So far in the short life of this blog, I have discussed both the recent hail storm of Albuquerque, and my trials and tribulations as a person who has been trying to register Molly the 1998 Malibu in the Great State of New Mexico. (Official motto: What do you mean, you don't have time to come back tomorrow?) As fate would have it, it now seems that these two events are intertwined. Today, Dan took my car to have an appraisal done related to the extent of the hail damage that Molly sustained in the Great Hail Storm of 04. And, the preliminary verdict from the insurance people is that they are going to TOTAL MY CAR. Yes. My car, it seems, is such an incredible piece of crap that it is not worth paying the two grand or whatever it will cost to get a bunch of hail dents taken out of it.
Now I am not going to argue very much about this. My car is a wreck. When Dan and I got married, various groomsmen of ours thoughtfully smeared shoe polish all over it. They smeared about an inch of polish on the gas cap apparently working on the theory that the gas cap should really stand out. The next day, we ran the car through a drive through car wash, and most of the polish came off. But not the polish on the gas cap. It just kind of streaked downward, creating this very classy look, sort of like milk was frothing out of the gas tank. We left the car baking in the Dallas sun for a week while we were in Hawaii, and, as you can imagine, that pretty much means that I now have permanent shoe polish milk on my car. In the year since I have been doing the Commute from Hell, Molly's windshield has sustained more than one crack. OK, the truth is that if my car ever takes a rock in just the right spot, the entire windshield will shatter. This is also a good look. The inside of my car is perpetually stained with coffee and other beverages and littered with every reciept for gas and fast food and groceries that I have accumulated in the last six months or so.
But the crowning achievement, in terms of my car officially crossing the line between "I belong to a sort of cute girl with a professional job" and "I belong to a sloppy girl who probably wears fuzzy house slippers to work" came when the hubcaps started falling off. Once I lost two hubcaps, Dan decided it was time to make a big investment. So he went to Wal-mart and bought a set of hubcaps apparently manufactured by the Tupperware company for a grand total of ten bucks. These fell off within two days. So now my car is a certified ghetto-mobile. And now we're trying to decide if we should just pay the salvage value on Molly and drive this car into the ground or spring for a used car with lower mileage and a better chance of seeing 2006.
I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, has anyone reading this blog ever experienced a situation this grating? I just got this car legally up to speed. I just paid it off this year. I haven't been so good about the cosmetic stuff, but I have changed the oil religously, fixed every major mechanical issue that has arisen, and put a CD player into it last year. And even though I could be in the position to trade up for a much nicer car, I am totally annoyed that I might lose my hoopty car after all this. It just goes to show you. Never give your heart to a car.
« Step back, ladies, he's taken. | Main | Excuse me while I cry. »
Irony
Search
About
This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on October 19, 2004 6:48 PM.
The previous post in this blog was Step back, ladies, he's taken..
The next post in this blog is Excuse me while I cry..
Many more can be found on the main index page or by looking through the archives.
Powered by
Movable Type 3.35
Movable Type 3.35
Comments (3)
Though I haven't really invested much into my car except for repairs, I can definitely sympathize with the travail of being in love with a dying old car. I commute 85 mi each way, so b/n my first and third (wh. is now) year of grad school, my car has gone from 167K to 211K. The antennae was broken and you need a special, expensive custom Honda antennae to replace, so it's hooked up to cheap one which lives in the back seat for minimal radio coverage (Incidently, Bob Edwards and my antennae left about the same time). My car is totally trashed and now has this perpetual mildewey smell since the tropical storm a couple of weeks ago (the seals aren't any good). The air conditioner needs a new compressor. And the hood is unpainted (giving the car a ghetto look), because two years ago, I rearended someone, and in the attempt by my well-meaning husband to tie my hood down, it flew up into the windshield taking the very shape of the windshield. I didn't want to pay for the paint on an already expensive hood. So now I just look...well, I fit in with the whole New Orleans look...our second motto is "Third World and Proud of it". Every day I get the sense of living on borrowed time with dear ol' Chilldy
Posted by Jeannette | October 22, 2004 8:06 AM
Posted on October 22, 2004 08:06
Yes, isn't it silly? I'm totally attached to this thing, and it basically has to be rigged up with duct tape every week in order to continue to function. But it was my first car. Ever. I bought it after college. In it, I moved myself to New Mexico with all my worldly belongings. I drove around in it chasing cops who were chasing drive-by shooters at 11:30 at night so my paper could have the story before deadline. I scraped snow off of it at 5 a.m. the day I drove back to Mississippi to plan my wedding. Dan and I drove it BACK to New Mexico after we got married. It is part of my life and I think I am going to choke up when I leave it in some lot alone. Even though it is a piece of junk. Thanks for sympathizing. :)
By the way, through our semi-connected worlds, I have gathered that your husband works at Desire. (I was an intern there in 2000) How is everyone there? Everytime I get the DSM newsletter, I get this incredible homesick feeling for the third world, dirty, hotter than hell, traffic nightmare, crime-ridden city of New Orleans. It's hard to explain to people, but I really do love New Orleans. And at any given moment, I would gladly lie, steal or kill if it meant I could go visit everyone at Desire and let Chiquita feed me for a few days. Chiquita probably doesn't even remember me anymore, but she will forever be a goddess in my eyes for her food. Are you driving all the way to LSU from New Orleans? Goodness, I bet you were upset when Bob Edwards left. I only have a 50 mile commute, but I was still pretty ticked about that. Hope the car holds up.
Posted by Haley | October 22, 2004 9:53 AM
Posted on October 22, 2004 09:53
Let's play: How many degrees of separation between Haley and jeannette? Yep. My husband teaches high school English at DSA. Incidentally, he was the first teacher they hired a couple of years ago. We both did (at least parts--the "educational"/evening parts with Mo) the internship the summer he was hired to get a sense for what it was all about. Very interesting. Chris loves it there! We could stay here forever--despite the potholes.
I cried when Bob Edwards went off the air. It's just not the same anymore.
Posted by Jeannette | October 24, 2004 10:05 PM
Posted on October 24, 2004 22:05