vroom vrooommmm!

So, I can't talk about my car keys without posting something about my actual car! Well, let me just give you some information about her. Her name is Tink (short for tinkerbell because she's fiesty even though she's small). She is a 2010 honda civic. She is black. She gets great gas mileage. We have amazing conversations about life all the time. She is the product of my sweat and tears. She's basically my child.

The one thing I hate more than anything when I tell people about Tink is that they immediately assume that my parents bought her for me. Then, they give me a dissertation on how spoiled I am. Let this be known to the world that I have had a job as a lifeguard and swim instructor since the DAY I turned sixteen years old. And a few months before that, I was training to become a lifeguard in order to get a job immediately when I became of age. Ever since then, I have been working 30-hour weeks on top of schoolwork, sports, and Girl Scouts. But hey, insurance and car payments do not cover themselves.

So when I explain to people how hard I work in order to pay for my car, they always ask me, "Well, then why didn't you just get an older car and work less?" Honestly, even if I did not have that bill to pay every month, I would still be working long weeks because I like to have money in the bank, especially since I am so good at saving. I like being independent, which leads me to my next analysis. IT'S A GIRL THING.

I have that car to prove a point. Society likes to think that women cannot take care of themselves. Apparently, we are just a bunch of air-headed bimbos that are only useful to a guy in the bedroom. WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Look at me. I am a sixteen-year-old girl, and I bought my first car, a 2010, in November of 2009. By that time, I had only been working for five months, and I still have plenty of money left over. Actually, I have enough money to buy a second new car because I take care of myself. I do my work, I know what needs to be done, and I accomplish everything that needs to be accomplished. So to all the men out there with beat-up, old clunkers who spend their days in front of the TV, watching football with a six-pack of beer on their laps, I say, "BE JEALOUS."

But it's not all about the feminism. I love Tink because she's part of the culture, the American Dream. Everyone wants the nice car, in the nice driveway, in front of the nice house with the nice white fence. Tink brings me one step closer to that dream. I feel like an American when I am driving her. She has taught me one of the most valuable life lessons one can learn in life. Hard work and determination can give a person a whole world of happiness.