Journal

Adventures in a Chevy Chevette 2

I picked up my car this afternoon. It’s a 1987 Chevy Chevette, dark blue, and it’s falling apart. I had to have the alternator replaced, $141.69. This is the second time it’s been in the shop recently; two weeks ago, I just got it back after having the starter and flywheel (what the hell’s that?) fixed to the tune of $517.

Retro CarI’m feeling a bit disturbed by this; have been for awhile. I want to buy a new car, but I keep spending my savings on keeping this one running.

In Indianapolis, you have to have a car; public transportation is only for people who are seriously poor. There is only a bus system and it doesn’t run everywhere, all the time. Catching a bus is time-consuming and difficult.

If I wanted to catch the bus to work, I’d have to get up three hours earlier than I normally do, walk six blocks to the correct bustop (in the dark), and catch the bus north for a two hour bus trip. The bus will only go as far as 96th and Meridian, so I would have to walk six more blocks to 103rd, where I work.

It’s amazing to me how much not having my car affects my sense of identity. I feel helpless without a car, and less than a person. Which is, in this city, how you are meant to feel. In a country and a city where the car is king, if you don’t have one, there’s something wrong.

Which really makes me want to move.

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Adventures in a Chevy Chevette

I got stuck in my car. It’s a 1987 Chevy Chevette, dark blue, and it’s falling apart. It was freezing cold this Indiana morning, and there was a thick layer of ice over everything. I made the mistake of not looking outside at this inclement weather before I got dressed for work, so I was wearing my good long overcoat and my best leather shoes, and I had put everything in my briefcase rather than my backpack before setting out. I also had my lunch in a separate bag, and I was carrying five library books that I needed to return.

Old CarThe doors were frozen shut; both of them. They were unlocked, and the handle was working; the latch was loose, but the rubber of the door was frozen to the sides. By this time I was dropping the books, so I set the books, lunch, and briefcase on the hood of the car.

I kicked the door to try to get it free. (oh, yeah, also because I was mad. and cold.) When I kicked the door, everything that I had set on the icy hood slid off onto the ground. So I retrieved it all and set it on the top of the car.

The doors were impossibly stuck. So I went to the hatchback and opened it up. Of course I still had a bag of recycling in there, and three 25-pound bags of cat litter so the car would be weighed down in case it snowed, and a box of car supplies, like oil and antifreeze, which I was highly tempted to pour all over the outside of the car.

I had to move them, because I was going to have to climb in. But then I had no where to put my coat, which I had to take off to get in, so I fidgeted a bit in the cold trying to figure out what to do with it. I finally set it on top of the cat litter and hoped it wouldn’t get messed up.

I climbed into the hatch without any problem, but I couldn’t get over the back seat, so a spent what seemed like an eternity trying to unlatch it to flip it down. I finally did that, and was able to crawl through. I got over to the front seat, and remembered that everything I needed to take with me was still on the top of the car.

So I slithered back out and retrieved those things, in a jumble, because they were almost too much to carry. I set them ahead of me in the car and started to climb through. Instantly, I kicked my briefcase and it fell down on the floor between the front seat and the back, upside down, and all my papers spilled out.

I cursed, but ignored it, and continued climbing. I push the front passenger seat forward, so that I could climb over the stick shift to the driver’s side. But first, with great Insight (or so I thought at the time) I moved my lunch bag to the front passenger seat so that nothing would happen to it. [ foreshadowing…. ]

Now I had a dilemma. How to get both my legs through the narrow gap between the seats? I decided I could do it. I sat down on the backseat, and put through my left leg first, thinking that I would just slide through and my right leg would follow effortlessly. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the width in the near-dark; my left leg slid into place, and my butt did too; however, my right leg, or rather my right foot, stopped just behind the front passenger seat.

So I was sitting in my drivers seat, with my right leg folded behind me and my foot locked, and stuck in the back seat. And I was wedged there. In what was probably the most unnatural position I had ever been in. And my possessions were strewn behind, haphazardly in my wake.
I tried reversing the process, but I didn’t have anything to push backward from, and nothing to grab to pull myself up. I tried working with my foot, but to get it loose, I would have to break my leg, or twist it at an angle that no human leg should go. Damn, why didn’t I see this would happen before I started?

I started to panic, and remembered suddenly the last time I was stuck somewhere; in college when we were trying to carry my couch up a narrow set of stairs to my new apartment, and we aimed the couch at the wrong angle; I was stuck behind it for half an hour as I and three other English majors tried desperately to recall any physics principles that would help get the couch free, and thus me as well.

“Think. I’ve got to think.” I told myself, and I remembered; the doors. They may not open from the outside, but from within? I pushed on the driver door forever, but I couldn’t free it. So I stretched over to the passenger door, which, with a little wrangling, popped open. Promptly spilling my lunch out of its bag, into a puddle of water on the ground below.

I was too frustrated to swear anymore; by pulling myself across the seat, I could free my foot and get out of the car. So I wasn’t stuck, but I wasn’t driving either. I took the time to pick up my briefcase and sort it out, as well as retrieve my soggy lunch, before I tackled the task of getting over the stick shift.

