Anxiety and Lime Green Cars

Green carI have a theory.

It is my belief that people who buy brightly coloured cars can’t possibly suffer from anxiety. For 3 weeks we’ve been test driving cars. Finally I’m getting rid of the Impala (complete with wood grain interior). We’ve had it for 10 years and the only reason I agreed to it back then was it had a sunroof, spoiler and tinted windows. Back then the only people who drove Impala’s were old people and cops, which I can only guess was because they could fit a fraternity of drunken university boys in the back seat comfortably. But I liked the car. It was way better than driving the dreaded van. Plus, the upside to driving a cop car is never being pulled over, which is more than I can say about the Caravan. Who gets pulled over in a Caravan? This girl.

What can I say? I’m a bad ass.

A bad ass who can’t stick to a topic…

Anyway, buying a new car stresses me out, well really buying a shirt stresses me out… but in this situation…Which car? Is it safe? Is it sexy? Will it fall apart in 5 years?  Will it make me look 20lbs lighter? So I did what any decision challenged, anxiety ridden person would do in today’s social media world. I asked Facebook for opinions. Here’s what I learned.

Ford people hate Chevy.

Chevy people hate Ford.

Both of them hate Foreign.

I got no help what so ever because it’s a personal decision and sadly I suck at those.

We finally decided on the car. I’m not posting what kind because first, I don’t want to offend anyone… but really I’m afraid of receiving comments. Something else I’ve learned is that people love to tell you their car horror stories, especially if you just purchased the same car. Just know this, we went with the car that gave us the most bang for our buck, good warranty but sexy enough to satisfy, unfortunately though we did sacrifice our patriotism. Please forgive me Canada, but the way I see it the employee who sold it to me was Canadian, so you know food on his table and the tables of all the service workers at the dealership. I can rationalize anything. Try me.

I shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to get emails.

Now here is where the decision got really hard and the whole reason for this rambling post.

What colour?

How could colour be such a hard decision? I have to admit, I didn’t see it coming. We jumped back and forth for a week. Now get this, it wasn’t even a bright colour we were deciding on. It was black or white.

BLACK or WHITE!

Because I knew neon green, bright red or even a simple blue would just stress me out. This is where the theory comes in. I looked at all the brightly coloured cars on the lot and I thought, “Not a chance in hell could I ever be comfortable in that.”

I started paying attention to the brightly coloured cars driving around. I would look at the driver and think, now that’s a person who’s comfortable with themselves and knows what they want. I want to be like that.

I’m not.

Black is super sexy and happened to be the floor model sitting there all sleek and shiny with its tinted windows, calling my name and I did like the look of it better. But as my sister so lovely (not so much) reminded me, I’m not exactly great at keeping things clean. Black shows everything. I know because all I could base my decision on was what was around me and what was around me was a dirty, dented, scratched BLACK Dodge Caravan.

Plus my daughter pointed out that cosmically we didn’t want two black vehicles. Buying another black one could screw with our universe. “Go with white,” she said, “Ying and Yang and all of that.”

True. True. Plus the husband will be driving the black van and me the white car, making me good and him evil.

We went white. It’s a balance thing.

If I was really serious about facing my fears maybe I should’ve got the lime green car. If I drove around in a bright car would I develop some kind of sureness about myself? …Or end up in an ugly lime green car questioning my ability to make a rational choice?

Someone with more credibility than me should do a study on the anxiety levels of people in bright colours. I need to know if I’m on to something. Then I can do one of those magazine survey things. “What Your Car Colour Says About You.”

What colour of car do you drive?

It’s The Holidays, Everyone Fricking Relax!

This here is a rant.

Over the past two days I’ve read comments on social sites crucifying (pun intended) others for using (Xmas) the abbreviated version of Christmas. One of the victims was me this morning on Facebook. I posted a picture of Christmas cookies and in my usual fashion rambled on and on and on and within my post I typed “Xmas” instead of “Christmas.” And so it began.

A “friend” of mine, really I haven’t seen her since I think I was seventeen…so ten years ago, (achem) took it upon herself to point out how I took the Christ out of Christmas. No joke. I have that power. She has every right to be concerned…She also made sure to tell me that I shouldn’t take any offense by her pointing this out.

First of all, I know what I wrote, thank you very much. Did I take offense to it? Well, obviously, yes because she stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong. It’s none of her damn business what I choose to put on my page. I see tweets and statuses everyday that either offend me or challenge my morals but I don’t go all self righteous and point them out. And do you want to know why? Because they are my beliefs and my morals, obviously not theirs; When it happens I simply scroll down and ignore it because it isn’t my place to tell someone else how they should think, speak, write, etc.

Now usually I’m pretty good when I get comments I don’t like to my posts. And I can’t even remember ever deleting anyone’s, even though I have some pretty “out there” friends. You know who you are.  I’m not a difficult person to get along with, as long as you don’t preach to me. The fact that I used Xmas instead of Christmas is simply because I’m lazy and trying to save time, not because I’m trying to diss Jesus. We live in the world of texting and tweets for God’s sake! I mean, I’m sure Jesus isn’t mad at me for saving some characters, actually I’m pretty sure he has other things to occupy his time then feeling offended by someone’s Facebook status.

That being said, I deleted her comment and then after thinking about it for a while I deleted her entirely. I don’t need someone dissecting what I say. She doesn’t even know what my faith is. Whatever “higher power” I choose to pray too or whether I do at all is my business. I never assume, especially when it comes to religion that someone has the same beliefs as I do. I never ask. It breaks my number one rule; never speak of religion (or lack thereof) with others unless invited to do so, you don’t have the right to preach. Leave it to the professionals within the walls of their denomination and keep your nose out of it.

Relax people, it’s Xmas!