Jesus Wants Me For a Skinny Girl

MILO, The Final Chapter

It’s back on the bike for this broad! Saddle up!

May 6th email to insurer:

Subject: Please Cancel My Auto Policy

Hi, it’s Christie. I spoke with Valerie, who asked me to record what happened to my car.

On April 29th, it started acting sluggish on the freeway. I took it to my mechanic to learn that it’s burning oil. They put in 3 quarts and it was fine for a week. It started getting sluggish again May 5th, so a neighbor sent me to AutoZone for a diagnostic. He would look at it in the morning, today. Last night my friend followed me, just in case, and thank goodness! The undercarriage began to glow bright orange, and when I got to a convenience store (VERY CONVENIENT) we learned that it was actually in flames under the hood! We put out the fire and left it overnight.

Who does that happen to?!!! I’m glad I’m not dead, hell of an adventure. I really do have the best stories.

Today, I sold it. Done.

Happy Travels!

Tear-a-Part Auto Recycling
652 S Redwood Rd.
Salt Lake City, UT 84104

***

So the most exciting thing is that I listened to my angels, period. My gut kept telling me to ask my friend for help. She just moved in, barely breathing again with her feet on the ground, bless her. She’s a harried, hurried, newly-single, stressed-out, maxed-out mother of a lively 2-year-old boy.

I kept pushing it down. “I can’t bother her. I’ll be fine.” The neighbor guy reassured me Milo would be fine to get to AutoZone and back. I was nervous. He offered to come with me, but I don’t want to be alone in the car with an albeit helpful, kindly man I don’t know well. “Oh, I can’t bother her. He’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

They were screaming at me! *gut gut gut, pow pow pow* Listen!

My friend hates the “pop-in.” She’s reeling from a rancorous divorce, still in the process of wrapping her brain around such a jolting, scary new reality. She’s rattled. It was very hard for me to ask her to load her son into the car past 9 o’clock! My angels insisted, and somehow gave me the courage. They put my guilt away: It would be okay.

It was. She was happy to help.

I’m so glad my old, old friend is my new, new neighbor! MIRACLES!

These are my posts yesterday and today on ye ol’ Facebook, where I live my life:

5.5.13 “don’t ever dismiss your intuition. that siren in your belly is telling you the truth. listen, and you’re in for a thrilling adventure with a safe, happy conclusion. (sigh!) ignore, and you’ll figure it out eventually… the hard way. thankful for blessings tonight!!! thank you, [tagged friend], for sharing a miracle with me. WOW!”

5.6.13 “quick update: car burst into flames on the freeway last night. sold it for scrap. full refund on newly-paid 6-month insurance premium, so… there’s that, haha! just enjoying the comedy and the carma of it all. i’m tellin’ ya, don’t ignore intuition! thank god i asked my neighbor to help me. thank god she’s one of my oldest friends in salt lake. i wouldn’t have bothered her otherwise. what if i hadn’t asked her to follow me, “just in case”? thanks again, [tagged friend]! holy crap!!!”

***

They weren’t red-flagging the guy – though of course it’s good policy never to ride with someone you don’t know well. They were red-flagging the experience… yet to come.

And then… (!!!) Next, I remembered teasing my car earlier in the day. I even rough-drafted a blog about it that I was going to finish when this most recent issue was resolved. I could never have imagined this outcome!

I’ll post that now, as is, so it appears in order of date of composition: YESTERDAY! BEFORE BEFORE BEFORE!

You knew. Just chill out and take our word for it. We got you. You can feel us us. We are your angels. We are The Auto Club [named in 1993 when I “met” them on a road trip in my first car, The Perky Teal]. We are Source, Universe, God, Whomever, Creator, Heavenly Father, Mother God. We are your ancestors, your family to come. You hear us. It’s real. Relax.

OK!

(thank you thank you thank you!!!)
(i can hardly catch my breath! thank you!)

Right now I feel like my angels are saying, Hello, Dear One. Good job listening.

“Thanks! I feel really good about that.”

