Hi! How are you?
Good?
I hope so.
Me? I’m “fine!”
Thanks to some of you, I’m SO fine, that I’m using Gun Fingers everywhere I go.
Someone will ask me “How you holding up?” And I’ll go “just great!”
Pow! Pow!
Thanks a lot for that, Internet.
Oh, Thumbs Up, how I miss you.
Today I called a friend who I haven’t talked to in about 7 days, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but the speed at which crazy things are happening in my life, 7 days in my life is like an entire year in the life of someone whose life does not suck.
Or something like that.
When my friend answered the phone, I was all “Oh, I have something hilarious to tell you! Tony was in a car accident and totaled The Van! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
She was very quiet and said “Y, that’s not funny. It’s not funny at all.”
And I was all “I know it’s not, but! It’s either cry or laugh and I think it would be uncomfortable for both of us if I started to cry, so, Ha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaaaa!”
Yesterday we had to go get all of our personal belongings out of the van and release it to our insurance company so that they can take it to Van Heaven. ( I refuse to believe that my van is going to the junk yard. Van Heaven, people, it’s in Van Heaven.) As I was pulling things out, I started to cry, because for as ugly as that van was, I fucking LOVED that van.
Can I tell you the story of my van? Please? Because talking about it makes me feel better.
A few years back, my sister left her van with me when she went to NY. I fell in love with it. Sure, they’re ugly and people make fun of them, but dudes, you can open that side door up and let the kids pile in and to me? That was awesome.
When we decided that it was time to get a new car a few years back, I immediately made it known that I wanted an Ass-tro van.
“Really?” Tony asked, in a very disturbed tone.
“Yes, really.”
“What about a Suburban?”
“No. I want an Ass-tro van!”
“What about a, um, anything other than that big ugly van?!”
“No. I want an Ass-tro van!”
He did manage me to get me to agree to test drive a few suburban’s and other cars that I do not remember because I was obsessed with the dream of owning my very own van and therefore did not really pay attention to the stupid other cars that were not Ass-tro vans. However, none of those stupid other cars impressed me and so I was all “Let’s go back to the Chevy dealer and pick out ma’van!”
And it just so happened that they had the Perfect Van there waiting for me. White, with running boards, ski racks, power everything, privacy glass, etc and it was in perfect condition (only one year old.)
I’ll admit that at the time we bought that car, we were the worst negotiators in the history of negotiations and we did not get a good deal on the car (something that has haunted me for the past 6 years. Yes, SIX YEARS and we still had 13 payments left. See? I am not lying, we got screwed.) But, we were able to get the monthly payment that we wanted and so we signed the papers and drove off with Ma’Van that night.
And oh, how I loved that van.
In the 6 years that we’ve had it, I’ve not complained about it even once. I had nothing but pure love for that van. People find that hard to believe, because “it’s a van! And it’s ugly! Surely, you can’t love a giant, ugly van!”
But I did. I still do.
It was perfect for us. My boy’s needed me to pick up their friends from school? HOP RIGHT IN! Tony wanted to take the boys camping? Just pull out the back seat and everything fit! Unexpectedly pregnant with our third child? Not a problem! There’s room for 8 of us!
You wouldn’t believe the ridicule that I took for that van, and you would not believe how little I cared because screw you all, I chose it and I love it and you can all suck it hard.
I know that I sound like the biggest asshole in the world going on and on about a stupid van, but like I've said at least 2069 times in this post alone, I loved that van and was looking forward to hauling buttloads of kids around in it for at least another 5 years.
But now, it's gone. Forever. And in just a few short days the insurance will offer us a settlement for it that will probably be just enough to pay it off and we will have to start all over with a car that I will hate with a passion because it is NOT MY VAN and it will NEVER BE MY VAN.
Now, if you don't mind, would you please bow your head in a moment of silence for The Van?
Thank you.
I understand the love for a car. I still miss my little old Honda Civic, which is crazy nerdy, that I sold 4 years ago. I sold it to a very smelly guy, and I feel REALLY badly about that. I am sure it smells, too, now, and this upsets me to no end. (Yes, quite possibly I need help.)
But anyway, how are Tony and the precious little girl doing?