Ooooh, ooooh, Subaru!

So the picture I recently posted of the battered fender of my car has led me to thinking about said car.  It is a well-loved, well-used 2003 Subaru Outback.  All stereotyping about Subarus aside, I love this car, as scratched, dinged, and now mangled as it may be.  It is not an aesthetically pleasing car.  Really on the rather homely side.  Kind of like a grown-up Pacer.  I have no idea why I chose red for the color when we were buying it--I'm more of a black or dark gray kind of person when it comes to cars.  I must have been feeling uninhibited that day.  The interior has seen better days, surviving nine years of my kids basically growing up in it.  Add to that coffee stains everywhere, including the ceiling, due to my inexplicable refusal to use travel mugs.

In all her glory.  Observe the glint of sun on the passenger front window.  Pretty.

A little part of our history attached.

Marks from our old sailboat dinghy being dragged across the roof.  Totally Jay's fault on that one.

Coffee stains.  On the ceiling. 

My life from the console.  I'm surprised neither of my kids have scammed that cash.

But it is one of the safest-feeling cars I've ever driven--excellent in snow and ice.  And I actually embrace its less-than-desirability.  It's kind of my way of thumbing my nose at the auto industry and the people who fall prey to them, as they hold the notion that the car you drive speaks worlds about the person you are.  So not the case.  After all, once you leave the confines of your car, you being you is what matters.  I feel like I'm sounding all preachy-like today.  But seriously, do people look at me while I'm driving and say, "Oh, look at that poor woman driving that god-awful car.  How does she survive?"  Hopefully they do not, but if they do, that's OK.  It's kind of like adopting the homeliest dog or cat at the shelter.  Beauty isn't everything!  There are benefits to owning such a heap, as well.  Nobody wants to steal it or even break into it.  Taxes and insurance are next to nothing.  And, to quote Jane's Addiction, "It's mine.  All mine."  Well, and Jay's, too, but he pretty much refuses to drive it.