I hate...Paying my car loan every month. It's that time of the month again, yes, time to pay all your bills. Obviously, no one actually likes paying bills, no one says "whoppie!" when all they get in the mail is a seemingly endless stream of letters from money collectors, but I hold out a particular hatred for the one I have to pay to the Lexus dealership every month. I don't have it as bad as most: my car payments are very low, as I bought my 2002 Lexus IS300 used, and I only have another three years until it's all paid off, but still, it's the principle of the thing. Even though I'm fully aware that I alone made the decision to finance the purchase of my vehicle, the bill every month is a constant reminder of how much of a moron I feel like for having done it. Even though I love my Lexus (pictured above), the logical side of me sees what a stupid thing financing a car can be. First, financing means that you have the obvious downside of having to pay more than the sticker price overtime, which sucks right off the bat. Second, you have the fact that you now own something that you paid a significant amount of money for that will only decrease in value over time. In fact, a car is really just a giant money suck: between insurance, DMV fees, tickets (parking or otherwise), gas, maintenance, and fixing the inevitable mechanical failures, you end up coughing up more "scrill" after you purchase the car then the day you actually bought it! It's ludicrous! And because the state of public transit (where I live) is abysmal at best, you have almost no choice but to own a car unless you plan on bumming rides from your already over-shecduled friends, or only living within the confines of however far you're willing to walk or ride your bike (and good luck with THAT in a county that has more hills, valleys, and windy roads than the Ho Chi Minh Trail).
but all the same...
I love...
Fixing my car. I may be a girl, but my Daddy still thought it very important to teach me basic car maintenance: I know how to check and change all the fluids, fix a flat, rotate the tires, and properly detail everything from the wheels to the dashboard. Now, I'm no mechanic, I still think oil is "ickey", and I let my boyfriend do all the work on my car when he offers (which he always does, "Thank you, love!"), but I still like knowing that if need be, I can roll up my sleeves, jack up the car, grab a Chilton's manual from Kragen, and do what's got to be done. There's a special satisfaction that comes with driving a car that you waxed by hand, or just bled and replenished the coolant system: you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that your car runs smoothly and shines like a well oiled body builder because you did the work yourself. In addition, working on your own car creates a strange yet palpable bond between car and driver that can only be created when you spend time on your back having oil leaked onto your face, or scrubbing transmission fluid from under your finger nails. There's just nothing better than buckling in after you've just "fixed" your car, detailed it inside and out, and bought a full tank of gas: you feel like the world is your oyster, like you could go anywhere or do anything. Hell, you could just drive until you run out of gas and see where you end up: VROOM! I'm unstoppable! Oh...wait....I told my boyfriend that I would go pick up milk at the grocery store...damn.
No comments:
Post a Comment