This past Saturday, I said goodbye to my 350z. I had been so
hell bent to get rid of this car that I didn’t realize how sentimental I would
get when I finally drove off in my more appropriate-for-my-current-life-stage
car (the 2014 Mazda CX-5). I’ve been thinking about the Z all weekend long. The
Z was my car of transition, my quarter life crisis car, the car that I imagined
myself driving when I thought about my future when I was 18.
I bought the Z 6
years ago. Around that time I had called off an engagement, moved out of my parents’
house, started a job that I had busted through 2 years of grad school to get,
and started a relationship (which would eventually lead to marriage). The Z
represented the badassary freedom I felt at the time. I was hopeful and tired
of the bullshit I had put myself through. The Z was the spirit animal of my 18
year old self. So when I said goodbye to
her on Saturday, I was also saying goodbye to a little part of me that I had grown out of. I was no longer
feeling tumultuous. I wasn’t an intern
anymore. I was licensed, married, setting money aside for my house,
contributing responsibly to my 401k, setting aside personal savings. OH MY GOD
I HAD BECOME AN ADULT, and MPG’s mattered more than looking good, and cheaper
gas mattered more than leather interior and sports car handling.
The new car ushers in the possibility of maybe future baby
seats (NO I’M NOT PREGNANT), camping
trips, and road trips. This car may transport
the boxes into the new home I buy with my husband. I’m excited, and honestly I
love my new car.
Good bye Z, good bye Sam, may you make some other young
Adult the thrill you gave me.
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