Skip to main content

TO DRIVE IS TO BE HAPPY

Today I ran across this article from The Huffington Post which helps you figure out whether your car is your soul mate. I didn't even have to think about it because I LOVE my car, so the answer is a definitive yes.

As the nerd that I am, I wondered if I am more in love with my car than most, I really enjoy being in my car (and it's not because  it's clean), sometimes my car is the only place I can cry and the only place I can dance, but maybe everyone does that. So to answer this question more objectively, I went to the Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration and found that I am more in love with my car than the average American. According to DOT's website, I drive about 15600 more miles per year than the average American woman my age and about 12000 more miles than the average American my age...ahhh  that is love.

To be clear, my car has been my house while waiting to be un-booted, it has been my office, my classroom, my supply of electricity when my cell was dying, but most importantly, it gives me time to meditate, it has taken me to places like Savannah, South Dakota, the Badlands, The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island; dancing with Pilobolus, partying with Navy JAG's in Norfolk, artistic Harper's Ferry, The Wooden Nickel -As I think about it, my car is my perfect life companion, it doesn't care what I do, but is always supportive of me as I get it done. True love and happiness indeed.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

INTRODUCTION

How or where do I start? Well, more than a year ago I set up this space with the idea that I would blog my little heart out, but here I am now just barely starting off. You should know that I have no idea what I am doing and that I am finally doing this because, well, I don't know that either. I am a professional in my early 30's living in Central, PA. It is finally dawning on me that the job I am doing now is probably the job I will be doing for the rest of my life...great for "stability", but terrible for having something to look forward to. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, I help people all the time and my co-workers are wonderful, but it's almost like a courtship, I wish my profession would "court me" a little more, that it ought to worry that one day I wouldn't be here anymore and therefore should be nicer and more spontaneous with me. Does that sound odd? Probably, but that is how I feel...maybe it's a professional 7 year itch thing...

WITH APOLOGIES TO MY BODY AND ONWARD WITH GRATITUDE

For the first 40 years of my life I hated you. As a young child I hated that you were neither fast nor strong, as a teenager I blamed you for not having the flexibility that could get me into Julliard, as I lifted weights, I was angry you were not strong enough and as I became a lawyer I hated you for being the kind of body that helped me be a good lawyer.  I didn't just hate you for my reasons; I also brought in people into my life that dumped their own self hate onto you and I agreed with them. You were blamed for their alcoholism, their inability to have an erection, and for holding erections for far too long, for their sex addictions, for their premature ejaculations and for their general unhappiness, what is worse; my hate for you was so strong, I could never fully trust anyone who loved you. But then last year I was in an accident. It would have killed anyone who had a different body than you. The insurance assessor assumed the owner of my car had died and my chiropr...

THOUGHTS ON MOTHERS, FASHION AND BODY IMAGE

It wasn't until I was 13 years old that I learned I was fat. That was the year I moved to the United States and began to have a difficult time finding clothes that fit appropriately. I never really thought about that change until much later when I would look back on childhood photos and was surprised by how well my clothes fit, and how well-dressed I mostly was. As someone who is very fashionably challenged, I was surprised that at some point in time, I knew how to dress well...and I seemed to have lost the skill once I had many clothing options. When did I lose that skill? I began to explore that phenomena and quickly came to an odd realization. In the U.S. I clearly always had more clothing options that I ever did in Venezuela. Ready-made clothes in the U.S. were affordable so everyone could buy them. That was the key, in Venezuela, ready-made clothes were very expensive, so not too many people purchased them. In fact, I don't remember my mom buying anything ready-mad...