Meet La Luna
So, I wrecked my car three weeks ago tomorrow. The story is not particularly interesting--suffice it to say that no one was hurt (especially not the pedestrian who crossed against the light and caused everyone in front of me to stop abruptly before I oh-so-gingerly rear ended them). But my beloved, beloved Lumina was totalled by my insurance company.
I drove the Reinamobile for more than five years. She was the very first car I drove that belonged only to me and not any other member of my family. I got her the summer before my sophomore year in college and up until her untimely demise, she served me faithfully, humbly and well. I loved that car so much, I can't even tell you. I began predicting her demise about a year ago as I worried how I would get to Arizona--but she survived that trip just fine (a story which is chronicled on this blog somewhere). The most she'd ever asked from me was a new water pump and a new intake manifold gasket thingy, both expenses I gladly paid. I never dreamed she'd end in a collision at Highland and Sixth, in Tucson, Arizona. Never in a million years.
That car was more a part of my life than I am happy to admit--I don't like the American dependency on cars, I don't like my own dependency on personal vehicular transportation. But put me in a situation where I don't have a car and I get antsy, almost panicky. So it goes.
In the 70,000 miles we drove together, we made it to and through Wisconsin, Minnesota, Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Missouri, Iowa, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas, Texas, Arizona, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Kentucky, and probably a few other states I can't remember. I drove her back and forth between Denison and Madison, Madison and Chicago, to several weddings of dear friends, home to Madison on the night my grandfather died, to the beds of boys I won't mention, to the hospital over and over again when my dad was sick, to colleges to visit friends. Basically, a lot of my life happened and was possible because of that car.
Goodbye, sweet Reinamobile. Thanks a million for not breaking down in the New Mexican mountains.
So, yeah. At first I had a rental and then I didn't have a rental anymore because Progressive decided to total the Lumina. I rented over the past weekend and had settled on a 2004 Hyundai Accent with 26k miles, nothing terribly tricked out, but lots of warranty left. I was poised to purchase that car when I found out that the owner had recently refinanced and the new title hadn't been released by the DMV yet, much to both our surprise. I wasted a goodly amount of money on an inspection and time, precious time, planning to buy that Accent. I planned to name it El Rey (Spanish for the King) in honor of the Reinamobile and its masculine angles. But that all fell through.
Instead, I went to a dealership this morning, just three blocks south of my house and bought this:
She's a 2004 Nissan Sentra 1.8S with 19K miles and about a year of factory warranty left. She drives well, is in super great condition, has brand new tires and most of all, she's mine:
In continuing my tradition of fetishizing the Spanish language, I was stuck for a name for her. She is undoubtedly a her because of her sleek curves. Definitely not an El Rey by any stretch of the imagination. I've always adored the moon, but even more so since I moved to the desert. So, La Luna it is. Welcome to the family, Lunamobile. Glad you're here.
I drove the Reinamobile for more than five years. She was the very first car I drove that belonged only to me and not any other member of my family. I got her the summer before my sophomore year in college and up until her untimely demise, she served me faithfully, humbly and well. I loved that car so much, I can't even tell you. I began predicting her demise about a year ago as I worried how I would get to Arizona--but she survived that trip just fine (a story which is chronicled on this blog somewhere). The most she'd ever asked from me was a new water pump and a new intake manifold gasket thingy, both expenses I gladly paid. I never dreamed she'd end in a collision at Highland and Sixth, in Tucson, Arizona. Never in a million years.
That car was more a part of my life than I am happy to admit--I don't like the American dependency on cars, I don't like my own dependency on personal vehicular transportation. But put me in a situation where I don't have a car and I get antsy, almost panicky. So it goes.
In the 70,000 miles we drove together, we made it to and through Wisconsin, Minnesota, Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Missouri, Iowa, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas, Texas, Arizona, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Kentucky, and probably a few other states I can't remember. I drove her back and forth between Denison and Madison, Madison and Chicago, to several weddings of dear friends, home to Madison on the night my grandfather died, to the beds of boys I won't mention, to the hospital over and over again when my dad was sick, to colleges to visit friends. Basically, a lot of my life happened and was possible because of that car.
Goodbye, sweet Reinamobile. Thanks a million for not breaking down in the New Mexican mountains.
So, yeah. At first I had a rental and then I didn't have a rental anymore because Progressive decided to total the Lumina. I rented over the past weekend and had settled on a 2004 Hyundai Accent with 26k miles, nothing terribly tricked out, but lots of warranty left. I was poised to purchase that car when I found out that the owner had recently refinanced and the new title hadn't been released by the DMV yet, much to both our surprise. I wasted a goodly amount of money on an inspection and time, precious time, planning to buy that Accent. I planned to name it El Rey (Spanish for the King) in honor of the Reinamobile and its masculine angles. But that all fell through.
Instead, I went to a dealership this morning, just three blocks south of my house and bought this:
She's a 2004 Nissan Sentra 1.8S with 19K miles and about a year of factory warranty left. She drives well, is in super great condition, has brand new tires and most of all, she's mine:
In continuing my tradition of fetishizing the Spanish language, I was stuck for a name for her. She is undoubtedly a her because of her sleek curves. Definitely not an El Rey by any stretch of the imagination. I've always adored the moon, but even more so since I moved to the desert. So, La Luna it is. Welcome to the family, Lunamobile. Glad you're here.
posted by Alison Inaz @ 4:39 PM
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