Goodbye, Old Friend

"If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me." ~ Author Unknown

They came to take you away from me today. When I handed over the keys, I tucked my head and went into the house. I watched from the front window as you grew farther from me, red taillights growing dim in the cold fog, tears splashing down my cheeks. It all happened so fast -- I don't think I even told you good bye. So, goodbye, Old Friend. You were my first taste of freedom, my guardian angel, my warmth on cold nights.

Remember the night I wanted to run away? Wanted to get away from this world that I thought was so bad? You let me vent, you calmed my nerves, you took me home.

And the night Rusty and I ran from the cops? We were so freakin' scared that night, but we managed to get away. We still die laughing whenever we think about that night.

Remember when you helped move me up to college? If only I'd known then what I know now. Maybe we would have never gotten those parking tickets, or drove two hours to ogle over that hockey coach, or gotten that horrible job down the road at Tias.

And gosh, how many times did I skip Trig that one spring, just so we could go hit balls at the driving range and soak up some sunshine. I even found some old golf tees in the trunk the other day. Along with some dog treats from all the times we would stop to help stranded dogs along the side of the road. And I even found a few tapes from back in the day -- there's no telling what's on them.

Remember that night I was headed to Dallas to meet up with Carter? I was soo tired of the drama, of the games. We saw the sign for I-45 to Houston. And I took it. And we drove five hours to the beach, only stopping once for gas and snacks. We made it into Galveston a little before 3 in the morning, stopped at a gas station to refill and get some magazines, and then I sat in the empty I-Hop until just before sunrise. And remember? We hopped on the ferry just as the sun was beginning to rise, and the dolphins began to surface all around. I'll never forget the beach we found, where I sat for hours in the soft sand, the cold waves lapping at my toes, the smell of salt and sea helping me to see clearly for the first time in months. And then we turned around and drove home. I'll never forget that trip.

And I'll never forget you. There are soo many memories from the past nine years, it's hard to share them all. I know you'll have many more over the years to come. What's that old saying, "No road is too long with good company?" It's true. And the tears are starting to fall again.

So goodbye, Old Friend, goodbye.

A New Set o' Wheels

"Driving a brand new car feels like driving around in an open billfold with the dollars flapping by your ears as they fly out the window." ~ Grey Livingston

J and I have been in the market for a new vehicle for some time now. As we usually do, we started high with a fully loaded Yukon Denali, went low with a Kia, and ended up somewhere in the middle with a Toyota 4Runner 4x4. And, I must say, I love it. And J loves it too, which is amazing since it's been a squabble fest trying to compromise on a vehicle.

You see, I drive a little car. A '99 Ford Escort ZX2, to be exact. Sure, it's old. Sure, the 2-door model is unpractical for future kids. Sure, the timing belt is about to bust and it needs new back brakes. But it's paid for, gets awesome gas mileage and zips in and out of traffic Jeff Gordon-style (okay, not as fast, but still ...).

J, on the other hand, drives an '05 Ford F-150 that barely fits in the garage. It's great for hauling the boat, going camping and driving the dogs around. That, and I think J believes *beating on chest* real men drive trucks. But he's also got a company car to drive for work and that we can use for personal use.

So several months and tears later, our little 4Runner was born. Er, okay, picked off the lot and severely haggled over. But I must be honest -- I feel a smidge guilty picking Toyota over Ford or GMC considering the bailout crisis that's currently paying CNN's light bill. Both my parents drive Fords, both of J's parents drive Fords ... it just seems American.

Perhaps that's silly. Perhaps I'll be tarred and feathered. Perhaps I'll get high fives for not supporting another company with poor financial facets. But, either way, it's the end of an era for me -- I'll be selling my little Escort this month after nine years of companionship.

Ahhh, the memories ...

A Whole Latte Luxury

“The car has become a secular sanctuary for the individual, his shrine to the self, his mobile Walden Pond” ~ Edward McDonagh


The cars sitting outside Starbucks this morning: new Mercedes, BMW convertible, Nissan Z, Hummer H2, Audi, Corvette ... and J's old Ford pickup that I decided to drive today.

Let's consider the "Latte Factor" here -- even if I saved the six bucks I spent at Starbucks this morning and stashed it in a high-interest account over the course of my lifetime, not really sure I'd ever reach the caliber of the other vehicles in the parking lot.

But would I even want to?* Sure, expensive cars are beautiful in their own right. J and I are looking to buy a new SUV in the near future, so we test drove a completely decked out Yukon Denali last month -- it's okay to dream. Because everyone is desperate to sell SUVs right now, the dealership let us take it home for the weekend. After crunching the numbers we had no real intention of purchasing it, but we thought what the heck, let's take the darling home.

I melted into the ebony leather seats, cruising around with the sun roof open, the satellite radio blasting some funky urban jazz. It winked at me from the driveway every time I looked out the window. It purred as I ran my hand down it's Birch Metallic and chrome body. I felt dirty driving it, and it's overzealous V8 roared as I accelerated at stoplights, turning heads. That's right boys, look at me.

So ruggedly sexy, I thought. But that annoying little voice inside my head began to buzz and reality (eventually) set in. No, I don't really need fancy GPS, heated leather seats, third row seating, DVD player and $55k worth of gas-guzzling bells and whistles. I just need something to haul the dogs, future kids and flowers from Home Depot.

But it sure is nice to dream.


*Kudos to those of you who are able to have expensive things. Adopt me. Seriously.

Have HOAs Gone Mad?

There's a storm brewing in my town that has nothing to do with the looming hurricane. In a neighborhood close to mine, the HOA is dictating what type of vehicle you can keep on your driveway and which must be parked in your garage. (Read the full story here.)

Are you kidding me?

Sure, I would agree to a few limitations: cars propped up on blocks, cars that haven't moved since before your grandma was born, and other typical HOA tacky stuff.

But to actually limit the brand that can be parked on your driveway? Are you kidding me?

First off, we're in Texas. I grew up around the city and drove a small car -- but hubby grew up on a dairy farm and has always owned trucks. Not the fancy-dancy kind, the get-the-job-done-last-forever-Ford-Chevy types. He owns a really nice 4-door F150 now. Sure, we're looking to trade in my car and his truck for a smaller classy-yet-rugged SUV that I can handle better than a truck (I once got his truck stuck in a parking garage in downtown Dallas ... you do the math).

BUT, if anyone ever came to my door and said, "I'm sorry, but your ... ahem ... Ford must be parked in the garage because the neighbors are tired of looking at your ... ahem ... Ford and it's bringing down the value of the neighborhood," I would give the neighbors something to really talk about. (Hmmm, pink flamingos come to mind ...)

How can an HOA regulate what car you drive and park on the driveway? They aren't providing my salary, or feeding my family, or paying my mortgage ... what if I couldn't afford to buy one of the cars on the "list"? (By the way, Chevy Avalanches are on the "good list" -- since when is an Avalanche a luxury vehicle?)

I know our F150 right now barely even fits in our garage, and we have a pretty big house. So, if HOAs are going to start forcing us rednecks to park our unsightly *cringe* Fords in the garage, then pressure the builders to make the garages big enough.

We moved from our last house to get out of the "rat race" of Frisco, where every soccer mom drove a $60k SUV, 13-yr-old kids at the mall carried Coach purses and 16-yr-olds cried in Nordstrom when mommy wouldn't buy them a pair of Uggs (at which mommy would give in because everybody has them) ...

Why the hell is it following us?