Winters 1 Hypertext Assignment

The wind was whipping through my hair, causing it to blow frantically across my face until I could almost no longer see. I decided that this probably wasnt safe, and debated whether to roll up the windows or pull my hair back. Choosing the latter, I pulled over to pile my hair on top of my head into a messy ponytail, and then got back to the road. Thats when the light came on, and I heard the relentless dreaded beeping. I drive a 2001 Volkswagen Passat that I hated the first time it pulled into my driveway. Anything without dually wheels and a big bed was not on my list of things I wanted to drive. As I practiced with the car however and learned its little quirks and special talents, I grew attached. It helped me pass my drivers test on the first try, and drove me the 45 miles to work at Texas Roadhouse everyday during the summer. And then there was this trip that my car had to manage once every few months. . . I am now a freshman in college at a school in Charlotte, North Carolina. My home, however, is in Columbus, Ohio, and my poor car can barely handle the drive every time I visit. This time, I was on my way back to Queens University, and I had just gotten my car fresh out of the shop before I started my way back. I was excited not to have any braking trouble that I had been experiencing recently, until this beeping started. I tried to turn the music up louder, but my dash was blinking with a whole fresh new set if decorative lights warning me to stop. I considered just stuffing a sweatshirt up there to cover them, but after contemplating the consequences that could occur I made the wise choice not to. My car, however faithful it may be, has not had the best track record since I bought it when I was 15. Now, three years later, I have debated on contacting the Guinness Book of World Records just to put my car up for nomination of times in the shop.

Winters 2 Hypertext Assignment

So after throwing the idea of the sweatshirt in my mental wastebasket I dug around in my passenger seat looking for my cell phone. Of course my hand emerged out of the pile of rubble with nothing, and I assumed it was a sign that my mom did not need to deal with this issue right now and it prevented me from calling her. I drove the remainder of the trip tensed up listening for any unusual sounds (other than the insensate beeps) and feeling for any currents that were not typical for my car. After several back spasms and butt cramps, I finally made it back to Charlotte. I parked my car and got out to examine the damage. My bumper was still attached, no fluid was spewing from anywhere, and it did not burst into flames before my eyes. Deciding this was good enough, I started unloading the car. The best part about my car is that it is foreign so any words that come up upon the dash are in German. After unloading my laptop and Googling what the words said, I discovered it was telling me the whole time my hand brake was on. I knew this wasnt true, but played around with it just in case. When I tried to lift the brake up, I realized it was sopping wet. Apparently, my car isnt fish waterproof, and doesnt like it when my travel case spills all over the brake. I didnt know whether to laugh or cry, but after much deliberation chose to pick neither and just make a mental note to put my betta somewhere else next time I travel.