Monday, August 5, 2002

much ado about cars

Isn't is amazing how much we rely on our cars? I mean, we grow so attached to them that they almost seem to be a part of the family. We name them (this is Alice, by the way.) We clean them more than we clean the house or wash the dog. We get mad when someone else makes a mess in it. We are afraid to let anyone else drive it, for fear they might not handle it correctly. A car is like our safe haven. We can sing at the top of our lungs without anyone hearing. We can drive anywhere, just to be alone. We can get out of town, or have a night out on the town. We have our settings EXACTLY how WE like them. And because of this, we have a codependence with our vehicles.

It would be so nice to live in a big enough city that has reliable (and quick) public transportation. I mean, it's great to have your car, but what happens when it breaks down? You shell out 40 bucks (or more) a day to rent a car, or you just don't go to work, which loses you even more money. This doesn't even count the aggravation of having to call in or ask someone to PLEASE take you to the rental place so you can pick up your car. (And the fact that you can't rent a car unless you're 25 doesn't make matters any better for us youngin's.) This also doesn't take into consideration the hundreds to thousands of dollars it will take to repair said problems.

Sunday, August 4, 2002

sleeping cities

So there was a convention in California that my store was invited to. Since I've been there for years and am probably one of the top employees as far as product knowledge goes, I was invited to accompany the owners to Anaheim. It just so happened that my best friend, May, works at a store in Santa Barbara that is also connected with the convention. She was also invited to the convention, so this, of course, meant a night on the town with my best friend (after all the work was done, of course.)

It's amazing how quiet Anaheim gets after Disneyland closes. The streets are barren and it hardly seems to be a city in the bustling LA proper. I mean, LA never sleeps. Even in the wee hours of the morning you will find tourists galore crowding the streets and gangs prowling the alleys. This was different though. We drove for hours, talking about the most mundane things, which at the moment, seemed to be the perfect things to discuss. That happens with best friends. We found ourselves in front of the mobile home park my great grandfather once lived in, when I was young enough to sit on his lap while he told me stories of his youth. We bought California Lottery tickets, which, for some reason, has become a tradition whenever we see each other. We saw the "drive thru worship" area of the Crystal Cathedral, a moment I will always remember (and laugh at). We finally ended up at a Denney's when we found we could drive no longer. We ate cake, drank coffee, and took bad pictures of it all. It was a beautiful evening.