Goodbye Cavy, hello Ravy!

I know material possessions shouldn't be the focus of life, but I really do love my new car.

A couple of weeks ago, the Crapalier (my hated little Chevy Cavy) pretty much reached its breaking point. I couldn't take it anymore, so I had my brother take me car shopping on a Tuesday, and I found the perfect fit for me: a Toyota Rav4. So, that following Saturday, I spent five hours at the dealership bargaining with those sharks known as car salesmen. They really are a different breed, I must say. At one point, I found myself negotiating with the general manager of the whole place.

In the end, I finally got what I wanted. The best part? The Ravy actually works! I mean, the check engine light isn't on, the break light isn't on (even though the emergency break isn't even close to being in use), I can roll down any window at any point in time without having to lean across the space of the car and put my arm muscles to work, I can lock all the doors at once, and there is still that new car smell, as opposed to the smell of a vehicle about to explode when you shut the engine off.

This is the first big purchase I've made on my own, so I suppose that's an added joy to the fact that I won't find myself seeking alternate methods of passing my inspection each year.