(this entry would have been posted last night except for whatever was wrong with diaryland caused me to lose it in its entirety.)

oh wow. the coolest thing happened yesterday. i was feeling really low, missing my friends in maryland, and the aforementioned lack of interesting men in my life. so i basically stayed in my room listening to the same sad songs all day, til my dad got home and told me to go outside. grudgingly, i pulled my hood up and stepped out into the rain. and that's when i saw IT.

my dad bought a 1964 cheverolet corvair. white. convertible. i'm in love. and i get to spend the whole summer working on it. learning what all the pieces under the hood mean. wearing a welding mask and learning to do bodywork. and then when it's all finished, i can put the top down and drive around making everyone jealous that i'm driving such a cool car.

it's a little-known fact that the first thing i ever wanted to be was a mechanic. i love cars. i love the line of a classic car, the sound of a powerful engine. i love the way all the parts work together, like some magic combination of metal and fire and power. cars feel like a giant puzzle. once you know how all the pieces work, it becomes a work of art to get them all performing together.

cars are my bond to my father. when i was little, he taught me the models and makes of cars on long trips. when i got my first car, he taught me to change my oil, my tires, etc. no matter how rocky our relationship has been, we could always talk about cars. when he fixes my car, i know he's telling me he loves me in the best way he knows how.

there are some people who think that cars are only about getting from one place to another, or about speed and 0 to 60 performance only. i have just one thing to say: they're missing out. oh, and they usually drive ugly cars.

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