Aw, man. I suck ass at blogging lately.
It could be that every day, I wake up, take a shower, get dressed, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed, wake up and start the whole whirlwind that is my life all over again (except on weekends, when there is brunch). And who wants to read about that? Plus, Eric's out of town and I'm lonely and eating poorly.
I did do something rash last night, however: I bought a new car. Okay, not a new car, exactly, but a car that's new to me. It's a 2000 VW Golf, which just goes to show you that Volkswagen's branding strategy has successfully sucked me in (using ELO and Nick Drake songs in your commercials is NOT playing fair), tumbled me around for a good long while and then spit me out into the luxurious velour driver's seat of my 1.8 liter turbo baby. It's silver and it has a moon roof (Though I'm still not clear on the difference between a sunroof and a moon roof. It must be the Nick Drake.) and I don't have to pull a muscle reaching over to roll down the passenger-side window when I want some crossdraft action. Oh no, my friends. I have power windows now. Oh! And keyless entry with one of those rad VW switchblade keys.
I also have a six-disc CD changer, which is conveniently located in the trunk. Now please don't interpret what I'm about to say as a complaint against my new toy/monthly financial drain, but seriously people, what the fuck? We can shoot guys into space, but until the 2003 model year, nobody could figure out how to put a six-disc CD changer in the actual cabin of a vehicle?
Anyway, after years of waffling about whether I wanted to drive the ol' Subaru until its wheels flew off or bite the bullet and take on a car payment again, I feel pretty happy. I didn't submit to the temptation of buying a brand-new, rapidly depreciating car; I have a very reasonable monthly payment that, if I can keep my motivation up, I should be able to double, thereby paying off my car in half the required time and, dude, I have a totally sweet little ride.
One issue, though. Is my car a boy or a girl? My inclination is to pay homage to my maritime heritage and call it "she." But there's something sickly satisfying about calling it "he," sorta like "say my name, bitch!"
I think I'll just stick with tradition and call it "my car."
You can find more of the interesting word usements I structure on Apple.com.
Read my article, Better Writing Through Design, on No. 242 of A List Apart.