This time I kept both my legs together (always a wise choice, it seems) and swung in from the roof of the car like Tarzan. “It’s working!” I thought delightedly, as I glided through the air, but my glee was short-lived as my butt landed with a sickening crunch between the two seats. “Oh, my god, I broke the emergency break.” I thought, “how do I explain that to a mechanic?” as felt around beneath me trying to determine the exact cause of the plastic cracking sound.

But it was only the plastic cup holder, which I could afford, so I climbed on through and shoved the pieces on the floor behind the seat, where I throw everything these days. I started the car and sat for ten peaceful minutes listening to the radio while we both warmed up. Then I drove to work calmly, deliberately, pretending that Nothing Had Happened. Nothing At All.

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Some Important Lessons Life Teaches You

Author Unknown

Lesson One: Most Important Lesson

During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"

Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name

I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say ‘hello".

I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

Second Important Lesson: Pickup in the Rain

This story has been investigated and proven to be untrue, according to Snopes.com.

One night, at 11:30 PM, an older African-American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached. It read: "Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others." Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole.

Third Important Lesson: Always remember those who serve you

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10 year old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him.

"How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked.

"Fifty cents," replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it.

"Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired.

By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient.

"Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied.

The little boy again counted his coins. "I’ll have the plain ice cream," he said.

The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left.

When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies.

You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.

Fourth Important Lesson: The Obstacle in Our Path

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the roads clear, But none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.

Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded.

After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the king indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway.

The peasant learned what many of us never understand. Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.

Fifth Important Lesson: Giving When it Counts

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.

The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before asking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I’ll do it if it will save her."

As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded.

He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?" Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

You see understanding and attitude, after all, is everything.

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The Angel of Death Dream

A dream I had where I was so scared that I was afraid to get out of bed to go to go to the bathroom, at 29 years old.

It started at an archeological dig, where we uncovered a huge skeleton of bird/reptile-like creature, about twice as large as a human. It looked like a human, with a reptile head and tail, and wings. We brought it intact to a laboratory nearby, to study it. There were about twenty or so people gathered around it on a table, when it suddenly came alive, spread it’s wings and rose up in the air.

[This much of the dream I can guess came from a Simpsons episode, although my dream wasn’t animated.]
There was a collective gasp around the room, and as everyone exhaled, it began devouring the people. I ran out the door with several others and down the hallway, as it followed, still eating people.

The dream then turned into one of my standard maze dreams, in which I turned down different hallways and got lost while being chased. Someone running with me believed that it couldn’t figure out where we were if we were shielded by metal or porcelain, so we ran from one tiled bathroom with metal stalls to another, and that seemed to work. But it was still not too far behind us, devouring people it ran across, and there was plenty of blood and guts in the dream.

Deus Ex Machina

We realized though, that we had to get out of the building, so we found a way outdoors. This was bad, though, because suddenly we were on a beach, without any cover, and the monster could see us. And, of course, its impossible to run in the sand. But the monster kicked up huge swirling sand storms as it moved, so we were able to tell where it was and hide in one building or another. Once we were caught without a building to hide in and had to climb in a cement culvert in the sand, and the monster overlooked us.

We found a building then, finally, that was made of cement, metal, and porcelain, and ducked in; we were safe. I was watching out the window as the two monsters shot up through the sky in a magnificent, beautiful, terrible display of lights.

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The Clothesline Dream

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I had a bizarre dream in which I had strung a clothes line from the gables of the roof of the house I live in now, right outside the kitchen window. And of course, I had just done laundry and hung all of my very favorite clothes, when a really violent storm blew up, and I frantically tried to get the clothes off the line before they all blew away.

Sorry to bore you with something that sounds so mundane, but it fascinated me because everything actually made sense except the clothesline. I had been worrying about getting my laundry done the day before. I had had a conversation about “favorite clothes” with some one. Earlier that day, there was a violent storm with high winds.

And the apartment was actually mine… You know how you will have a dream that your in your apartment or house, and you know it’s yours, but when you wake up, you realize, “that was nothing like my house, at all.” Well this actually was my apartment, my kitchen window, my gabled roof.

But where did that damned clothesline come from? And why am I so obsessed with my clothes? That really isn’t like me… Perhaps they represented something I was afraid would blow away…

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Reoccurring Contact Lens Dreams

In high school I got my first pair of contact lenses, that you can also order here. That was pretty unusual at the time; people didn’t wear them as much as they do now, and they were incredibly expensive. They also didn’t have disposable lenses; you had to clean them and care for them and hope they lasted for a year or two.

Because of the expense, my parents put the fear of God in me about taking care of my new contact lenses, so far from being the joyous experience it should have been, having lenses nearly gave me ulcers; I was terrified I’d lose them or tear them.

I started having reoccurring dreams about them, and in every dream they would change into something different, and I’d know there was something wrong with them, but I would still try frantically to put them in. I had a dream where they because little white shirt buttons. And one where they became large, blue, round jewels, like the Hope Diamond.

But in the dreams I had most often, they would still be lenses, but large, and cloudy. I worked at the library back then, and I had one dream that I had opened my lens case at work and that they had changed and grown huge; two inches in diameter. I still put them into my eyes, though, and tried to reshelve books, but I couldn’t really see them.

