distractions of daily life while awaiting news of transplanted friend

[Guest guest]

Last evening, having only used my car a few hours before, I went down

to get in and drive to my cousin's for shabbat (Friday thing). Idiscovered that

my Toyota, nicknamed " Yota " had more or less been

demolished by an apparently small (from set of wheel) gang of teen-

agers. Now in the long run of things, it will all work out. I have what

is called a " blind trust fund " which has enough to buy a good used car.

And that is inconvenient, but rescue will take place next week. What

annoys me the most, I think, especially as I await news of my friend,

is that I am a person who tends to " personalise, " yes, even anthropo

morphise objects. For example, my previous Buick was " Buck the

Buick, " from Pendleton, Oregon, where they have Rodeos. " Yota, "

I felt strongly was the only female car that I had ever known. And, she

had been my cousin Ursula's car, and it was somewhat like having Ur

sula still following me around, having her car--I could tell, as I had even

briefly begun to park in the odd manner, characterisitic of Ursula!

Then, there is the refrigerator, " Frosty, the Snowman, " the blender,

" Tornado, " the food processor, " Cranky, " , and the microwave oven,

" Angelo! " We will not get into what I have named my compu

ter, a Gateway Business fellow!

But I have always had very intimate relationships with my vehicles,

ever since I saw a series on the telly about and his car, Kit,

who more or less ran his life and gave him orders. I talk to my cars,

and then impersonate voices of them and talk back to me--probably a

way of handling what we here in the usa call " road rage! " So now,

next week I have to sally forth with friends and buy a more new used

car, so as not to blow the whole trust fund! It is a daunting prospect.

All my life, my cars were given to me by either my father or my husband, whether

or not I picked them out. Now, I must sally forth

and " go it alone! " I am NOT buying a Toyota, despite their superb

engines, as any idiot can break into one. I will think of something, and

I just have a feeling that it will be male!

My cousin Ursula, about fourteen to fifteen years my senior, was con

vinced that I really did believe that objects had personalities and un

derstood what I was saying. We just did not discuss that much; I did

my best to give her a truly " withering " look!

But now I am not so sure, as I must sally forth in quest of a new road

companion, or as I think of them, giant wheel chairs! Any suggestions

are welcomed. All my cars have been greenish-gray to bluish-gray; I

detest red, so that is out, yellow or orange, too!

But it distracts me a bit as I await further news. My friend has survived

and has 100% lung capacity and sats--but has graft rejection! Those of

you on other lists will know of her.

I think Rosemary's Checkhov quote is appropriate here, to the effect

that any idiot can handle a crisis, but it takes a bit more to cope with

every day life! Like cars.

My highest hopes for my friend emerging from transplant as if from a

another world, that of those still struggling for breath.

Love to all at cfparents,

n, who is mostly concerned about her friend, not the car!