I had my last car longer than I’ve had my husband. Back in 2000, my dad helped me buy a 1997 Pontiac Sunfire. It was green, with a sunroof, stereo controls on the steering wheel, and surprisingly good pick-up. It was a great car for a 21-year old girl in Florida to have. And I loved it. But it didn’t love me back. The first month I had it, a woman made an illegal turn into me and banged up the front. A few months later, during a heavy rainstorm, I slid into a pole and bashed the back. Stereo thieves drilled a hole into the passenger door to snag my CD player. The battery had to be replaced several times. Some mysterious part snapped and prevented me from driving above 10 miles per hour. The speedometer stopped working. The brakes got sketchy. Then, finally, the transmission got flaky and the car started dropping out of gear (it was an automatic). When I realized that my car was trying to kill me, I made a decision to replace it as soon as I started working again. I started a new job last week. So, last night, I got a new car.

I had been dreaming for months of owning a hybrid Ford Escape. I like the size, the gas mileage, and the extra green-ness of driving the hybrid. My husband and I found a great deal on one, and I’m now the proud owner of a silver 2007 Escape. With heated seats. It does taking some adjusting to: the engine goes off if it sits idle for long enough, which kind of feels like the car has died. It’s my first SUV, so I almost have to relearn how to drive in order to accommodate for the extra length and change in visibility. But that’s okay, because I love this new car and I hope I have it for many years to come.