Monday, November 18, 2013

The day my dear Subie died.

There are so many things I am seeing and learning in this city, some of which are pretty okay, many of which make my head want to explode. But for the purpose of this post, I will stick to the facts.

Minnesota drivers are the worst drivers I've ever encountered.

Last week I was heading to an appointment downtown'ish, when a mini-van ran a red light and drive straight into me. Fortunately it was on side streets and no one was driving very fast. By some stroke of luck, after they pried off the door of my car, I was able to walk away without so much as a scratch.

I wish I could day the same thing about my dear Subaru.

I know, technically, it's just a car. But to me, it's so much more.

My Subaru and I had been partners in crime since October 2003, when I walked to the dealership to pick it up on Halloween day. And if a 10-year relationship wasn't enough to tug on my heart strings, my grandparents helped me pick out and pay for my car. It had sentimental value far beyond the the memories that I made driving it.

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