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… uh… Ahem…

So Milo… About that… It was… *cough*sputter*… uh, “B” for Battery (also Baffoon).

“I paid 65 bucks for a tow? … For a battery?!”

“Yep.”

You might think I’m less angry with Phil less because I’m off the hook and my little Milo is not a lemon. (Rather, his owner is.) But Phil cost me a tow. For a battery! 🙂

B is for Beautiful, Be-hittin’-the-road-this-summer, Beat-that, Bwahahahahahahaha!

Thanks, Big-O!

If Only Bird Shit Were My Only Problem

Leaving for work this morning… Milo won’t start.

I HAVE HAD IT!

It’s official, he’s a lemon. I’ve spent over a thousand dollars in less than 3 weeks! This time, it’s “E” for Electrical (and Expensive), because he wouldn’t auto-lock either (and I just replaced the starter).

I feel like crying. I’ve been without a car for 6 years. I could have saved the multiple thousands of dollars I’ve poured into the purchase and maintenance of this ugly piece of scrap metal and gone to freaking Europe already!

It has been awfully convenient. I’ve been eating healthier because I can make more frequent trips to Whole Foods, which isn’t close. Being lazy, I didn’t always want to bike over.

I took one trip to Idaho to see my grandma, but overall I have to admit… NOT WORTH IT. I could just take the shuttle up north like I have for the last six years, and… what? Go to Europe already!

I’m bitter.

Phil is such a jerk. He helped me pick out the car. And he’s a mechanic! In fact, the car shopping experience was the beginning of the end for us, because he was just such a jerk! He was completely irritated, put-out, and rude. If you don’t want to help, don’t say you will and then act like a victim! He wouldn’t render even the slightest opinion.

“What do you think about this one, honey?”

“I don’t know. It’s your car.”

“Right. I know nothing about cars. I was hoping your expertise could wisely direct me? Whadya think?”

“I don’t know what you want. I can’t make the decision for you.”

“You do know what I want. This price range, 4 doors, something you might trust. Would you get this for yourself? For your mom? That’s what I want.”

“I don’t know! It’s your car!”

Our first fight ensued. The second came a couple weeks later. He’s so wrapped up in himself it doesn’t occur to him to see another’s needs. When I communicated those needs, he simply did not care.

So we broke up. That’s cool. It happens. Today, I asked for his help. I figure it’s been long enough. He’s moved on. I’ll offer to pay him, and get a little savings. (He lost his job while we were dating and the grapevine let me know he’s still not working.) I texted a humorous plea, “… Sincerely, Old Christie 🙂 ” (His new gal is a Christie/y)

Nothing.

OK, that’s fine. (Immature and petty, but fine. And stupid! You need the money, you baby!) I texted again. “If not, no biggie, but please let me know so I can arrange a tow, etc. Thanks much, hope you’re well. Cheers, C”

Nothing.

Just a jerk. I don’t understand people who can’t be civil when a relationship ends. So we weren’t a forever match. So what? I’m always glad for a connection, even a fleeting one. “We really liked each other once. That rocks!” I don’t get stupid people.

(Like anyone, I have exes I hate. Like the grifter. Of course, I’m the idiot who loaned him two-thousand dollars. The serial cheater. Of course, I’m the idiot who took back time and again. The CREEP who didn’t tell me for 8 months that he doesn’t want kids, when I told him on date 3!)

So I have a stupid car I officially regret. In fact… I hate him. Yes, I said it. I hate you, MILO MILO MILO! Pththth!

Misadventures in Milo

I bought a new used car on October 30th. He has a sticker that reads “MILO MILO MILO,” and so earned his name and gender. We broke down today. Sixty-five bucks to tow to Big-O, dreaded diagnostic tomorrow. Come on, Milo! Come in under $300. You can do it!

happier times

happier times


(Feb. 1) It’s the starter. It was considerate to go out after I had run all my errands. Obedient, too. $250 and tax. Cheeky, though. With tow, that’s just over $300.

Good Milo. And let’s be honest. He’s not the first to act up. The first thing I did after bringing him home was remove the driver’s side mirror with the pole to my parking canopy.