I had one of these dreams last year, when I was having too much trouble with my lenses and switched back to wearing glasses most of the time.

Contact Lens

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Reoccurring Dream: Mazes

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Since I was young, I’ve had a reoccurring theme show up in my dreams: mazes. It’s usually a familiar building; in high school it was the library I worked in; in college it was the dorm, since then it’s been various apartment buildings and the places I worked.

The building is familiar to me, but the layout is not; as I wander (or sometimes run, depending on being whether I’m being chased in the dream) through the rooms or halls, I discover passages I’ve never noticed before. I end up turning down them and quickly get lost. Usually the dream ends in a panic as I realize I’m trapped or so lost I’ll never get out.

A notable exception to the above is a maze dream I had about Jess Curtis, a very beautiful woman who sings locally here in Indianapolis, and a casual acquaintance of mine. In this dream, we’re in a house I don’t recognize, and she is leading me along, flirtatiously, always just one step around the corner from me, beckoning me onward. Eventually she climbs though a window, and I go after her. The window leads to another room in the house, where an old man sits, and he tells me which way to go to head her off at the pass. It works and I manage to grab her and hold her in my arms as the dream fades and I wake up.

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Quicksand Dream

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The first of two recent dreams about death…

In the dream, I went downstairs to the basement, which looking back now, I think was the basement on South East Fourth Street from my childhood.

Growing in the center of the floor was a plant; a weed, I thought, like a tiny tree. I went over to it to pull it up, I guess because I didn’t think it should be growing there. It seems kind of absurd; a weed growing in the basement with no sunlight. It had a reddish cast to the stalk, kind of like a rhubarb plant, but the stalk was round, rather than square like that plant. It had spiky leaves, and grew upward.

I went over to it and pulled on it, and it broke free of the ground pretty freely, and I was surprised to see that it was growing in sand rather than soil.

Then the ground started to shift beneath me, and I lost my footing. The sand started to fall into the hole I had just created, and I slid down with it. the sand quickly covered me, and I continued my downward slide.

My mind was racing, and I remember I thought, “if I can just stop here, I’ll be able to swim my way out to the surface.” But the sand swirled around me, and I kept falling farther. It dawned on me that I’d fallen perhaps fifty feet, and that I would never be able to get out alive.

And then I woke up, of course, have frightened myself half to death. And I am still wondering at the inner mechanics of my brain, and how I had constructed such a strange scenario with which to frighten myself. Because that dream still haunts me whenever I feel like I’m on unsure footing, both literally and emotionally.

I thought about it this summer when we all went to lake Michigan and laid out on the beach at Warren Dunes. It had been years since I’d been on a beach, and the sand had a way of sucking in around my feet that made my heart jump.
And we were walking across the rocks at The Falls, right here in Broadripple, where every step I took was on an unsteady rock that teetered beneath me, and paralyzed me to the spot, which made my friends laugh.

And I suddenly thought of it tonight, when the fears about my financial state and whether I have achieved what I should by the age that I am overwhelmed me when I laid down to sleep.

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Dodgeball God Dream

It’s hard to remember exactly how this dream began, but I remember for some reason being on the top of a sign pole, out in the countryside. I was there with Hercules, him beiname of dodgeball with energy balls that could kill us.

Zeus
Zeus

We were trapped, so we continued to do this for awhile, until Zeus came and rescued us; I can’t remember exactly how he did. Athena was with him, and we discovered that Zeus had lost some of his powers and couldn’t get back to Mount Olympus, and for some reason I was the only one who could find the way.

So I started to lead our little party off in the direction that I was aware held the answer… after we walked for awhile, I led us up over a hill, and there was the Space Shuttle. I knew right away that we needed to get on the shuttle to get to Olympus.

Shuttle
Shuttle

There were guards milling around, so we had to sneak on. There weren’t any ladders or stairs leading up to the shuttle, just glass blocks covered by wire mesh (I don’t know, don’t ask). But the mesh was too fine to get a grip on. So I looked at Zeus, and he managed to summon up enough energy to crimp the wire so I could get my fingers in and climb up. As I was in the process of climbing, I woke up, of course.

I have no analysis at all for this dream. I can’t even begin to imagine what made me combine ancient Greek myth and the space shuttle, which I think is nice, but not really interesting. I don’t remember what I ate, either. It must have been a burrito.

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The Military Dream

In this dream, I was in a high-rise apartment or office building on an upper floor. It was dark, and I was there with a bunch of other people, none of whom I recognized. We were part of some military group, and we had some assignment or mission to carry out. We were putting on military gear, camouflage and helmets. Everyone else had rifles, but when I think back, I didn’t. After we got all our gear on, we stood hidden at the windows waiting for some even to occur.

Eventually, it did, and we all started running downstairs to go outside. But I discovered as I was running, that I had forgotten my socks and shoes. I had to stop, go back and put them on, and try to catch up. By the time I got outside, everyone else was already in place. Then I woke up.

If I had to interpret, I’d say this dream was motivated by my fear of falling behind, and my fear of losing track of the details…

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