Fashioning the Body: Versions of the Citizen, the Self, and the Subject

    When I was a sophmore in high school, we had an arts assembly during which my friend, Pat a senior, read an essay he wrote about his Peugeot. He talked about his love for his car, in spite of the man things that were wrong with it. I was 16, but had delayed getting my license. Later that year, I was shocked to hear that Pat was selling his car. "I'll buy it!" I said. The Peugeot was famous in our school and it broke my heart to think of it going elsewhere. 

    So, That's how I ended up buying my first car for $650. I was pumped when I first got my license! I wanted to drive so bad! I got into my Peugeot and headed off down the street, only to get about 2 blocks away and brake down. this was the beginning of my journey with the Peugeot.

    It's funny how many flaws you can over-look when you really love something, and that car had sooooo many flaws. The back door didn't open, the cruise control was broken, when you turned it on it never turned off. The sun-roof leaked, the child window locks were stuck on, the trunk was rusting and leaky. The spare tire had to ride in the trunk because the thing that held it up was broken. The windshield wipers broke multiple times, actually, the whole car broke multiple times! But none of this mattered because I was the Peugeot driver!! Every part of the Peugeot was endearing to me. 

    One day, after getting my car back from the shop, again. I was heading off to my senior pictures and BAMMMMMM hit from behind and BAMMMMMM into the car infront. "How's my car?" I asked as I was loaded into the ambulance. "I'm affraid it didn't make it." After putting all my love into my Peugeot, it had returned the love by saving my life. Thank God old cars were made of tons of sturdy metal and big solid rubber bumpers.