I need a car. I have forced the limits of car-less-ness and the universe has pushed back. I have not owned/leased my own vehicle since some time in 2002. When I moved to Ireland, I guess I assumed I would come back rich and famous or move to some utopia where one could exist sans car. I was wrong.
For the last year--until the move Down South--I borrowed a very nice, very sporty Toyota Celica from my mother's best friend. That was nice. So nice, in fact, that I don't want to shatter my dream and face the facts that I will need to bite the bullet and get a car suitable to my income (i.e. cheap). Also, I'm afraid of car dealerships. I mean, among my list of fears (which include animals dressed as people, Ted Danson, frogs, clowns and Japanimation) it ranks pretty low, but I just hate the idea of getting swindled. Even the possibility of getting a bad deal. The last car I leased, my dad accompanied me for protection. This time, I have no safety net. Indeed, Daryl is a man and in his role as my boyfriend, he should be a perfectly acceptable companion to ward off bad salesmanship. However, being that he doesn't drive, is not from this country, and his knowledge of American Car Salesman is limited to Edward H. Macy's spineless character in "Fargo," I'm not sure he will be much assistance.
This is what I want: Something affordable, no down payment, good gas mileage, and a low APR. I see the commercials. I see the advertisements. I don't want to own. I want to lease. I don't care about trade-ins. I don't really even care what the car looks like. This is giving me a headache already and I haven't even left my apartment.
Also, I am having a problem with cash flow. As in, there is no flow. Sporadic sprinkler-like activity is more like it. I am too old for this retardation. Since circa 1997, I have not been able to save up more than $400/month. I'm not sure what economy I'm living in which that amount is acceptable. Maybe I am still stuck in 1997. Yet, I'm shallow and like material things. I like clothes and vacations and drinking. I am so stuck with the mentality of my 22-year-old self it is just bordering on "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" In fact, someone probably will find me one day boarded up in a house wearing Steve Madden clunky-heeled shoes, listening to Radiohead and muttering about dot.coms. And, whatever else was going on in 1997. . .
I want my gossip! - 2005-08-17
Goodbye, BGT! - 2005-08-08
hell hath no fury like a awriting workshop - 2005-08-01
My Love Don't Cost a Thing - 2005-07-14
Kiss My Grits! - 2005-07-06
