Meaningless Worries of Mine
2004-05-27 00:04:52 (UTC)

My First Car

Weight: like I’d care to know right now
Cigarettes: 6 within past hour and a half (blah)
Times I’ve shook my head at thought of crazy sister: neck
has cracked at least 9 times
Attempts at making this world a better place today: Does
packing up my sister’s countless shoes count?
Moments I’ve realized that OneLifeTwoLive is a lot more
like me than I care to admit: 2 (online and on the phone)

The first entry is always something that sets up the
standard for everything else in this journal, right? I’m
supposed to give you a general introduction to what it is
that makes me. For example, I have an older sister, who
I’d like to refer to as Tester because she constantly
tests my patience more than everyone I know combined, a
younger brother who I can only refer to as Blessing
because he’s the only one that can make me crack up in 0.3
seconds. My mom and dad are great people, and I suppose I
have yet to realize that in my lifetime, but I do work
towards that every single moment that I can look at my
surroundings without rolling my eyes at least twice. I’m
unemployed right now but I used to work at a hospital as a
secretary on the Orthopedic floor, a job that I loved with
every once of me, but taught me to despise hospital
administrators because they don’t see the quality of one’s
work but rather the technical aspects of everything. Long
story short, I was forced to quit, but had I told my boss
to fuck off like another secretary did a week before I was
to be fired, I could have been suspended for a month with
pay and come back to my beloved floor and my beloved co-
workers and lived happily ever after, making a very decent
living and doing the job that I loved doing. I have a
handful of friends that I call my good friends and
numerous friends that I suppose are just acquaintances. I
consider my sister my best friend because I know that,
just like me, she will be there for me through thick and
thin and no matter what happens in my life, she is the one
constant force that will always drive me to be the better
person that she knows I can be. Our conflicts come more
from the fact that she was always a motherly figure when
we were growing up, and she has yet to grow out of that
stage. I need a sister now, not another mother. Now,
that would be considered a good introduction, right? That
is not how I want to begin my rants and meaningless
worries of mine with you. I’d prefer to start by telling
you about my first car, a 1994 Concorde that I totaled 2
years ago.
My car was basically my second home in that I
slept there, I studied there, I ate in there, I laughed at
the talk radio shows I listened to in there, I heard of
the events of September 11th there, I had my first actual
kiss in there, and it was my darling that took me to all
of the wonderful places that gave me experiences that make
me who I am today. I was a kid when I got my car, an
idiot, perhaps. I didn’t get the oil changed like I
should have, I got an abnormally amount of flat tires in
that car, there were cigarette burns on my seat, a dent on
the side when I underestimated the space I had to park
next to a green bus only because I was scared to be in the
city of Detroit by myself. And then I totaled it. I look
at where I am now in relation to this car, a comparison
that my sister despises, but it is the awful truth. There
was so much hope when I had this car. I attended class
regularly, I worked regularly, I had my heart broken only
once, and I was young. I’m not saying that I’m an old
mess of nothing now, but I am older, this is a fact. This
car that is somewhere in car heaven represents me. I have
my dents on the side, I have my cigarette burns on my
seats, I don’t take care of everything like I should, but
I am who I am, and the possibilities were always endless.
And so, with all of this hope and possibility, where did
it end up? At a junk yard with other cars bent up as
well, lost in a collection of cars that were once great
and had their moment in the sun, but for whatever reason,
ended up there. I don’t mean to come off as depressing or
implying that my life is over. No, no. :o) I am content
at where I am, I just don’t want to end up in that
junkyard because I know I don’t belong there. My personal
dents and cigarette burns have been far from burdens for
me. They have made me the colorful person that I am
today. One who does not despise God, but is confused with
His intentions sometimes. Hell, I can’t even really say
that I believe in Him, I just started praying again 2
weeks ago, that is a different post. I look at pictures
of my first car in my album and smile at the silliness of
myself in those ages. My concerns were if I had at least
20 bucks in my pocket which would be enough for 2 hours of
pool with my then best friend Brad and at least 2 Pepsi’s
while I was there. I’m 21 now and I have a new range of
concerns that only worry me because I know that in another
year, I’ll have about ten more things to worry about. It
doesn’t make me mad or sad or discouraged, but just
curious as to what will be put on my plate by the chain of
events in the future. Every passing day is another
reminder of what you had once dreamed to be with all
passion, and a reminder again of how much your dreams
change as you age each day. I look forward to aging, not
because of the additions to my already overflowing plate,
but because I know there will be countless faces I shall
meet, unforgettably funny moments with my friends, and
loving moments with my family that will fuel me to be the
person I know I will be next week, and next year. Are you
coming along for the ride? You decide…

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