Trouble with a Capital T and That Rhymes with C and That Stands for Car‏

I basically got my Honda through an arranged marriage.

When I reached a certain age, my parents came to me and said, "It's time for you to get a car. We're going to find a decent car for you, and then you're going to pay for it."

And I said, "Okay." And then they found me a white Honda, and I got some money out of my account and I bought it. Like I said, an arranged marriage. But with a car.

Say what you like about arranged marriages, but this one has been a smashing success. I named my car Bernard after a lesser known Disney character, and we've gotten along swimmingly ever since. Although Bernard is an older model with many miles, he's run very well for me and hasn't had many problems...until last year.

It all started with the inexplicably locked driver's door, and it all went downhill from there. In October, Bernard began experiencing engine trouble that included but was not limited to blown fuses, ruined wiring, and misfires.

I took him back to my mechanic time and time again. Each time, they said they'd fixed the problem. And each time, Bernard would within days experience the same or a related problem.

You may be wondering, "Awkward Mormon Girl, why didn't you just try taking Bernard to a different mechanic?" That does seem the sensible thing to do, doesn't it? Well, there are a few reasons for this: a) since this mechanic had already been mucking about in Bernard's engine, he at least had an idea of what was going on under there, b) my mechanic is usually quite good; it's only this past year that he hasn't been on his game, and c) I tend to believe in possibilities.

By that I mean that I believe that things can change. So this boy isn't interested in me today? He might feel differently tomorrow. I didn't have a very good improv show this week, but I can do better next week. It's snowing right now, but in a few hours, it could be clear. You know, things like that. Often I'm pleasantly surprised at what happens when I believe in someone. I'm also often profoundly disappointed.

The first time the mechanic and his employees didn't fix my car properly, I said, "I'm sure that they'll get it this time."

The second time: "Third time's a charm!"

The fifth time: "They're bound to figure it out this time!"

Who-knows-what time: "Eventually, they'll exhaust all other possibilities and then they'll have to get it right!"

Obviously, this has been very frustrating. Older Sister innocently suggested a solution.

What she said: "Why don't you just buy a new car?"

What I heard: "Why don't you just get a new best friend?"

Needless to say, I did not take this suggestion well. I could definitely buy a new car if I absolutely needed to, but I don't want to.

I have full confidence that God is looking out for me and Bernard and that one way or another, things will be A-okay. But, in the meantime, the money that I keep having to throw at car repairs is the money that I was planning to use to buy a new laptop to replace Quits. (Quits is quite beautifully living up to his name.) Then there's my smartphone, which sometimes mysteriously shuts down at 30% battery. And while I'm airing grievances, the soles of my boots keep coming off, despite the enormous quantities of hot glue I have used on them.

I feel like this is an appropriate time to quote Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire:

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" Ron said furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak.