One Car, Two Car, Red Car, Blue Car!

My car broke the other day. As my dad said, the wait and hope method (which I think I learned form him) didn't quite foot the bill this time. If I wanted to be honest I would say that my poor 1993 Volvo has been a bit under the weather for a couple months. Ok, maybe like a year. Ok, maybe it's been a little funky for quite a while but I chose to live in a world of disillusion because I become emotionally attached to inanimate objects and I would rather avoid confronting the fact that my car has some issues than be a grown-up and deal with it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, right? Righttt...

So, my car broke last weekend. THANK JESUS I covered my ass enough to get AAA a last year--so the whole ordeal of getting my car from it's broken-down location to our house was virtually painless. (Major props to Kevin from AAA, BTW.) It was having my poor broken baby sitting in front of our house that was the painful part. (Ok, actually, the car is sitting in front of our neighbors house and I am avoiding the next steps to taking care of my broken car SO MUCH that I haven't even gone over to let them know that yes, I did have AAA park my broken car in front of their house and that yes, it might be there for a little bit and, uhh, is that ok? That's how much I don't want to face taking my car to the shop.) It could be a tiny, little problem--fixable in an hour, but it could also be something major, major. I know so little about cars that I can't even give you an example if what a major problem would be. The gas line broke? Engine fell out? A Cat crawled up there and died? I don't know... I choose to handicap Lovely Husband and I with only one car by not doing anything about my broken car. Not doing anything and having to coordinate our driving (which actually isn't really that hard, since I take the bus to work and he walks...) is less painful than taking my car to the shop and having them tell me it's totaled.

BUT, I will have you know that while I am NOT ready to face the possibility of saying farewell to my car, I HAVE explored the possibility of life without it. Her actually, my car is a her and her name is Blancita. (See, I told you, irrational attachment to inanimate objects...). What does post-Blancita life look like? Well, internet, if you've forgotten--we bought a house in May and Lovely Husband will be starting Grad School this summer (that was in the Christmas letter, sis you get yours?!) and we're hoping to do some remodeling to said house this summer (like trashing the uber-nasty bathroom and adding a deck and a fence), so, barring the possibility that Santa brings us a money tree in two days I think we're stretched just as far as my super-cautious, impending-disaster-is-on-it's-way-so-we-gotta-be-frugal personality allows. What does that mean? We're not buying a car. Huh-uh. What are we going to do? Well, if Blancita is beyond repair, and if I ever get the courage to take her in to find out the problem--and that problem is B-A-D-- then we're going to do this:

Ok, I think that was a college project or something, but really, car sharing is a pretty awesome idea. (And that was a pretty awesome video.) For those of you who've been living under a rock for the past 5 years: