Empowerment

I bought a car yesterday. Well no, not a car--a minivan. (The road I've traveled just to admit that I drive a minivan is fodder for another post.) All by myself. Me. Okay, Elliot did sing loudly in the nice man's carseat as I test-drove it. And Ethan did test the auto door buttons (and the sun roof, and the seat adjusters . . . ). But aside from an occasional panicked call for advice from my father, and the occasional call to my husband resulting in either a voicemail message like "I'm buying the car dear" or a response of "Do whatever you feel is best, I gotta go," I purchased a vehicle.

I've been involved in the purchase of exactly three (four now) vehicles in my lifetime and hope to be involved in no more than three more. Ever. You see, I select vehicles expressly hoping to maximize the amount of time before my next vehicle purchase. I expect this one should last until I'm roughly 45. The next until I'm 56. The final one at 67.

I hate to admit it, but unfortunately I am currently the owner of 2 minivans. One stinks, the other doesn't. I bought the stinky one a mere 18 months ago (with the intent to keep it until I was 44). It didn't stink then. As I am an individual that expects little more than point A to point B from my vehicles, I didn't think stink would ever drive me to sell a vehicle. If it did bother me, I figured I was up to the challenge of eradicating the stink. Three months and nearly $2000 later, I am ready to admit defeat. Did you hear that stinky minivan? I quit! YOU WIN!! YOU ARE STRONGER THAN I!! (in so many ways).

Did I mention I have a stinky minvan for sale? If you don't mind a little mildew, I have a deal for you . . .

Back to the purchase. Before I get too proud of myself, let's just say I have had much logistical help in the purchase such as rides to and from here and there and the wonderful people who agreed to drive my new minivan home from Georgia. But there is something very empowering about searching, researching, testing, and handing over a large sum of cash in exchange for a vehicle. There is a mystery about the process (just go to an auto dealer) and an innate fear (for me at least, and I believe for many women) about what seems to be a man's domain.

But the real credit here goes to craigslist. I'll save my ode to craigslist for another posting, but craig saved me much headache and protected me from those scary auto lots. Thanks craig.