My car!

I have a ca-aar! I have a ca-aar!
This is not a very new development, but I thought it was about time I talked a little bit about the love of my life, Jade.
She is a beautiful '97-ish Celica of a shady green color, small and sleek and with the loveliest little headlights you've ever seen. Of course, she's not TOTALLY mine until I can afford to pay for insurance, repairs, and gas (translation: until I accomplish my full driver's license and can get a job), but we still get along well enough.
For the most part.
If you've read my blog at all, you know what's coming next - - a full account of how I destroyed her in some despicable way.
And that's pretty much what this is.
On my birthday, the day she was given to me, the first time my poor mother ever rode with me, my sister's German tutor was visiting. Her car was parked in an exceedingly awkward place, so I veeeery carefully backed up... And my front bumper gently grated against her rear bumper as I went by.
Hissing between my teeth, I craned to see if there was any damage, sitting up tall in my seat and forgetting for a moment to brake...
My back bumper scraped against the wall of the house.
I cried out in frustration, while my mother did her best to assure me that it wasn't my fault I'd almost taken out both a visiting car and my own house. Desperate to get out of the driveway, I moved forward again....
And guess what my front bumper lovingly kissed?
I backed off once again and finally, FINALLY, I got down our driveway and onto the road!
My apology to my dear little car came in the form of giving her a thorough cleaning, inside and out, that very weekend.

"Well!" you say. "That's quite an adventure, Miss Monday! Good thing you didn't actually do any damage! Now you're going to tell us that everything has been spiffing since then, right?"
Don't mock me, rhetorical reader. You know me too well for that if you know me at all.
My first accident was far less traumatic than first accidents might be. No one was injured, except my pride and poor Jade.
I was at a busy intersection and very keen to get home. In order to do so, I had to take a left turn across two lanes of rapidly-approaching traffic. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, an opening came. It was a small one, but I thought I could make it... I lunged for it, so to speak, turning quickly as I swooped toward the narrow road.
I didn't turn quite quickly enough.
With a terrible, sickening, grating noise, the front right side of my little car was savagely torn by the curb. My heart lurched within me as the wheel seemed to fade away in my hands, already beginning to lose its strength. Jade and I staggered into the nearest turnoff: a gravel-lined parking lot in front of a rather shady preschool center. I sat there for a moment, hyperventilating and crying and in general losing my composure. I shakily got out of the car and went around to the front. I couldn't see any damage... Not really... Was Jade okay? Was I overreacting?
I got back in the car and drove in a few circles around the parking lot. All seemed well...
Until I tried to turn right.
Jade screeched in pain and weakly tried to do my bidding, but it was obvious that I was hurting her. I stopped at once, trying to think if I could get home without taking a right turn...
The thing was impossible.
Weeping openly over the injury to my poor little car, and over my seemingly desperate situation, I handed back a cell phone to my younger sister, who was sitting in the back seat. She called my brother and requested aid.
I listened to Enya and did (or tried to do) math problems while I waited for him to arrive.
He did his best to take off the wheel, but with a cap missing from one of the lug nuts, there was no way he could get it off. So we called a towing service and, as my poor little car was born away to a nearby garage, my accommodating brother took us home in his own small sedan.
All told, the damage cost a thousand dollars to repair. The wheel had been cracked, the tire burst, and the front drive shaft broken beyond repair. But Jade survived, and ever since then I have heeded my father's repeated advice and curbed my enthusiasm for curbs.

I'm sorry, Jade - - but all of us have to learn to drive sometime.