my car and such

I have some deep thoughts that I'm mulling over, but I am still too scatterbrained to type them out clearly.

My allergies have been terrible the past few days. 

Therefore, I have been high on benadryl. 

On a 1/4 dose of benadryl, people. A 1/4 dose!

What can I say? 

So, tomorrow, I am venturing out on an interesting endeavor. 

I'm taking a road trip.

I feel like a road trip is a rite-of-passage. I feel like this will be fun. 

Me. 3 1/2 hours. A long highway. My car. My camera at pit stops. My tunes. 

Not a crazy long road trip, but it will still be the longest trip that I've taken in one stretch in my beautiful stick-shift car: 

It's not bad for a first car, not bad at all. 

I positively love driving it. I'm about to the point where it feels like an extension of me. I'm still a wee bit jerky when I start from a dead stop, but I'm working on it...

Today, I realized that the summer was slipping on by. 

I realized that I wanted to visit my Mimi. 

I realized that I didn't have any solid plans for this week.

I remembered that I had a car...

and the thoughts came together in an instant. Faster than it took you to read all of that. 

Like, boom, boom. Two seconds and it all came together. 

It was on impulse that I asked my parents what they thought of my proposition. 

Happily, they agreed that it was a good idea. (of course they've made sure to go over some safety issues/procedures, and all of those things that loving parents do to make sure I'm cared for. Their worry makes me feel loved.) 

So as the idea hit me that I should go for a road trip, Dad told me I should make sure all was right with the car. 

Meaning, I needed to check fluid levels, tires, and other things that fall under "tune-up" (I really like that word, it sounds like I actually did some sort of tweaking of the engine). 

That first part wasn't hard, though it was a bit dirty under the hood. 

The part that was hard was when I decided to wash my car (the isuzu needs a name. I'm working on it. Suggestions? I'm thinking something crazy like Vendela or Esmé or...I think it's the benadryl talking...)

 Not only that, I was going to wax my car, too. 

I had a mental image of my gleaming car, ready to roll down the road in the morning, thanks to my waxing compound and nice buffing job.

Oh the insanity. 

Let's just say...I'm not going to try to be an overachiever anymore. 

Washing the car was easy, but waxing that thing took ages. 

This car is about 15 years old, so the paint isn't exactly glossy. In fact, I might go so far as to say that the paint is on the porous side of things.

I think that the car actually looks worse after my attempt at waxing. The wax got stuck in every nick (and this baby has its share of nicks) I buffed and buffed. 

My arms felt like they were going to fall off, but the wax/compound remained. IT WOULD NOT GO AWAY! I spent about three hours in total washing and waxing and tuning-up. The waxing took 75% of that time. 

Finally, I got most of the compound off, but every scratch is now blaring.

I feel like I have accomplished nothing. All of that blood (figurative, pumping through my body of course), sweat (literally, literally, for rizzle), and tears (of frustration held back for dignity's sake) for naught. 

Ah, c'est la vie. 

Wish me luck! Or better yet, pray for me. Pray that I don't die or kill anyone. Wow, that sounds morbid. Moving along. 

Posting in this state of mind is going to be interesting to look back on...