The Turtle Rabbit

I hate toy story. Do you realize what that franchise did to kids? It made them think their toys were alive. Doesn’t sound so bad, and when you watch it as an adult, or even a teen, you can easily distinguish the difference.. Now don’t misunderstand. I love the movies. I think they’re great. Buzz and Woodie are some of my favorite characters.. But still.. Goddamnit Woody.

Today I got my new car. It’s amazing. To be upgraded to a car with working air conditioning, working power steering, AND a working transmission? That made my day. It made my week. Hell, it made my year. Especially when you learn that my Aunt donated this car to me. This car cost me $46 and some change, total, and only because of fees at the DMV. But my old car…

Kitty was a 1997 Mercury Cougar. She had two doors, a rebuilt transmission, windows that didn’t work, and no power steering. The seats were partially leather, and where they weren’t cracked and faded, they were intact just enough to burn the hell out of your legs on a hot day. She had seen more than her share of dings before I got her, and went through tires like they were fucking cheerios. There was a five month stretch where I replaced at least two tires a month, until I finally broke down and bought a whole new set.

Kitty was my first car. She wasn’t pretty. She didn’t run well, and I was half cooked by the time I got to work most days. Near the end, her transmission gave more than its share of problems, and more often than not, I’d be making the thirty minute drive to work, going twenty miles an hour, in one hundred degree heat. It. Sucked.

There were so many days when I hated that car. So many times I wanted to take a sledgehammer to it. …But you know what?

I cried today.

Toy Story is, and has always been one of my favorite movies. In it, children’s toys are exposed to have a life completely of their own, and a deep love for their ‘child.’ They know their purpose, and even as limp as they may be in the child’s hands, the spirit’s there. Anyone whose ever hugged a teddy, or found a toy lost for ages knows the feeling. As inanimate as they are, they somehow become our friends, our confidants.Now I know I’m a terribly sentimental person about my things. And I give the Toy Story movies a bit of blame for this.

In that moment, when I was almost home, almost finished with my last drive with Kitty, I cried. My friend. She was old, breaking down. I’m more than sure that she’s quite ready for the big rust. But every day, every time I needed her, she was there. It might have been slower than I liked, hotter than I liked, and harder to turn than I liked. Still, she was there. How many people can you name, right now, that would do the same? Think about it for a second.

I can’t speak for you, but for me? Not many. As sad as it sounds, my car has been more reliable, and more dependable, than even my parents.

I watched ToyStory a lot as a kid. It was a fun movie. It kept my attention. And I never realized it before, but it taught me something too. Toys, or cars, as it were, give you their all. They quite literally don’t know how not to. Every day. Every time. Unwaveringly, they do their best to fulfill their purpose, and make our lives so much easier. Maybe it’s just me, but because of that, I think they deserve something in return. A little bit of love, and respect does wonders for anything.

Today, I didn’t cry because I got a new car. I cried for a friend who’d helped me to the full extent of her abilities, and I’ll always owe her for that.

….Now lets get that rust bucket to the junk yard. (Just Joking)

I’m so Sorry guys. I didn’t know this theme made me type in caps o_o

Switching themes now.

Fixed.

It’s far from a secret that I’m a Portal fan. I love the game; I love the characters. For those of you who don’t know it, the premise is rather absurd. You play a character locked in a scientific testing facility, who is forced into a series of ‘tests’ designed by a homicidal super computer. Not quite something you think would have parallels in real life, right?

Today I at work, I was visited by two people. One of which is a dear and long time friend, we’ll call him Taylor. The other is quite the opposite, though I have known her just about as long. We’ll call her Alisha. I’m sure we’ve all had our share of bad friends, but when I tell you that Alisha was the worst kind, I mean it. I never quite had friends when I was younger. I never really excelled at meeting new people, and rather often preferred the company of a good book, or a video game, to people. Somewhere along my wonderful journey through those hellish pubescent years, Alisha and I met, and became friends. We had quite a falling out, that I won’t get too far into. Lets just say that I was intentionally hurt, for no other purpose than her amusement, and blamed for just about everything she did wrong. Perhaps it was just a parent’s natural instinct to shift blame away from their child, but how in the hell was I supposed to be the cause of her lashing out at her mother, and tearing up their couch with a knife? Needless to say, I didn’t want anything to do with the girl after that.

She’s been trying to make contact over the years, seven years, to be exact. Each and every time, my answer has been the same. I don’t like you. I don’t care about you. Go away.

Tonight, I would get a visit at work. Taylor, my longtime friend, showed up… With Alisha in tow. All I could think about was how he knows better. He knows exactly what the girl did to me. He knows I don’t want to her to be anywhere near me. I still don’t understand what train of thinking brought him to think this was a good idea. Being at work, I was polite enough for some conversation, focusing my attention on Taylor, doing my best to keep myself from blowing my top.  As far as I was concerned, I wanted nothing to do with her, and she might as well have not been there. This didn’t seem to please Alisha much, the girl got huffy about my blatant disregard for her overall existance. It was only when she came to buy a pack of pens that I even bothered to look at her. She’d gained quite a bit of weight, and that crook in her nose certainly hasn’t gotten any straighter.  Did I mention she’s adopted?

Somewhere along this line of thought, something dawned on me. She’s gained weight. She’s mute (as far as I’m concerned). Even her complexion and her hair are a ringer for Chell’s. While one part of me was relentlessly tossing snarky remarks about her weight, her lack of speaking too me, and her being adopted, a song Popped into my head.

”..Well here we are again.

It’s all ways such a pleasure.

Remember when You tried to Kill me Twice?

Oh how we laughed and laughed,

Except I wasn’t laughing.

Under the circumstances, I’ve been shockingly nice…”

The girl has turned me into GLaDOS. And she’s Chell. I never even cared for Glados. Especially not after she called me fat. But in that one moment, I understood. It felt rather nice to set her teeth on edge, as I ignored her completely. …I wasn’t Mad.. I wasn’t flustered.. There was just…Some odd, cruel satisfaction in reinforcing what I’d told her a thousand times, and watching her squirm under it. Part of me wishes I could say it goes against my personality, but we all know I’m a bit too off center for that. GLaDos, I understand. If you were real, I’d shake your hand. I know what you’re going through, in a manner. The girl destroyed me for her own amusement, told me she was suicidal, and going to kill herself. I wonder if she was laughing while I was crying myself to sleep. She told me that she had lied, and then, with no logical defense, she simply had refused to Apologize.

She’s put me through so much hell, it was worth me accepting her apology, and telling her just to go the hell away so I didn’t have to deal with it anymore. Which  I did. Months ago. And tonight, she shows up at my work. Maybe I’ve been going about it all wrong. Perhaps I shouldn’t just push her away.. Maybe.. Just maybe.. Some testing is in order. Perhaps if I put her through that for a year or two, she’ll finally leave.

After all, Now, I only want her gone.