I was dragging Caper around the town last night, looking into people’s living rooms and kitchens, imagining their happy homelifes, etc., and I had a little realization that I think will be quite helpful.
The major reason I haven’t bought a car yet is that I’m waiting for some man to do it for me. I had an illuminating little chat with my father (hi dad, if you’re reading) wherein he pretty much refused to help me buy a car. I wasn’t asking for money, I just did not want the responsibility of picking it out. Even as I requested this I thought, I am thirty-one years old, is this really what I’m doing?
Four+ years of gynocentric education, moving on my own to the big bad city, grad school in Flushing, solo backpacking through Europe, lesbian speed dating- In general, I consider myself a pretty brave person.
Until I have to buy a car. And then I get all where’s my daddy, why do I have to make this decision, why am I single boo hoo hoo. It’s amazing the load of crap I carry around in my head and what a relief it is to put it down.
Reality: I get to buy a car. Any one I want. I get to pick it out and then it’s mine. This is very exciting.