Goodbye, Amazing Technicolor Dream Van.

Hello, yet-unnamed Dream Car - with air conditioning!



Yes, this is what I did with a chunk of my weekend.

I bought a car.

It's not new, but it's new to me, and it's in great condition.

And did I mention, it has AIR? The kind that's CONDITIONED? And all COLD AND STUFF?

And that it's the exact kind of car that, if I could pick any car to drive, my dream car would be? That I've always wanted a Grand Prix?

I know I don't post much "God stuff" here, but I just have to testify.

I have to testify about a God that knew just what kind of car I wanted, and knew that I had no means to get it through the standard channels, but made a way for me to get it. And in a way that I know it was Him (working through a couple of benevolent souls, if you're reading this, you know who you are) doing it.

I can't even wrap my mind around it.

And not the least of the benevolent souls was my very own sister Amanda, who could've bought the car with her insurance money, but knew that it was the kind of car that I'd always wanted (did I mention I'd always wanted a Grand Prix?) and passed on the opportunity, so that I could buy it.

Poor little Anna Marie, by the way, isn't nearly so stoked about the car (And the air conditioning. Did I mention the air conditioning?) She cried a good bit of Saturday, when she discovered that she'd be riding in the car now instead of my van (which, by the way, NO AIR!) Silly girl. Guess she doesn't remember the sweat beads on her nose for the past two summers.

Or the summer that my parents, my brother and his first wife, my sister, and Anna Marie and I (Jason was out of town) went to see fireworks at a church an hour away, and the air went out in the van. And we had to ride the whole way home, all of us together in the van, with no air.

(And by the way, opening the windows in the back of the van is NOT the same as rolling them down in a car. Just so you know.)

And now, when I go somewhere and I'm the News Editor, I have an actual all-one-color vehicle to step out of.

And I won't be all sweaty and junk from riding there with no A/C.

(Side note: this car had lovely tinted windows, but the great state of Mississippi decided a couple of years ago it wasn't fond of aftermarket tint jobs so much. Apparently, really dark factory tint, like I had in my van, is more to their liking. So now if you have aftermarket tint, you have to get a separate inspection. And my windows didn't pass. So Jason has spent a good chunk of his afternoon scraping the tint off, so that no one thinks I'm a thug and such.)

No more Mom My Ride for this Rokken Mom!