Tip: When your ex announces he's having a baby, go buy new car.

When a significant other tells you "I don't think I'm the marrying type" as a reason for breaking up, this is probably code for "Look for my wedding announcement to come in the mail in the next 9-12 months". Additionally, when he states "I think I'm too selfish for children", what he is really saying is "I don't like what your ovaries have to offer my sperm". Therefore, when I was texted the news late one night (by a very close friend and yes I am over it) that Bryce was reproducing, I had a mini melt down.

"I'm a good person. I want kids and marriage. What is wrong with me? Do I suck?" That was my streaming line of consciousness that night. All night long. The next day I confessed to several close friends that I was depressed about the upcoming bundle of joy. Then I took a shower, put my face on, and pretended not to care. That lasted approximately 1  hour and 27 minutes. I cared. While we had a semi-disastrous relationship, I had always imagined myself with a husband and 1.5-3.5 kids at this point in my life. I did not actively chose to arrive at 37.5 years without these accessories. Well, my counselor may contradict that statement so I should revise it to "I did not consciously chose to arrive blah blah blah". 

When I next spoke to the sweet man I am now dating (oh boy, he's going to be a fun one to blog about!), whom I will call Ben, he detected something odd in my voice over the phone. He's very good at that, despite the fact we see each other, oh,  not so much. "No honey, I'm fine. It's just my car is old and it's getting on my nerves to have to hold the windshield wiper handle to make it work". I had just successfully deferred to angst about Bryce's baby into irritation at my car. Success at sweeping my emotions under the rug! Thanks mom and dad.

Ben and I had a lively conversation about cars and I thought I was over Bryce's news. Until exactly 11:54 pm that night when I couldn't sleep again and these thoughts went streaming across the brightly lit billboard in my head "I'm a good person. I want kids and marriage. What is wrong with me? Do I suck?". Ergh, my emotional rug got kicked up. 

Fast forward through a week of ignoring my issues but increasing levels of crankiness and car troubles. My current car is 12 years old and every month something new just pops right off of it. It's like one of the transformer toys and I really wanted to see what it was going to end up turning into (I was hoping for a vacuum cleaner because we really need a new one) but I'm afraid the engine is now trying to beat the car body to the finish line in terms of collapse. 

So, last Monday morning I hauled myself into a car dealership and walked away the proud owner of a 2010 VW Jetta. I'm not sure if the high from the experience or the concept of power locks got me more jazzed. I decided to go with the clean diesel option because I am convinced big oil is bad and I think it looks cool to care. I like VW, they had a silver one and I got a sunroof. All of the big decisions right? Well, there is that whole APR/financing issue. I have never sat by myself in a car dealership and purchased a new vehicle. In fact, it had previously been on my list of things I wouldn't do on my own- somewhere lower than purchasing a home (checked off in 2005) yet above eating in a romantic restaurant (still haven't). Fuck it I thought! I can do this by my self. Ben, my father, my cousin and my brother in law had all expressed very good opinions on the current car market and armed with their information and an old checkbook, I marched right in. 

Of course I would get the cute salesman, darn. Now playing 'hard to get' in terms of purchasing would be more difficult. He didn't look a day over 27 (I do not date that young anymore friends) and he was furiously drinking Mountain Dew so I figured I had a little bit of the upper hand in terms of intelligent monetary discussions. I was wrong. 2 hours, one contract and a bit of a blur later, I had signed a lease with a 7% APR. How did THAT happen? Salesboy had me convinced the next soccer mom to walk through the door would snap up my silver sun-roofed easy locking car with one tap of her manicured fingers into her Blackberry. 

All was not lost however. And if you are still reading this ramble, you have come to the TIP OF THE DAY: Go straight to your local credit union (BECU for me) and refinance your damn car! That's right, it's that easy. Ben (did I say he was saavy yet? well, he is. Did I mention I am a goober in love with him despite a whole bunch of issues? well, I am) had mentioned this but it was my awesome, very pregnant and apparently very smart colleague (yes, she's a girl) who convinced me to do it that day. The credit unions offer a much lower rate and they don't give big commissions to the car people like Chase and Bank of America so the car people don't finance through them as much. Unless you push them into it, which I obviously did not. 

So here I sit happily typing that my bouncing new 2010 VW will be financed at the healthy weight, er, rate of 5.49%. I don't actually have the car yet. I had to go and buy the most popular 2010 car of this season so it's arriving soon. But I have the paperwork and the satisfaction that my ex can't possibly afford a new car since he will be buying diapers and mini versions of the terrible clothes that he wears.

Okay, should probably go to work to pay for my new car payments. Happy Friday to one (and I see who you are my new reader) and all!

~Single and 37