Golden Memories

Yesterday marked the end of an era. My days riding the Golden Bullet are over.

To those of you unfamiliar with the legendary Golden Bullet, let me introduce you. The Golden Bullet was a long, cylindrical, gold-colored motor vehicle, tapered in front, and somewhat resembling the shape of a bullet (except on a much larger scale of course). It was the Town and Country minivan that I inherited when I moved home from college. Not exactly my first choice of a vehicle, but free equaled beauty in my eyes. The Golden Bullet had been in my family for almost ten years, and in my personal care for the last year and a half. Now, at the end of its life, I look back and reminisce over all the times we shared…

My first memorable experience with the Golden Bullet was less than a year after I got my driver’s license, when I discovered its Texas-sized blind spots, and how perfectly palm trees could fit in them. Oh Golden Bullet, you carried that dent in the back right corner to the end of your days…

After I went to college she was in my parents’ care, so I had to hear through the grapevine all their woes and remorse over buying a slightly used, American-made vehicle. Coming back from college, I gave up the sporty red Camry (with its spoiler and stick shift), to take under my wing the now-aging Bullet. My parents had moved on, and so it was left to me to coax out of her whatever love and loyalty was left. I know she tried…

I faced mockery for my “soccer mom van,” but I didn’t care. I was towed twice (praise AAA) in a month, but I forgave her because I wanted to believe she was still trying. The belt squeaked (even after being replaced twice) and the engine chunked, but I knew her heart was in the right place. When the temperature gauge climbed and smoke started oozing out of the hood, I would pull off the road and pray with her. I even enlisted one of my mechanic friends to help with a desperate surgery on her electric fans. A little duct tape, and she managed to hold it together a little longer…

Her last great service to me was to help me move all of my possessions up to Indianapolis. Her willingness to help showed me at last that all of my care and dedication, all of my hanging in there with her when everyone else told me to give up, had been worth it. She made it.

I decided to drive her back down here for Christmas, because I knew she was reaching her last days (also because my brother needed a ride and I decided that the recommended $1,200 of repairs were NOT going into a ten-year-old minivan that was in its death throws anyway). It took all of her strength to get home but she did it. We lost a wiper blade but she pushed on. The windshield washer fluid stopped spraying but she charged blindly forward. As the brakes began to show less response, I knew it was only because the Bullet couldn’t stand to be slowed. By the time we got to Florida, even the AC had stopped working, but the Golden Bullet would not be stopped.

We made it home, and yesterday we took the Bullet to the Ford dealership, where she did us one last service. She traded herself in so that I could keep driving. She still looked beautiful, and she managed by some miracle to convince the trade-in guy that she was worth twice as much as I ever expected to get for her. You done me proud, Golden Bullet.

I have a shiny new red Focus to drive now, with a stick shift and an auxiliary plug so that I can actually listen to my iPod. It’s cute and compact, clean and fuel-efficient. But the Golden Bullet will never be forgotten.

No. DEFINITELY not.

She’s been, er, unforgettable...

A Few of My Favorite Things (Indy Edition)

Since moving to Indianapolis about a month ago, I’ve faced challenges and blessings. This blog is about the blessings. One thing I love about being here is being able to spend more time with my little nephews (TECHNICALLY they are my cousins once removed, but since their mom is practically my sister ANYWAY, they shall henceforth be referred to as my nephews). A few weeks ago I babysat them for a couple days, and considering the fact that I ABHOR babysitting (as those of you who know me are certainly aware), this fact alone says volumes about how exceptional these little guys are to my heart. Please observe the following pictures and appreciate the preciousness. :)

Another fun aspect of my life since moving is the weather. Perhaps the novelty will soon wear off, but for now it is still exciting every time white lace begins to trickle down from the clouds and settle over the landscape. And thanks to my cousin/friend Sarah (technically my cousins’ cousin, although we’ve adopted each other as family), I had the euphoric experience of building my very first snowman! Okay… it wasn’t exactly euphoric, and it was actually more like a snow-lady-midget, but it was still pretty fun for a girl who grew up building sandcastles and catching lizards in the tropics. Here is our work:

Other highlights have included finding a church that myself, Sarah, and the bf all like, the discovery of dairy-free pizza, mac n cheese, and chocolate, an amazing Indian restaurant, and landing an interview with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra’s Patron Services department (pray that one up!). Now all I need is employment, and we’ll be in good shape. :)

Bring on the holidays!

A Few Thousand Words (and a Colts Game)

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so rather than yammering on for ten days about my first professional football game, here are the pics.

On Sunday, November 28, I went to my first NFL game ever! (Though I'm not a die-hard football fan, I've secretly always wanted to go to one.) In Florida, everyone has their own beloved sports teams. In Indy, the Colts ARE the team. You live there, you ARE a Colts fan. Which is kind of cool in its own way, with everyone being all gung-ho together and everything. Honestly, going to the game was so exciting that I may have to be a Colts fan now out of nostalgia...

At the beginning of the game some servicemen unrolled this gigantor flag onto the field (ah, patriotism), while Sandy Patti sang the national anthem.

Yes. Sandy Patti.

The giant bouncehouse down in the corner is the portal through which the players pass to enter the field at game time (accompanied by deafening applause).

The last player to enter is #18, Peyton Manning, who is basically the Zeus of Indianapolis.

Playing the Game

This is B.F.'s sister and one of his brothers. Five boys, one girl. Whoa. I don't know what I'd do without Jenna when I go visit.

These are B.F.'s two youngest brothers. The one on the right I'm pretty sure is the Colts' most passionate fan. He looked at me at one point during the game and shouted above the perpetual roar, "We come to a Colt's game, and Joanna is texting. Unbelievable!"

Whoops.

He also greeted me with, "That's the shiniest jersey I've ever seen!!" I think it was a compliment?

My hook-up for the tickets.

Somehow we ended up sitting near these Chargers fans (booooo...), and at several points I was tempted to throw ice at their heads.

Unfortunately the Chargers did beat the Colts, but that was really just a minor detail in an overall pretty fricken sweet experience.

So I'm still broke and jobless, but the occasional highlights (like awesome sports games) are making the waiting phase much better. :)

Fine.