Blu to You.

On 14th of August, 2007, I was sold.

I am a 1998 Volkswagen New Beetle. I have had one owner before; well a couple actually, and they were older folks. They didn't drive me very much. In the nine years I lived with them I only racked up 41,000 miles. Those of you more swift in the audience will likely make the connection that I am Techno Blue in color. I have a Pioneer sound system with subwoofer, and leather seats with heat. I have an alarm system.

I was waiting in the garage patiently that night. The neighborhood was quiet. Then two people walked in- a couple in their 50's. 'Excellent,' I thought. 'More old people. The next ten years of my life will be as uneventful as the last.'

They test drove me and petted me and said how pretty I was for my age. (Excuse me?) And it was all fine until they mentioned how happy I would make her, how she has always wanted one just like me, how now they had to sell her other car.

'Who's her?' I wondered.

Money exchanged hands. Plans were made for the drop-off the following morning.

The trip wasn't very long and soon I was parked outside- can you imagine the horror? No garage. Well, there was a garage on the property, but it was occupied. Inside was a fairly friendly '72 bus named Hans (we exchanged pleasantries from afar, though his vocabulary seems rudimentary at best. He seems very much like an old stoner sort...) and some sort of growling, cherry-red domestic convertible thing.

Then up pulled a nervous-looking black Escort, and who was driving it but a girl. Some short, vaguely-Irish looking and decidedly not old...girl.

I am now at the mercy of a 21 year old girl. A 21 year old girl with a highly unnatural obsession with dolphins.

Yes, dolphins. How cliche is that? Now I have to have my beautiful exterior strangely adorned with all manner of marine mammals. I dread the arrival of the post at every noon.

She is an acceptable driver. I will give her that much.

But now she has started a blog for me. That, along with her tendancy to take the curves a little fast, makes me question her sanity.

That, and her choice in music. The Big Bopper? Good gracious woman, I'm not a '58.