So, my car, Fiona, apparently is in need to four new tires. I caught just a tiny bit of DatelineNBC Monday night, and they were talking about Cooper Tires that had come apart, causing an accident which killed a woman. Oh, wait. Allegedly caused an accident that killed a woman, that is. I’m pretty sure that the tires I presently have on my car are Coopers. (These are the snow and mud tires I bought 10 years ago. My stock tires basically fell apart three years ago, and I couldn’t afford to buy a new set, so I just put on the snow and mud tires, which, up until then, had rarely been used.) I went out into the garage after the Dateline segment with a flashlight to look at the tires and see what name was on them, but couldn’t find a name. What I did find, however, was what appeared to be a thin gap running around the outside edge of the front right tire. I checked the others, and they either didn’t have a line at all, or the line wasn’t as bad as the front right. So, I wonder, does this mean the tread is pulling apart from the rest of the tire? Will I be cruising down the 101 at 80 mph and suddenly have the tire fall apart on me? Shit! I know this is not good, but I didn’t actually plan on putting much more money into Fiona this year - I was just going to replace the broken glove box, get her oil changed, drive the hell out of her, then trade her in for something else next year. I just put a new battery in her last year, and got a new soft-top, plus repairs on one of the cylinders the year before, not to mention the two new clutches she’s had since I bought her nine years ago! I was finished with her! Besides, I seriously had other plans for that money: microdermabrasion, a few sessions with a personal trainer, nutritional supplements, a trip to Hawaii, a hefty contribution to the Campaign of Rob . . .

*Sigh!* I just can’t seem to win with this darn car! Maybe I’ll just spend a damn fortune on her, get her repainted and everything, and keep her for two years!

Then again, maybe I’ll look into getting rid of her sooner rather than later. Maybe this summer. Or tomorrow. The local Mazda dealer does have a nice looking silver Miata sitting in the lot. I haven’t gone to look at it, yet, and have no idea if it’s new or used, or what they’re asking for it, but I’m thinking that’s what I’d like to have. Another Miata. In silver. (I know I once mentioned a desire to own the upcoming Mini Cooper, but really, I’d like to stick with a convertible. Once you’ve gone topless, it’s really hard to go back to a coupe. ) Silver is the colour I was originally going to get my Miata in back in ‘90 and ‘91, until I saw the BRG ones. Now, I’m looking at the silver again, and liking it more than some of the other car colours I’ve seen. It’s classic, you know? Sure the light metallic aqua is gorgeous, but in a couple years, it’ll look weird. Dated. Like all those bright neon colours they put on the first Dodge Neons, or the lime green they had on the new Beetles a year or so ago. Sure they were cool then, but now they look, well, for lack of a better word: weird. Too 1990's. Silver, on the other hand, is timeless. You get a silver or grey car, and you can’t really tell what year it’s from until you look at it closer. Maybe it’s just me. Anyway . . .

The thing is, it’s going to be hard to get rid of Fiona. It was hard to get rid of Andy (‘83 Toyota Celica hatchback, silver, in case you were wondering, and named after Prince Andrew, because I had a bit of a crush on him at the time.), when I traded him in for Fiona. I cried on the way home. I know it’s stupid. They’re just cars. They’re not real. They don’t have feelings. They don’t have personalities. They don’t care who’s driving them. They don’t feel pain when they get a scratch or get rear-ended. But, I’m a freak, and I tend to give inanimate items, like stuffed animals, computers, and cars, feelings and personalities. I decide which sex they are. I give them names. I imagine how they might feel when I do this or that. It’s a weird thing I do, I know, but I can’t help it.

I also know I’ve had this conversation with myself about getting rid of my car a few times already. I’m not going to bother going back to find those old entries and link to them, so if you care, you’ll just have to go hunt them down yourself. You probably know how this will turn out: I’ll whine and bitch and moan about having to spend more money on my car, but in the end, when I drive her again, I’ll fall in love with her all over again, and will wonder whatever possessed me to consider getting rid of her in the first place.