I hate falling in love.

It is truly a dark day. I have done something I vowed to myself some months ago I would never do. I can blame it on the words of the people around me, or the things I can do because of it, but it is entirely my doing and there's no escaping that simple fact. I have fallen in love with that plucky little Toyota. I have found a friend in the heaving groaning mess of a machine, a car with more character than many people in this world. I can not deny that I have become attached in a profound way to this car that I shouldn't own in the first place. I cleaned the inside, I washed and waxed it. I'm fixing things that aren't necessary and it's starting to look better. It's getting it's second wind, rejuvenated and soon will be ready to kick some ass. But I can't treat it like a machine anymore...

My plans keep changing. I have a basic idea of what I want: a car that can do everything. But it's the method that I'm flip flopping on. Half of me wants to save up, drive her around the way she is, and eventually tear her down, paint her, and do a 1-JZ swap. She'd have, as near as makes no difference, 300 hp and 270 ft-lbs of torque. She would be the fastest car I own. She'd be insane and impressive and the apple of everyone's eye. But she wouldn't be MY car. The other half of me has gotten intensely accustomed to the 4-pot that's in her. It's snarly and spits and coughs. I feel like the chassis could handle being ludicrously quick, but that's not what I need in my life. I need fun, I need unique, I need myself. She may not be the strongest thing out there, she may not be the fastest, nor the smartest, nor impressively handsome, but she's determined and quirky. She is new belts, a new intake, fuel system, electrical system, and header from being twice as powerful. Yes she'll still be a bit of a pig, but she'll be a happy little high revving piggy with a smile on her snout and a friend behind the wheel.

So here's me being selfish. Here's me saying that I'm going to do what I damn well please and I don't want to hear what everyone else has to say. I'll build a monster when I have money. But until then, I'm starting my automotive family. I am and always will be smitten by the Aztec Red beauty that I'm identified by, but I have found room in my heart for the goofy little yota that sits just out my window as I type this.

...she broke down on me yesterday. I was driving back from Myrtle Beach. She ran fine for about an hour and a half, then lost power on the section of the highway with no shoulder. She stopped in the right hand lane in mid day traffic. It wasn't until I pleaded with the car to run that she nutted up and pushed herself, driving for about thirty feet on nothing but the starter until she finally spit smoke and fired. The car ran wide open with 99% of the fuel filter clogged. The car burnt the tire through 3 gears on nothing but will and fumes. She did that for me. I couldn't ask for more, especially considering that it's my own procrastination that allows this to happen. I need to clean and rebuild the fuel system. I want to do 4 side draft individual carbs, a cleaned and lined tank and steel lines with an electric fuel pump. Then she'll be properly fed.

It's become far too easy to be this way. I have some perplexing things going on in my life, some people I don't understand and situations that I'm too inept to read. But in spite of breaking down on me, I find her solid in the same way that I find Vanessa solid. These cars are my security blanket. This Celica is my new friend yet I feel like I've known her for years. She loves me, trying her hardest knowing that I will reciprocate that effort.

So much life from something made of steel and glass. If that's not magic, I don't know what is.