12/20/2004: "Signs, signs, everywhere signs"

music: Hum of the ice maker and the whirring of my laptop
mood: restless and toothachey

I've alwyas been one to believe in signs. Pay attention and the worl speaks to you. And sometime the world whispers and other times not so much. From the litte stuff to the life altering pieces of the puzzle are revealed in mysterious ( and not so mysterious ways). You can read the signs that the powers that be throw out there if you are just aware enough and open minded enough. There was an awaking yesterday morning I feel obligated to share.

A QUICK background on my happy yellow jeep. This car is the only thing that I ever wanted and succeeded in owning for me and just for me. No hand me downs, no used, no knowing that I will have to pass it on. Mine. Paid by me. Through all my financial troubles, I still managed to hold on to this car. Its essentially the closest thing to a child. I will make my last payment on it after 4 VERY long, hard and varrying degrees of mental stablility years. It has now 64K miles. It has been to Oregon, Arizona, New Mexico and made the trip to LA many times. It was for a very long time, my boyfriend. It was nad still very much is me to a tee. Rugged, happy, adventurous, very Californian ( in a good way). It is fun and free and pretty much the car is an extension of my personality and the perception I would wish the world to see me as. From the magic wand and stuffed animals on the dash to the bumper stickers on the crooked bumper ( not my fault BOTH times) this car is not only functional but expressive. Random people drive up next to me and give me thumbs up. There are a lot of yellow jeeps out there but none so perfect for its driver perhpas. None that the driver looks so suited for.

That being said, because its MINE, I get to treat it however I want. Now I do take care of it. I take it to get serviced, I get the oil changed, I have great tires and I drive safe ( now that the CD player doesn't work anyway). But ( and those that know what my room look like and know me can onloy imagine that that is a BIG "But") lets just say that the artists "organization" style and artists schedule tend to make my car a second home. A mobile place to put stuff (usually not passengers). On any given day in any given month it would not be unusual to find stage props, extra shoes, change, empty cans, lots of papers, earrings, crayons, power tools, glitter and miscellaneous random objects in and about the insides of my car. Messy yes but not ususally unhygenic.

There comes a time though when even the universe is tired of asking you politely to clean your friggin car. Yesterday was one of those times. I have been meaning to and to be honest have started to clean it out many times in the last few weeks, but not made any HUGE progress and certainly not started any scrubbing or real purging. Still, I believe when you find a smooshed milkdud and straw wrapper stuck to your pants and you have no idea HOW or WHEN it got stuck to you, needless to say, you better consider taking the time to clean your car. Clean it or the next sign is going to be FAR more embarrassing and potenially lethal. I have learned the universe has less patience that a 5 year old on xmas morning. It is time to clean the car. End of topic.

The weekend has passed and though I have done cleaning I have once again neglected my car innards. I do want for the record though to acknowledge my wrong doings and to let the parking gods or whoever may have so suruptitiously suggested that a clensing was due know that I am really almost about to get ready to think about beginning to start a clean up. Any day now. For real. Point totally taken

Signing out...