Romancing California

The $2010 Challenge car progresses. There have been setbacks which require creativity to recover, but over all, it's still within my anticipated timeframe. The busted ignition cylinder turned out to include a shattered wiring harness, so we're replacing a $600 setup¹ with $20ish worth of rocker switches, a start button and a few feet of wire from my friend Chris' stash. Because everything is better with switches and buttons!

And when I say "we're replacing," I mean that Chris gets to be his usual Mad Scientist genius self and I get to play Evil Intern. I should find a sexy labcoat to wear!

Today's setback was the radiator - new car buddy Alan was drilling out the busted fan mount screws and accidently slipped into the bottom radiator tank. Fortunately, it should be an easy fix for someone who knows what they're doing!² If it's not repaired by the time we get the car running, I'll just pull the one out of the running GTX. Alan felt genuinely bad; to be fair, he's not the first to break something on the car, and I'm equally certain he won't be the last. :D

But today, I got to install the clutch cylinders, brake master cylinder and brake booster. Clutches are easier than I thought! Brake cylinder though? OMBG, that is pure punishment. I don't know what I did to the Universe, but boy-howdy has she gotten me back good!



Dear Universe:

May I never, ever do anything so unkind again that you make me do another brake job. I promise to be the Best Doll EVER if you will see clear to letting me get the second brake line threaded into the brake master cylinder.⁵

PROMISE!

Smoochies,
The Doll



¹ If I were foolish enough to buy it directly from Mazda...
² Unfortunately, I am not that someone.^3
3 Fortunately, I do know someone⁴ who can do it!
⁴ Unfortunately, that someone can't do it until after Burning Man.
⁵ These are apparently notoriously difficult to thread.

When I was twenty, I fell madly and deeply in love with a man twenty-eight years my senior. Overall, it was a great relationship, but as relationships - especially ones with such an age difference - sometimes do, it ended. At some point in the aftermath, Byron imparted this bit of wisdom to me:

This whole car project is starting to come together.  I have warehouse space from Big Art Studios in Oakland to put the car together and the car is in place.  I've started acquiring tools and putting the word out that I need A Lot of Help (TM) with the project.  I even an engine arriving later this week to go into the car.  With any luck, this car will be running by my birthday.  With a little more luck, it will even be drivable. :D

The twins.  The one on the right actually runs - but only because I bought it that way...

It may be a strange thing to say, but I'm glad I can dream small.  Thousands of home mechanics across America do this every weekend.  I know it can be done; it's a matter of doing it.  For me, it's a more exciting dream than stepping on the moon.  This one, at least, will come true.

Dear Mind:

Please to be making with the shutting down now.

Smoochies,
The Doll

***

Feeling generically out-of-sorts at the moment; lots of flux about. Life and work are changing and it's filled me with a nervous, detached energy that I'm not quite able to channel. On the cusp of finally getting my dead 1988 Mazda 323 GTX to a place where I can break it down, learn all kinds of neat things and hopefully get it running - fulfilling a lifetime dream. Work is alternately filled with necessary tedium¹ and exciting things and hurrying-up-and-waiting and trying to get all the duckies lined up so we can make the big changes whose timetables keep slipping because they honestly must. Getting to know a really neat person when I feel like I've lost all ability to communicate on a personal level. Watching him try to deal with losing his best feline friend of 17+ years to kidney failure and knowing exactly how that feels but too damn afraid to just reach out and hold his hand. Wondering when I learned to be afraid of holding someone's hand. Keenly feeling the brevity of life, both feline and human.

Fuck.  I hate this part right here, where every thing's up in the air and you just have to chill or give things time to see how they fall out.

On the upside, filling my life with really amazing people does not suck. Having a Pooka pressing her fuzzy little forehead to my lips for kisses is pretty sweet, too.

Speaking of which, my furry princess is demanding I re-attempt sleep. G'night (or g'morning).



¹ Editing copy on a Support video that had no script, thus I'm having to play-pause-type what's there-type what should be there-play. I can only take an hour of this. Each section's taking me 2-3 hours. There are four sections. I am going to beat the support engineers if I ever have to do this again. Seriously, why would you start writing an instructional video without a damn storyboard??

The beauty of being on the west coast is that there's a whole new part of the country for me to explore.  I had been charmed by Nevada (Lake Tahoe and Carson City to be specific) on previous occasions, so when friends suggested camping in the Nevada desert, I was open, but hesitant.  I'm an east coast girl, raised in the heat and humidity, the thick cover of green everywhere.  Try as I might, I couldn't wrap my mind around camping in the desert; it was outside my realm of experience.  The strangeness of it turned out to be its appeal.  Because I could not imagine it, I simply had to see it.

We went to Black Rock Desert, so named for the massive single black rock in the several hundred square miles. I was not expecting the desert to be so stunningly beautiful.

The black rock for which the desert is named

Camping as I knew it was a light-weight affair; grab a sleeping bag, maybe a tent, the basics for making fire and dinner, and a really good knife or multi-tool. Go find some clean water, strip a sapling for a fishing pole, and you're good to go. Camping in the desert, however, requires more thought. You must bring everything you will need with you; every ounce of water, every bite of food, every tool or garbage bag, rebar to stake tents that will otherwise be blown away with desert winds, a respirator and goggles to weather the sandstorms, light clothing for the heat of the day and warm clothing for freezing nights. You need to prepare to survive without the civilization known as the nearest gas station for the entirety of your time on the playa.

