Yaris and I in happier times, the day we met...
As every part of my life seems somehow tied to yoga these days, I thought I might share with you the story of Mr. Fancy Car, to whom I bid a tearful goodbye this week.
Those of you who have been in my little Toyota Yaris know that it is the opposite of a fancy car. The responsibility of the passenger in the front seat is to shout "LOCK YOUR DOORS!" (training buddy/roommate Kelly is still the champ at that particular role), you have to blast the heat for ten minutes before you feel a thing, there is no cruise control (which made my cross country drive a challenge), and even the windows have to be rolled up manually.
Oh yeah...high tech.
Nevertheless, I love my little car, and it has served me well. I took it in for its first official Pennsylvania inspection a few weeks ago and the mechanic said "usually I see an average of $500 worth of work for these, but all you needed was a little windshield wiper fluid."
A few days after that (as it turns out, weirdly prescient) statement, I came home late after my first Steelers game, and as there was no parking on my street, and I knew I'd be up to teach a 6am class (well before metered parking kicked in), I parked on desolate, empty Liberty Street.
Five hours later I walked back to my car to drive to the studio and saw this: