I need a new car.  Damnit.  My grandfather finally came down with his mechanic friend and fixed the problem with my car- the spark plug blew, and the heating coil that goes around it was all stripped so they both had to be replaced.  His friend did it as a favor, WINNING.  So my cousin and I decide to go to walmart to get junk food (that I won’t be eating) for tomorrow.  On our way to walmart, I notice that it is having trouble accelerating.  Joy.  Then my check engine light starts to blink;  Fuck.  It’s never blinked before.  I turn down the music, no weird noises.  I turned off the heat, still sounds good so I write it off.  Then we stop at a red light and my entire car starts shaking like it is having a petite mal seizure (for those who did not take child growth and development classes, it’s like a bad, continuous twitch- not like a stereotypical seizure where people are thrashing.  That, my friends, is called a grande mal seizure).  YIPPEE.  At that point, I start to freak out.  If I was alone, I would keep driving, no problem but my cousin was in the car.  I don’t care if I get hurt, but I will not be responsible for anyone’s safety so I backtrack, go back home, and get my grandfathers van.  My car smells when I step out, and smells like gasoline when I put the air on.  Transmission problem, says my aunt. 

I paid $1850 for this car.  I have had it less than a year, and only have been driving it for a couple of months because I only just got my license a few months ago.  Since I have started driving it, I probably have put another four hundred dollars into getting it fixed/looked at.  Too much money, and I have no more to pump into it.  I want to go to the bank and 1). ask them if they will lower my interest rate on my credit card, and 2). inquire about my chances of getting a small car loan so I can get a car that won’t blow up in the first few months it’s being driven.  >.<

I’m never going to be able to afford to leave this fucking state.