I guess I'll use this space to rant about this topic. Yes, I used to have a car. She's a silver-blue '86 Camry that my mom bought when I was in first grade. She was the first new car my mom ever bought, and I think she made a good choice. She bought a new Camry in '96, when I turned sixteen, which, by the way, is the nicest car I've ever had the pleasure of riding in. Strap $15,000 to the dashboard, and you have a Lexus. But anyway, I drove the old Camry, Pretty Hate Machine (after Nine Inch Nails' debut album, which is awesome)until I went away to college last year, on my little sister's 16th birthday. So you can probably guess what happened to her (the Camry, not my sister). Yes she got two huge dents in it, running into the same garage behind the restaurant where we work, a garage around which I have managed to maneuver countless times without causing bodily harm to Pretty Hate Machine (which my sister so rudely calls "The Velvet Rocket!!!"). OK, I crashed her once and busted her right headlight, but it wasn't my fault, and the other lady's insurance paid for it all, and I felt terrible for putting her (the car) through all that. Gill showed not the slightest sign of regret for her thoughtless actions, having no respect for Pretty Hate Machine.    She's such a great car. First of all, she screams "MOM," so I never get pulled over in her, not even during the six months she had a busted headlight. She might as well have vanity plates that say "MOM, RN. "  Second, she's the most reliable car in the world, which is one of the reasons I felt bad when I crashed her, because she's not used to the shop at all. No, she's never broken down. She's got 150,000 miles on her, yes, she's "been around the black" a few times, rrhaha. She's never broken down. Third, I love her because she's idiot-proof. She doesn't just have that beeping noise when you don't fasten your seatbelt;  she turns the headlights and the dome light off when you leave the car, so you'd have to be worse than an idiot to run out the battery, which my sister did I might add. And you have to lock it from the outside, or else 1 door stays unlocked, so you can't lock your keys in her. She's the perfect car. Oh, and since she's so old and a 4-seater, she's cheap to insure.    Yes, I have a sort of sick emotional attachment to her, but she's just so awesome. She's like an heirloom, having been in the family long enough to serve two generations. I get to drive her whenever I go home, which is nice. It's hard to take her for granted when I don't get to see her that much. Oh, I forgot to add that We took our family Christmas card picture in front of, with me holding the keys out in front of my face. There was this really cute boy in high school named John King who drove the same car, except he had the windows tinted so that he could drive and be sketchy at the same time, I guess. Anyway, I thought he was cute, and the fact that he drove such an awesome yet practical was somehow really sexy to me. And this summer There was this guy named Jon who worked at the same restaurant I did back home who drove the exact same car, except his was more gray than blue. We somehow a big kick out of trying to park our cars next to each other, or opposite each other, or in some geometric configuration. What really kills about her is that every day when I pass by the UTC on the way to class there she is, parked right there, the exact same car, taunting me, torturing me. I miss my Ol' Girl. 

Big Five personality labels — Extraversion: n, Neuroticism: y, Agreeableness: n, Conscientiousness: y, Openness: y