Or: "The Saga of My Car Trying to Make Me Lose My Goddamn Mind." (And, apparently, sapping my desire to blog.)
Ok, so I mentioned last time that my car was having transmission issues, right? Which sucked ass. So I found out eventually that getting the transmission rebuilt would be the cheapest option, at the bargain price of $1300. Bah. So through a divine intervention (read: startlingly large loan from someone who was very kind, and who had no reason to help me, thank you, good Karma I've managed to amass!) I was able to get that done. The car place that rebuilt the transmission does very good work, but they're also quite slow. So it took ten days from the time they got my car to have it ready for me, which was already two and a half weeks after it already died. Bumming rides is actually terribly degrading after a while, or at least very frustrating.
So, last Thursday, they finally called and said it was all done and I could come get my car, and so I did, with much triumph. And Friday, I triumphantly drove my car into work, where it triumphantly began spewing white smoke and the temperature guage shot up to high. My direct quote? "Oh, you mother fucker." (Pardon my French.) An hour and a half later, I drove my "cooled off" car down to the car place, where it proceeded to overheat again, and then froze up and would not start. BLEH. The nice car guys picked me up and drove me home, where they told me that my radiator had a hole in it, that likely was started back when I rear-ended that dude on the shitty birthday of doom. So much for having my car for that weekend.
But Monday evening, they called again. You're all set, come get your car, that'll be a hundred bucks. Tuesday morning? Car wouldn't start. Lovely car place? Jumped it, and after letting it charge/warm up for a few minutes, I drove myself to school, where the battery proceeded to die again. I called my dad, cussing a blue streak, and ready to Thelma and Louise my freaking car off the nearest available cliff, and was informed that it would most likely be an alternator. GAH. So at that point, I had the car towed to the other garage I use. The good news? The car was fixed in six hours. The bad news? $300.
Mind you, I paid $3000 for the car, which I do love. But if anything else breaks on it? I'm giving that bitch the Mythbusters treatment.
And the icing on the crap cake? I've been driving with a suspended license (I know, I suck) for an unpaid (so they say) ticket for... well, way too long. So no license, expired plates, every time I saw a cop car, I'd basically say a Hail Mary and hope for the best. This morning, a mile and a half from school? Pulled over by a cop. I was practically crying before he could even get to the car. But the cop was actually really nice, gave me the cheapest ticket he was allowed to do, just for the expired plates, and totally gave me the giant kick in the ass to get to the BMV and get stuff straightened out. So at the other end of the story, I emerge triumphant, with a running car with valid plates and a valid license, and all's well that ends well. Expensively, but well.
But I'm going to a b&b tomorrow with Jon, so that makes up for most of it. Well, if not, I'll at least forget it for a few hours!