I had Fiona since I decided one fateful day on my way into work at Orange Hell that I would slam my mom’s minivan into the side of Sears. It was a fun time, complete with cursing at police and a rather nasty airbag burn. So, what better to do than get me a car, right? Right. Fiona, being a tank and all, protected me from ever driving through a brick wall again. She brought me many, many places and traveled with me many, many miles. And I love her.
Fiona was always registered under my mom’s name and today, I bought a car. I have a title. I have a fucking title that says MY name and I have an apartment that no one lives in but me. I am a fucking adult. Whoa.
Now for the hard part: Naming the new ride.
I am a firm believer that a car with no name brings bad luck. Many people will disagree, but I don’t care. I am naming her. But I need suggestions. She is white with beige, leather interior and she is all shiny and even has a speedometer. That’s right folks, it doesn’t stay at 0 mph. It does this weird thing. The needle moves to the higher numbers when I accelerate, and then it goes down again when I brake. Who knew cars were so modern these days?
Anyway, so on the way home from picking her up from the dealership, while John Legend and I sang together, I was thinking of names. Here’s what we came up with:
1. Lucille – Because it sounds classic and well…feminine. And because I really like the song.
2. Lucy – Because that is just a cute name for anything. Except that chick from 7th Heaven who I want to strangle.
I am just not sure that any of these fit. Help me out. In the meantime, I am going to sit around and bask in my maturity. Okay…not maturity…wrong word. I mean adulthood.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: “The Will to Live” – Ben Harper