It takes a concerted effort to camp in the desert. But, you will be richly rewarded.

Sunset over the Black Rock Desert

A cloud with a rainbow promise

The almost-too-hot-hotsprings

My time spent exploring the desert and playas with friends was the reset I needed. I have wonderful people with whom to share my life. I have friends who will share with me wonders I had not before imagined.

The moment I set foot on the playa, California became home.

* Photographs courtesy of Pam Teasdale.

I have vague memories of my birth-father working on his cars when I was very small.  He also had a bad habit of buying a new car every year, trading in last year's toy.  I remember him buying my mother a mid-70s Plymouth Duster, which she drag-raced down Bell Road when our neighbor challenged her by telling her she couldn't handle a car that quick - she won, by the way, and is more likely the source of any competitiveness in my nature.  The Duster was quickly replaced with a '78 Mazda GLC (Great Little Car, though we called it "Glick"), which mom managed to hang on to for over ten years and probably spawned my ardent life-long love of Mazdas.

When that GLC died, I begged my mother and step-father to let me rebuild it.  They thought rebuilding a car was a "pipe dream" and the car went to the junkyard.  I was heartbroken.  Ever since, my dream has been to rebuild a car.  My theory has always been that I'm at least as smart as the guys who put the car together, I just lacked little things like a garage, tools, skill and experience.

Optimism, thy name is Carlota.

I now have a car shell, an engine, a radiator, and other extraneous parts to put together... but still no garage, tools, skill or experience.  I must constantly remind myself that of all the childhood dreams a person can have, this one can be achieved with relative ease.  At the moment, it is only patience and proper circumstance that I lack.

It can be so frustrating to know what you want and have it just outside of your reach.  I cannot blame California, but there are moments when I feel I have given up more to be here than I have gotten in return, or all that stands between me and the rest of my life is the fact that I am here at all.  In many ways, I'm just a little girl from Alabama trying to make good on some little girl dreams.  And then I remember:  One of those little Alabama girl dreams was to live in California.

So...one dream attained.  I have room for bigger dreams now.  Maybe even in California.
 

SG = Some Guy
TD = The Doll
Unk = Unknown (aka "What is wanted")

(SG*TD) + (SG*Unk)	= 0
(SG*TD)	= -(SG*Unk)
(SG*TD)/SG	= -(SG*Unk)/SG
TD	= -(Unk)

***

For those who aren't good at math, let me translate:

(SG*TD) + (SG*Unk) = 0
Base statement: (Some Guy has the Doll) and (Some Guy's unknown want) equals zero

(SG*TD) = -(SG*Unk)
Balancing the equation: (Some Guy has the Doll) is equal to not(Some Guy's unknown want)

(SG*TD)/SG = -(SG*Unk)/SG
Remove Some Guy from the equation

TD = -(Unk)
The Doll is not What is wanted

Seriously. Entire relationships can be boiled down with math. Why has it taken me to age 37 to figure this out? Next time I feel like my heart is being used as a yo-yo, or my friends say "he's just not that into you," or both, I will simply do the math. I can hear the conversation already:

The Doll: My friends have posited the theory that you're just not that into me. After doing the math, I must conclude they are correct.
Some Guy: Huh?!

I have never before been accused of being a calculating woman, and perhaps I will now run that risk, but this should make breaking up in the future much easier. I have never been able to trust my own heart, but science and math? They have yet to fail me.

I sold my Miata today.

It's strange to hold an inanimate object with the same affection as my cats, but I do. Just as Salem (rest his little kitty soul) and Pooka have provided me with nearly twenty years of warmth and comfort through good times and bad, the Miata provided ten years of joy and consolation. It was more than just a thing; it was long drives along windy North Carolina roads, my first sexual experience in a vehicle (let me just say that the roll bar is required for this to occur in a Miata), freedom from the stress of work and school, discovering the thrill of racing, the first big fight with the man who would be my husband and then ex-husband, making new friends and making friendly conversation with strangers. This common little car was as much a part of my identity as the color of my eyes, as much a part of my history as any of my dearest friends.

I spent years gradually upgrading it, setting it up to be just right for me, only to find the engine losing compression in all four cylinders. For those who don't know much about cars, this means rebuilding or replacing the engine, neither of which I have the skill or money to do right now. Spending a thousand dollars to ship it to California knowing that I'll be spending several thousand more to rebuild it was, quite simply, unwise. I didn't want to sell it, but it was the only practical solution, and I am - at my very core - a practical woman.

I left the Miata in North Carolina when I moved back to California...it was simply one less thing to deal with at the time. Despite being separated from the Miata for the last nine months, now that it is gone, I am bereft. I am also just a little relieved; so many of my North Carolina joys and sorrows are tied up with that car. It's as though I have given North Carolina its ring back and said, "I love you, but we are done. It's not you, it's me. There's this other state, you see..."

Fortunately, North Carolina is taking this all gracefully. Yes, we will still be good friends. Come back to me when you're ready. I'll always be here for you. One day, maybe I will. But for now, I will be Miata-less in California.

Good-bye, beloved friend. Thanks for the memories.

Walking my cat is remarkably Zen.  I am not a meditative or patient person by nature, and these walks have taught me much recently.

Almost a month since my last post!  Oh, my.  It's not that I've forgotten to blog - no, I've been so busy getting my romance on with California that I haven't had time!  So what has the Doll been up to lo these many weeks?  Making sweet, sweet love to South Bay.