Keeping Up Appearances

I was in a small car accident - a fender-bender, really - last week. (Everyone is fine.) My fender - or more accurately, my door and the area behind my door that is apparently called a quarter panel - is dented. It was entirely not my fault, and as the other party worked for a car rental company it appears that there is a check in my future.

1. I am shocked at how much body work apparently costs. I really thought the amount of damage would be less than my deductible. Nope.
2. This means that the insurance company will cut me a check. A big one - less than the value of a new car, but big-ish anyway.

And so enters the first major disagreement of our young marriage. I would take the money, get the tires aligned (damage caused by the accident), get some work done on the engine (pre-existing), and take the rest of the money (which I estimate to be around $1,500, although that number pretty much came from my head) and pay off some debt, get some fuel to heat the house in the winter, or do something else to better our financial situation. This would mean that I would drive a slightly dented but totally functional car.

Husband would spend all the money getting the body work done. We would have a car with a smooth exterior, although next month's finances would be the same as this month's (which is to say, tight).

I really don't care what my car looks like. I care that I hate worrying about how we will pay all the monthly bills. I care that I have a car. It's eight years old, but it gets me from point A to point B, regardless of if it is dented.

Husband doesn't like looking at dents and hates the idea of driving a not-so-nice-looking car. He doesn't love the bills, but he's willing to live with them since we do in fact have enough to support ourselves.

And so goes the disagreement.

No One Mourns ...

I'm days away from a big birthday. I'm usually not one to spend a lot of time reflecting on my life, but indulge me.

Also, I am watching Glee (I'm giving it another season before I make it official, but so far it's in the running for Best Show Ever). On Sunday, my family and I are going to a touring production of Wicked. So my reflection is taking the form of musical theater. (Naturally.)

Now, in a musical there is some adversity ... although you'd never see a character in a musical spend an entire workday fighting off wracking sobs. Typically, one character comes to a realization about another character (or themself) ... and they use this realization to improve a situation. They learn they have skills or powers previously unknown. They assess the value of objects or people or a location.

Lessons are learned. The heroine belts out a solo. The people around her support her voice and her dance moves. She's a better person at the end. Usually she's in love and/or a stronger person.

My life ... not really like a musical. I'm messy. I can't sing. I don't learn the lesson the first time. No one else knows my spontaneous dance moves. But that's OK. Because you never know what happens after the musical ... I don't know what will happen in my 30s, but I know that I am in control. No lyricist, no choreographer, no actress. Me.


P.S. Rachel Berry just said she was born in 1994. Shit, I am old.