Cold, scared, and cynical.

This was initially in my folder to get sent into the BMW CCA weekly newsletter, Roundel, but I decided that the content wasn’t exactly “carcentric” enough. So, instead of letting it just slip away and disappear into the great oblivion, I guess I’ll share it with the faithful following I do have.

A few things happen after every break up for me, it usually starts with a flood of tears, I gain about twenty pounds, a lot of angst and then an agonizing reappraisal of my life and who I let into it. Most of the time I usually move a couple of states away and say “see ya later alligator” to the people that I knew and became friends with in a particular zip code. This is an awesome display of my escapist mentality, but this last one was a bit different. There was no possible way for me to skip town, I actually had things to stick around for, my car club people was one of them, my car was another.

As I have several times in my past, I found myself loading up all of my prized possessions in the back of my One Series and getting really up close and personal with the past five years of my life. Most of those I had my One Series, he’s always there for me, but when it came down to hauling my life away, he fell a little bit short. I made due, taking several trips of course, and never did I consider the fact that I could easily just go rent a moving truck or something, but that would just be too easy. I’m just the kind of person that cannot accept the easy way out, and in this situation I did have to borrow one pick up truck and a couple of burly men to help me move my huge life long accumulation of furniture, which actually only comprises of a cheap desk I bought off of Craigslist and a leather chair, which I also bought off of Craigslist.
I sat in the driveway of what was going to be my new home, sitting in the One Series in the cold, and cried like a baby. I spent that night sleeping in the car with the seat warmer on, because the car felt more like home than any edifice ever could. That car was my slice of peace, serenity, hope, and I didn’t want to leave it. During the course of the first two months of my newly found solo life I spent more time in the One Series than I did anywhere else, that car was my life.
Instead of trying to nest into a new home, I found myself driving aimlessly through the mountains trying to figure out where life went wrong. My One Series was thrown around so many corners and up so many mountains in those two months I racked up almost 12,000 miles on it before year end. If there was a chunk of time that I wasn’t either working or in school I was in my car somewhere, anywhere, thinking of all the new places we could go, but more often than not the places that we had been. The One Series and I, it’s a bond unlike a relationship, even a marriage, it’s like my soul mate, he’s got a personality, he’s got a story, and he’s got a lot of pull on what I do with my life.
I now look at my, ahem, less plush lifestyle and realize that owning a BMW isn’t all about “showing up to the party in a BMW”, it’s a way of thinking. I have always has a weird connectivity with my cars, and in part I had a pretty good relationship with my Shark, but at the same time I find myself laughing, crying, and living in my One Series more comfortably than I have in any apartment I could ever rent. Actually, instead of getting a nice apartment and nesting in, I’ve decided to use my money to sustain my car payment and insurance on my One series and the Shark. Doing the math, I could have a pretty nice place, but that would mean giving up my car, which isn’t going to happen.
In the process of breaking up, my ex got a new Z4, and I couldn’t be more excited for him. In difficult times there is nothing better than a car that makes you laugh, smile, and remember what’s good in the world and not all the crappy things that people (me) has done to him. I will say this, however, that Z4 is a sexy car with amazing lines and an interior that feels like it encompasses you in a safe embrace every time you get in, but I ¬†wouldn’t want one. The next time I’ll have to skip town there won’t be room for all my stuff.
Actually, I should just break down and get a Winnebago with a car dolly to tote my car with me. Que sera sera.
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3 thoughts on “Cold, scared, and cynical.

  1. Nikki, tired to reply earlier my message kicked back (see below). I know I posted on FB, but this is a more thorough comment.

    I can dig it, and now know why you do not have an “alias” related to a certain 2-seater. I bought a new 1983 GTI shortly after my first marriage ended in divorce. That little car brought much peace of mind during a really rough time for me (the divorce, of course, but also the death of John Lennon, one of my musical heroes). I spent many hours cruising Detroit (where I lived at the time) and vacuumed, washed and waxed the GTI as often as I could. I guess i was trying to take good care of it because it was taking good care of me.

    Looking forward to your next post. Best regards,

    Ernie

  2. Your bond with your car (or cars) is a relationship that we can understand and control. If it breaks we can fix it. Most don’t need near the upkeep as a spouse, and they are much easier to understand. What is not to like?

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