My Fiona...

Today, since the craziness involving my own, I took Casper’s car to work. I like her car, but I feel so small. I feel out of control of it and I feel like it owns someone else. I miss my Fiona. Your car kind of…defines you, if you will. Mine is aged. It isn’t aged so much in the way that it looks outside, but pieces on the inside tend to fall off abruptly (Like the time when J was driving and the visor fell off and hit him in the face) and sometimes she has bad days (like the time she barely made it into the work parking lot and had to get some very expensive new innards). She has character though. There are rips in the leather in the seats in the back that show that people have had fun with her. She has carried many people over the years. The trunk is harder to lock than it used to be because of the time that Matt crawled in to be funny and I closed it and drove away with him inside and he somehow figured it out and jumped out at a stop sign. Little pieces of history are strewn about inside her (like the tiny fake rose that Alex and I bought for Brandy and gave it to her in the Walgreen’s parking lot) and even though people don’t understand our love, it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. She was my first and only car. And she is lovely and has shown me many places and when I don’t have her, I feel…like someone else.

Plus, I can’t smoke in Casper’s car. Fiona doesn’t mind if I smoke, but I tend to get upset if she does.