My Poor Thea

Thea, being my car, of course.

I am seriously going to pack up all my stuff, sell anything unnecessary (including my poor baby) and move to New York...or somewhere else with public transportation that will allow me to never have to be behind the wheel of a car again. I don't deserve a car, and my poor Thea definitely does NOT need me as a driver. My first brand new car. My first car that is MINE...and what do I do? I got us pulled over back in June (although, I partially blame her and her super enthusiastic accelerator for that) and then today...I hit a pole.
A pole.
A pole that wasn't moving. A pole that I've been parking next to for the past four months. Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!! As much as I'd love to blame the pole for this, I can't. I wish I could blame the engineer who designed the parking structure...since I'm the only slot that has to park between two sets of poles. Our carports look like this:
|_ _|_|_ _| aka: set of poles, spot, spot, set of poles, my spot, set of poles, spot, spot, set of poles...given my propensity for disaster, it was really only a matter of time. But my baby. My less than a year old, new off the lot, my name on the registration baby...has a giant boo boo on the panel thingy between the bumper and the front passenger's side door. Which will need to be replaced. Which will cost me lots of money and leave me carless for some time.

We've been over my dislike for the southern part of California about a MILLION times, and I'm not even the biggest fan of driving...
Yep-I think it's time for me to wake up in the city that never sleeps!