Needless to say, a lot has happened since we last met, fair readers. As a mighty quick recap, here are the things new in my life since I last checked in:

* car
* boyfriend
* ability to pack days' worth of clothing into one backpack
* inability to file my taxes way ahead of time
* start of repayment of grad school loans
* diminishing nack for keeping up well with friends
* application materials for 5-year college reunion
* scary realization of "oh shit, I've been out of ND for 5 years and I'm even poorer than before"

But first off, let's just talk cars, shall we?

We all know it, the '94 Chevy Cav had to go. She was wonderful to me, we'd been through so much together -- ah, I'll never forget that day in the Rosslyn, Va., parking garage when I heard the whimpered crushing of her driver's side door into that concrete pole. And oh, that glorious, oh-so-non-scary time when her alternator went kaput on me near Washington's 14th St. bridge, slowly wearing down to a slumber near increased traffic. Tugs at the heart strings, that memory.

But through it all, she stuck with me, totaling upwards of 121,000 miles before I decided to abandon her for a newer, shinier model. Somewhere, she's referring me as her cruel "ex" who dropped her for a young tart, but oh well.

So the 3-week-or-so hunt for a new car got underway, with Mom and Dad (and sometimes BF) and I hitting two Chevy dealerships in search of a nice Cobalt. (Figured I'd stick with what I knew: Chevys treated us well, and the Cobalt was perfect for me -- looks Volvo-esque, not too cutesy for someone who's simple and, well, not too cutesy.)

Dealership #1 (where eventual purchase was made): kind, friendly sales people. Firm, but accommodating in our constant pushing to lower that price! (to be read in a Ty Pennington Extreme Home Makeover fashion)
Ick factor: 3

Dealership #2 (where several blood pressures would be raised): friendly at first. Sly, sneaky people who held my '94 Cav keys hostage and busted out the "What will you pay tonight?" too many times to count. Literally, the sales guy came back to me, threw a bunch of figures my way and said, "my manager wants to know where we're supposed to come up with that missing $2,000 you want taken off." To which I replied, "I don't know why you're asking me. That's not my problem." It remained not my problem, as my parents and I walked out their door car-less.
Ick factor: 57

So now I am the proud almost-owner of a new silver Chevy Cobalt, plush with that new-car smell. Hmmmm...Of course, it's not really mine yet, until I can pay it all off in my 66 month deal. Which means when you add school loans 1-14, cell phone, credit card, soon-to-be-rent...

**Up next: how to properly FOIA the crap outta things for good stories (or how to take a day off of work to learn some cool stuff and hang with other folks from your company)**