Lana is a good car. A reliable car. She is a ’98 Saturn with absurdly low miles on her odometer for her age. She’s purple, and small, and comfortable to drive. But, she also has her quirks. Little ones like the fact that the dome lights do not work, and when it’s cold outside the windows don’t like to roll down without much coaxing, and cooing. Bigger ones, like the ceiling full of mold from a leak in the sunroof, and the fact that the radio and tape deck do not work. Also, a ride in Lana in the winter is a cold ride, because the heater doesn’t really function properly, and a ride in her in the summer can be a bit warm, because the air conditioner can’t be on if you need to accelerate quickly.
But I love Lana. I do. She’s been a great car. One I can count on to start when I turn the key, and to get me where I need to go. She’s a good old girl.
That said, this was my reaction when I opened my Christmas present from my parents this year.
And this was the present.
Over the course of car shopping, I learned a few things about myself, and how well my mom and dad know me. At one point my dad told a car salesman that I would not have purchased a car for myself until my car quit, because I’m the saver. He’s not wrong. I don’t like to spend money on myself. It makes me uncomfortable. He also said something about how I hadn’t had it easy, and I deserved this. That I have minor problem with, because I don’t know if I deserve it just because things have been occasionally rough in the past. The truth is, I’m happy, safe, loved, and comfortable. However, I’m definitely okay with my parents believing that I deserve it, and helping me out. (BECAUSE NEW CAR! YAY!)
In the end, I found a car I love. I had a bit of money saved specifically for a new vehicle just in case Lana decided she was done with this life, so I was able to contribute to what my parents gave me, and I got something that should last me for quite a while. She’s pretty, blue, gets great gas mileage, hasn’t already been driven nearly into the ground, and wasn’t built in the ’90s (WHAT?!). Most importantly, she’s entirely mine. No payments necessary.
Anyhow, here is Jane.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for your help in finding her, and making her mine. I literally could not have done it without you. (And not just because I never would have picked a car, signed the papers, or been able to conquer the panic attack I had when spending that much money, if I’d been out shopping alone.) Love you both.