I got a new car. Well, new to me. My parents got a new car on Christmas Eve (big red bow!) and sold their Camry to me. It's lovely but it is enormous. Having driven nothing but wee small cars my whole life this one feels like I'm maneuvering a Panzer tank through the streets of Upland. I'm getting used to it but sometimes I feel like I have to put a "wide load" banner across the back. Also, I miss my old car. She was the best little car any girl could have asked for. I got her after a few years with a car that had narcolepsy, it would just turn off while on the freeway and I'd have to put it in neutral and turn it back on all while going 70. While that's hilarious it was also really stressful. So getting my brand new little Echo was a dream. She never once turned off. I think I only took her into the shop three times. She was a real trooper.
And now for a tragic mystery. You all remember Ruby St. Germaine, scorned woman and former lounge singer who lived in the cup holder of my car. At one point I thought maybe she had a heroine problem. I didn't write about this at the time but several months ago I got into my car and Ruby was... well, um...without her head. She had somehow been decapitated. Her body was in the cup holder and her head was on the passenger side floor mat. It was a horrifying, to say the least. I shrieked, "Ruby!!" and scooped her up and placed her in the glove box and then promptly forgot her, which is just typical for her life, right. She absolutely cannot catch a break. Well, when it was time to clean out my car I put everything in my glove box into a large bag. I don't remember seeing Ruby's head or body. Last night when I finally went through the bag she was not in it. Ruby is gone! I don't know how this happened. I checked every inch of the car before turning it over and it was totally empty. But Ruby somehow vanished.
I suppose this is a fitting end to a tragic life. She had a few good years in the limelight but for the most part it was a downward spiral of bad choices and too many splashes hot chocolate on her satin dress. I like to think that she's packed up and moved on, maybe to a quieter life on a horse ranch in Montana. She's left her broken dreams and tarnished memories behind in the cup holder.
Farewell, old gal. You'll always be the headliner of our hearts.