Celicia (Sa-Lee-Sha) lives. Yes, my
car is named Celicia. She’s tiny and white, but she’s got more attitude than
any car in Santa Barbara. Celicia was called Air Panther from the time that she
came into my hands, but a trip down the CA-101 brought her a new name. It only
felt right to let my mocking friends call her another endearing name; after
all, I knew they would come to love her as much as I do. My recent breakdown/stranded
adventure began three blocks from a towing company, and four blocks from a
service center. Somehow life’s hardships tend to fall together well for my
family. Only a member of our family would get in a minor not-at fault accident
and get handed $400 two days before breaking down. Not only did I introduce my
friends to a real side of the road breakdown in this adventure, but it would be
shockingly normal to get towed and repaired without at least one strange
hiccup.
They lost my car. I was towed from
a not-so-clean neighborhood street around 6:30pm, handing the tow truck driver
my key, (that only works for the driver’s side door, not the passenger door or
the trunk), I instructed him to drop it off at Big-O Tires and Service Center.
I spoke with Big-O when I broke down, and they were aware that my car was
coming after hours. I woke up as early as a college student can and called
Big-O only to be told that they had no Toyota Celica. Naturally I updated my
Facebook status before angrily calling the two truck company. A snarky,
expressionless woman accidentally hung up on me after saying she would have to
call me back. After thirty minutes, I called her back; patience is one of the
many virtues I lack. Celicia arrived at Big-O around 10am after a drawn out scare.
I suppose this is how my parents felt all those nights I forgot to call and
showed up hours after I should have. Celicia must have needed to break free
from the constraints of a private Christian college.
A name says so much about someone.
Celicia’s name informs all riders that she is sassy, but wise. Occasionally I
meet a cute guy, but his name is something like Dick; you overhear a parent
call to his or her child, “Apple! Come over here please!” I live in a suite in
the dorms where six girls should live, but only five in ours. I am one of the
lucky few to live without a roommate for a semester. In my suite there are
there Chelseas including myself. I have not met very many Chelseas in my age
range, and somehow in our little three-room area, there are three of us. When
someone comes in yelling at 1/3 of us and we all open our doors and respond. I
think I lost a little bit of individuality when I moved in this semester.
What does a name mean? The word
that gets your attention easiest, is usually the first word you learn to spell
and write, and the word that your parents so carefully picked out to scream for
18+ years whether they intended to have a child or not. Some are never at peace
with the name they were given, feeling as though it does not suit their
personality. Some love their name so much that it gets doodled all over
everything in sight. When I was growing up, I felt Chelsea did not suit my
tomboy nature. I liked to wrestle, play football, and wear big t-shirts.
Although I still don’t have much of a style, somehow I grew into a relatively
feminine name.
A name does not determine an
identity. Women today have lost identity. I watch friend after friend lose the
passionate identity they have in men, in drugs and alcohol, and in the search for
“happiness” in a broken world. Composing an identity is a key to confidence and
standing firm in all that life delivers. It is when an identity is founded in
unstable and unreliable aspects when one searches for life in all the wrong,
destructive places. An identity is free from situations and people. An identity
can be stood on when the world around you is shaken by the inconsistencies of
life. It can be composed aspects such as religion, passions, inner drive, or
personal stability. Compose it.
Find your passions; find humor in
the worst of situations, and all that really matters is the next breath.
Mathew 7:24-27
