sun. It only did this for one summer. It took me a couple of weeks to make the connection with the sun but then I had to be so strategic in choosing a parking spot. Eventually I figured out that I could touch two things under the hood together with something metal and hotwire it. That was always fun! There was one place at work where I knew it would be in the shade when I got off and it was way far from my office. That's where I parked all the time from then on. The problem mysteriously went away and never came back. No men that I knew had a clue why it did this but years after I got rid of the car a gal told me it was a vapor lock. The next car, a Saturn, never gave me a day of trouble and I would kill to have it back! I heard that the brakes went out on the dude who bought it from me just a week or so later. My next, and last, car was an Escort station wagon. I don't remember much trouble from that one until the end. It needed the entire cooling system replaced so I just ditched it. I lost my job before I replaced it and have been driving my mom's extra car (a very sexy '94 Chrysler New Yorker) since then. I'm very grateful to have it to drive but I really look forward to having my own car again! One day I'm going to have a brand-new car and every ounce of wear and tear will be my own!
I'm ditching the car and getting a horse. Or maybe a motorcycle. I'll have to move either way since I have no garage, but it will be worth it! Nothing in my life has ever made me feel more frustrated or more helpless than my cars. Maybe I just don't become this dependent on anything else. I've had some doozies. My first car was a 1980 Honda Accord (that I bought in '89) with a mystery stalling problem. Out of the blue as I was driving the turn signals would come on and stay on (and not blink) and I knew I had to get off of the road. The car would die and there was nothing in the world that you could do to start it again. You just had to wait until it was ready. It might be a couple of hours or a couple of days. After two and a half years and countless repairs--including by mechanics and many male friends and boyfriends of my girlfriends who messed with it--it was fixed for free by a dude whose house I got stuck in front of. Took him five minutes to figure it out. Turns out that the turn signals and the fuel pump were grounded in the same place and they were loose (or something like that). If I'd had a dime for every time a guy told me that the turn signals had nothing to do with anything that would make it stall I would have bought a new Porshe. My next car, a Ford Tempo, would not start if it sat in the sun. It only did this for one summer. It took me a couple of weeks to make the connection with the sun but then I had to be so strategic in choosing a parking spot. Eventually I figured out that I could touch two things under the hood together with something metal and hotwire it. That was always fun! There was one place at work where I knew it would be in the shade when I got off and it was way far from my office. That's where I parked all the time from then on. The problem mysteriously went away and never came back. No men that I knew had a clue why it did this but years after I got rid of the car a gal told me it was a vapor lock. The next car, a Saturn, never gave me a day of trouble and I would kill to have it back! I heard that the brakes went out on the dude who bought it from me just a week or so later. My next, and last, car was an Escort station wagon. I don't remember much trouble from that one until the end. It needed the entire cooling system replaced so I just ditched it. I lost my job before I replaced it and have been driving my mom's extra car (a very sexy '94 Chrysler New Yorker) since then. I'm very grateful to have it to drive but I really look forward to having my own car again! One day I'm going to have a brand-new car and every ounce of wear and tear will be my own!
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