irony

This car was my dream car.  Back in April of 2004, someone drove a car like this to my father's funeral and I instantly fell in love with it.  I coveted that car and dreamed about owning it for FOUR years.  And ... in October of 2008, it was finally time for me to own one, too.  And this be the one I bought.  My very own Lexus 330 RX.  I officially owned my dream car.

 

 

 

And you know what?  I couldn't stand that car. 

Why, you ask?  Simple.  I totally, totally felt like an old lady when I drove it.  I felt 60 or 70.   Or 80.   I'm not sure why.  It just felt like such a sedate, boring, old-lady Rambler when I drove it. 

I'll never regret owning it, though.  It was my dream car, after all.

I sold this car yesterday and you know what?  I haven't missed it yet.  Someone else can drive the old-lady car!

That's not to say that there weren't some fun things in this car... like a navigation system and a back up camera and a really cool moon roof.  And really cool seat heaters!  (Wait, that made no sense...)  No, those things tickled my fancy something big.

And this here shifty thingy certain wouldn't be found in a Rambler... but still.  It's not four on the floor.  It's pretty sedate.

So, not really sure why I felt so old driving this car.  I guess because I saved for this car for four years... like an old person would do.  And it isn't a cute sportscar.  And it isn't a convertible.  And, and, and.

And get this....  the irony of the whole thing?  

I sold this car to a family who bought it for their sixteen year old daughter.  A cheerleader, no less.

I, uh, just gave up a hot car that a gorgeous, 16 year old cheerleader is now driving.

Go figure.

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