fearlesstemp | dreams, righteousness, history: automotive

.i. automotive dreams

Last night I had a dream that the first floor of my house was a used car showroom - I accepted this completely, as you do in dreams, mostly because the centerpiece of the showroom was a new car for yours truly. It was powder blue and beautiful, with a retractable roof and two doors. Very sporty. I loved it to pieces, and actually, truly believed I had a new car long after I woke up. At odd points today, I found myself thinking, "Wow, you know what's really awesome about my new car? I can listen to CDs in it! No more desperate abuse of the radio seek button for me! I better go downstairs and get - wait, no, there's no rotating floor in the dining room. Damn you, subconscious!"

I really want my powder blue, two-door, CD-playin' car!

.ii. automotive righteousness

This is the kind of friends we are: When standing in the cold bookstore parking lot last night, I didn't have to interrupt what I was saying to tell Annie the keys were coming before I tossed them to her, standing on the other side of the car. She caught them in one hand.

This is the kind of friends we are part two: Once we got into the car, and she finished whatever she said in response to what I had said before, she put on her seat belt and said: That thing with the keys, it was pretty cool, wasn't it?

And I said, Totally! I didn't even have to say -

And she said, I know! And I caught them one-handed!

It was pretty cool.

.iii. automotive history

Annie had been dropped off at the bookstore by her boyfriend on his way to her mother's house, where the two of them were spending the night before he went to a woodworking class in the area. I had to drive Annie to her mother's house, taking the same route we did when we would go hang out at her house after school. I hadn't been out that way in years, and almost missed a turn because they changed a flashing yellow light to a hard core regular stoplight, and we spent part of the drive talking about things like that, how long it's been since: she moved away, I graduated from college, we both met in high school. The rest of the drive, we sang along to Delilah's radio show, and talked about current life crises (hers and mine), past misadventures (mostly the ones we shared: such as all the times we raced each other to her house on the same highway we drove last night, going as much as thirty miles above the speed limit, in broad daylight), and the merits of our old cars (her Pontiac Bonneville, my Chevy Lumina).

Good times.