It's JUST a car.

Dear Hyundai Elantra,

I'm not usually like this with things. In fact, I wrote this post on my awesome XANGA (bet you haven't heard that term in a while!) page in August of 2006.

I murdered my plant last week. This guy held on for so long. I bought him last year about this time on a trip to the giant Ikea in Frisco. There were two of them then. The one in the white vase passed earlier this spring. I hadn't realized how much I enjoyed their green presence until I returned to find the last one browning on Friday. I was off soaking it up in Florida while he died in my hot apartment.

Good thing I am not nostalgic and do not name things like my plant, car, or house. There is nothing quite as ridiculous as someone leaning into the steering wheel and saying "Come on Talulah,or Tiger, or Jamie." It's steel on wheels. Let it go.

I have to be this way to make the passing of the plant easier. I cry at Hallmark commercials and movie previews, therefore I cannot "overly-feel" my own life. Maybe it's my German heritage (not a scapegoat for everything, I promise), or maybe I am the world's only romantic-realist. Can you be both? Guess so...

And yet, last night I couldn't help but ask for a photo with said steering wheel before we pulled away from the car dealership. I don't even think I felt this much emotion leaving my apartment on the day after graduation. It's just that this car has been with me through SO much.

This little box on wheels carried me from Texas to Arizona in November of 2006. It saw me drop my parents off at the airport and then crumple to tears as I pulled out into an unknown city. This silver chariot has carted me to work,girl's night, parties, dates, showers, rehearsals, concerts, sporting events, weddings and funerals. It knows what songs I sing at the top of my lungs and how I don't really know the words to those songs.

It's been through a two accidents, several video shoots, and two replaced windshields.

This car has seen my entire love story with my husband. I leaned against it as I waved good-bye each night and drove 50 miles across town. It's been privy to conversations with everyone important in my life on just about every topic. This automobile has seen me at my worst and best.

The replacement arrives after work today. This new one is to be my car for the next chunk of life. I think we're both in for a wild ride.

Although I never named it, I'm still going to miss it. I'm still going to miss her. That's all.