the beautiful, black, slightly in need of a wash Honda Civic that is my constant companion has been injured.

it's a funny story. sort of. Amanda and i had just finished used car shopping for her and i was driving her home when traffic in front of us came to a sudden stop. i broke hard and stopped without the slightest of skids. having just heard my sermon on the goodness of anti-lock brakes, she turned to me to laugh about how she got my point. i, on the other hand, knowing my fellow Bay Area driver far too well, was staring in my rear view mirror to see who was or wasn't going to stop in time. i saw the red Nissan coming. she was going maybe 45 and, in her words, trying to get over. then i guess she saw me, stood on her non-anti-lock brakes and slammed into the back of me in a cloud of burnt tire.

i'm ok. sore and probably more so tomorrow. Amanda is complaining of neck pain, most likely because she had her head turned to me, not expecting the crash when we were hit. but the car got the worst of it. the bumper cover is gone, the bumper is tucked neatly under the trunk which won't close, and the driver's side is buckled, paint peeling from its surface.

i suppose it was only a matter of time before someone marred my beautiful Civic, though. i drive enough. and people are so clumsy about driving. their heads elsewhere, forgetting their common sense on the curbs where they last parked their cars, driving down the wrong side of the freeway on two wheels with their blinkers on for miles and crawling at just under the speed limit in the fast lane.