I was thinking today while I was driving about how much I love my car. This is not a new thought. I have thought this since the first day I got to drive the car nine years ago. I was fifteen and my mom was sitting shotgun. I was not a good driver then. Let’s see there’s the whole almost taking myself off the freeway ramp incident and the unfortunate tree “scrapping” situation (did you know suburbans come with touch up paint in a nail polish like container? genius). Back to my car. It’s a 1990 Acura Ledgend. It’s not new and it’s definately been through a lot. The car has been so good to me, and I can’t even afford to put premium fuel in there. Then a few weeks ago the inevitable happened. I was getting on the freeway and the car started shaking, sputtering and basically not moving forward. I pulled off to the side of the road. Do you do that thing where you look at people on the side of the road? I do and it sucks to be the one looked at. Well it went in the shop and it’s all happy now $300 and a new alternater later. It got me thinking about my car’s impending death. I just don’t know what I will do. The car is so perfect. You can see out of it so well, it’s got a sunroof, and everything is automatic and electronic. And it’s a luxury car. I mean, yeah, a really old one, but it’s not like I could afford a new one. I can’t afford a new car at all. So please, please hang in there!!! I need you. And I promise someday I will pimp you out and get you your antilock breaks back and make you brand new.