Part 14: Good Things Come in Small Packages

I'm telling ya. It ain't gonna fit.

I’m tellin’ ya. It ain’t gonna fit.

The Bonneville was a pain in the butt to park. It was like trying to fit an ocean liner into a dingy slip. A single space wasn’t big enough to hold it, and I often found myself fielding sarcastic asides from other drivers in the lot.

Don't hornswaggle me, you scallywag!

Don’t hornswaggle me, you scallywag!

But, seriously, until I regained title to my Justy, I believed was stuck with it.

My resigned acceptance rapidly turned to indignation, however, when the transmission abruptly stopped shifting into “reverse.”

This was a major problem. The world (or, at least, my navel-gazing little world) could not operate without “reverse.”

For instance, WWBD (what would a belly dancer do) without “reverse”?

So I dumped it. Bonne-voyage, I intoned — all the way to the demolition yard.

Oh my, Mr. Bonneville, look how you’ve changed!

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hahahahhahahhaha

With the Bonneville out of my life, my luck began to change. My divorce had been finalized, and, once again, the Justy was mine!

I had found a day job in a law firm and was teaching college two nights a week, which left no time for cruising the online personals. On weekends, I was busy making art for a solo exhibition I had scheduled for the fall.

“We have art so we shall not die of reality,” as Nietzsche once said. He knew.

It took a couple of years for me to relax my defenses and return to the personal ads. This time, though, I placed my own ad. Doing so gave me the (perhaps, false) illusion of control. I didn’t want to be wasting precious time trying to measure up to some psycho freak

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who collected empty beer bottles and lived with his mother (N.B.: it was the early 90s — nobody even uploaded photos back then). Besides, I had my own neuroses to manage.

Anyway, it was during this particular online excursion that I would meet JC, my current husband. The problem was, when his email appeared in my inbox, I’d assumed he lived in New York. The reality was, he lived 3,000 miles away.

If our nascent acquaintanceship was to go anywhere, one of us would definitely have to move — meaning me, since he had two kids and all I had was the Justy.

“A change of scenery might be good for her,” or so goes a line from a favorite movie of mine, Crossing Delancey:

.

Indeed.

What I Was Reading: Thinking Out Loud (Quindlen), Girl Interrupted (Kaysen), Stones for Ibarra (Doerr), The Bluest Eye (Morrison), Revolution From Within (Steinem), Simple Passion (Ernaux), Moon Palace (Auster), The Invention of Solitude (Auster), The Drama of the Gift Child (Miller), Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (Suzuki), The Tao of Physics (Capra), Synchronicity (Jung), Elvis Rising – Stories on The King (Misc. Writers), Heat and Dust (Jhabvala), A Natural History of the Senses (Ackerman), Intoxicated by My Illness (Broyard), Kafka Was The Rage (Broyard).

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