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.


Author: Emily

Writer/ Librarian

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