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Farewell Joan Jetta

I did it!


I was able to turn in my car early for a nominal fee. Like it was WELL below what I was hoping to pay. Like when he told me the price I said yes so fast I think it surprised him.


And I said it so fast because I did not want him to change his mind.


That just helped out my financial situation. By a lot. Not that I am in dire financial straits, I just have a lot of big ticket purchases next year. And this house is sometimes a bit of a money pit.


And I am so happy about it. Relieved. I didn't even realize exactly what that car meant to me.


That car was a lasting reminder of my world crashing around me.


That car was a lasting reminder of the car I once had. I couldn't look at that car without wishing it was my #PinkBeetle convertible.


I'll never forget you Pinky Tuscadero.


The day I turned in Pinky, and got Joan, was the day I found out that the reason my husband didn't love me, want me, or care about me anymore...was because he was in love with someone else.


AKA fucking the French Whore.


I lost count of the number of times I cried in that car.


I sat in that car while talking on the phone with Julie from Japan? Was it Germany? At any rate, she called me to check in on me and I happened to be in the car when she called and I just sat there and cried with her on the phone for a long time.


That's the car I was in when I drove away from the life I loved forever.


It's the car I drove to my divorce in, and the one I cried in all the way home from Austin afterwards.

But she is also the car I drove to dinner that same night, where I was surrounded by wonderful friends so I didn't have to be alone on one of the worst days of my life.


And she also took me to my first date with Rob which is two years ago tomorrow so it wasn't all bad.


Did I mention I hardly drove her? Less than 11,000 miles in 2.5 years. #Zachborrowedher

She was a good car. She did what I needed her to do. She helped lower my monthly expenses at the time and she got me where I needed to go. She tried to be sporty with her bright red paint job and her sunroof, but she was never going to replace Pinky.


We just never quite fit.


I don't regret giving up Pinky. It was the right decision at the time. I had to be smarter about where my money went. And frankly I probably would have hated any car I got at that point.


Is this post a little over dramatic? Maybe. Have we met?


But this is all true. These are all the thoughts and feelings that were tied up with that car and I can't help but feel a level of relief that is - admittedly - deeper than expected.


It's the last reminder of my former life. And while it wasn't something I constantly thought about - because I rarely drive anymore - it was still there. In the garage.


So that chapter is closed. I have moved on to bigger and better men.


Also, I am not planning to replace her right away, though someday I will definitely get a convertible again. The salesman told me he thinks they are going to bring the Beetle back as an electric car and I am here for it!


But the truth is, I rarely need my car. It's not very often that Rob and I are both leaving the house in different directions. So I will go without as long as I can, pay off some of this debt we have recently accrued, and enjoy being chauffeured around a while longer.


But if they announce the Beetle is back, all bets are off.




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