Tuesday, October 30, 2012

apparently I'm a responsible adult.

Maturity is not a virtue you would attribute to my name, so for me to be proactive and achieve something LONG before the deadline is decidedly out of character. Today I broke that pattern of procrastination [Tangent: I am roughly 2 weeks away from 30 so it is about damn time, right?]; I paid of my car...in full...two months ahead of schedule.

I've been paying for my mom van for over 3 years, and I am beyond stoked to have that extra $350 bucks a month from this point forward. Maybe I will start collecting Hummel figurines or develop a pricey pill habit, but likely I will just be incredibly stingy as I usually am to a Scrooge McDuckian level.

Generally, I am the type of person that shouldn't have nice things. [Tangent: Example: My MacBook pro looks like a kitten's scratching post, and it generally has some kind of chocolate or mustard stain in the vicinity of the touch pad. That's how you know it is loved.] Until today, my van which is valued at as much as an Italian sports car wasn't mine; it was something I felt was simply "On loan" like a library book. Because it didn't technically belong solely to me, and the bank had a vested interest, I should be ashamed of all the wear and tear I have put on it over the past few years, but I feel like they are simply battle scars. Pristine things make me insanely uneasy, so now the car....ahem... I mean MY car...matches me- a scarred and disheveled half robot. Here is proof:

My Uplander has been an Upland R since about summer of '11. 

The interior of my car is slightly embarrassing. Luckily, it was baptized with a 40 oz of Hi-C fruit punch within its first month in my possession, so I have never deluded myself into thinking light beige fabric floorboards would remain light beige indefinitely. Even though I have shampooed them multiple times, they are still marked with the memories of muddy skid marks and a pack of Polynesian sauce that I ran over one day and never really effectively cleaned up. [Tangent: Now that I think of it, that barrel of fruit punch was also from Chick-Fil-A, which should just fuel your decision to boycott that establishment if you have already decided to do so.]

About once a week someone tells me that someone has hit my car. My reply is always the same, "Yes, they did. A year and a half ago." In fact, the scrape and hanging bumper occurred on the night I met Jamie. I hit a chain link fence trying to park in East Nashville. No one was injured and apparently my high from meeting a foxy redhead trumped my ability to give two shits that I had just mangled my front end. 

Because, I felt free from the burden's of being indebted to an establishment, I treated myself to a exorbitantly large cup of Starbucks to really kick that high dose B12 into high gear. Nothing can bring me down today. I feel like the green leotarded ladies in this video:


  1. good for you, Kimmie! I've got a year left and CANNOT WAIT :) you are such a mature inspiration!


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