I got a lot accomplished today, but not everything I had planned. 

I rode my bike alone today and it was not bad. I did a 7-8 mile ride off of Exposition, on the hills. It was nice to just worry about myself for a while. I did not have to feel like anyone was waiting for me and did not have to worry about anyone but myself. It was more relaxing than I had anticipated. 

I cleaned the Bronco today. Washed, cleaned the wheels, touched every surface on the inside of the truck with some cleaner or another. I drove it all morning. It was a nice way to say goodbye. I am selling it tomorrow. I did not know you could be this emotionally attached to a vehicle. His (it's) name is Sherman, after the tank. I have driven it for 16 years and it is so much a part of me. My friends hear it coming down their street and they know I am there. My dog greets me because he hears me coming. People see it somewhere in town and ask "were you at so and so the other day because I saw your truck". My parents bought it for me while I was in college and had a rule: they would pay for it unless I dropped out of school OR got married. I graduated while single and the truck was paid off by that time. It was the best gift a parent could give a child. It symbolized my freedom. It symbolizes my youth. It has seen me through so many things in my life: graduation, drug and workout phases, a few boyfriends, good time with friends, broken hearts, vacations, many moves (mine and friends), random nights of just driving so I can have time alone to 'think', Big Bend, hanging out with my dog, getting a friend out of a bad situation, starting a business, getting married, falling in love with the mechanic that thought it would be cute to put vice grips on my tricep after I crawled under the truck to see where my main seal leak was (his way of flirting). I will miss it. My urban assault vehicle; my frat boy truck. It is time for the next phase in my life and I will never forget our time together. I love you Sherman.

It is also hard because I lost my father unexpectedly the day before Thanksgiving last year. It is one of the few things I have that he has given me. When I was cleaning it out today, I found one of his gas cards in a pocket behind the seat. I have no idea how long it has been there or who put it there. Maybe at one point he gave it to me in case of an emergency. Who can remember after 16 years? 

My friend Jason is buying Sherman. I am not sure if that's a good or bad thing. I just hope he loves it as much as I do. 

Time to dry my tears. I am 36 for pete's sake and it's a truck. I need to let it go. I have the 63 Bel Air to work on and my new 09 Sierra truck. I have already used it to bring some of dads things back from Beaumont, move a couch, and take my bike to a couple parts of town for rides. I thought about getting a car, but I know myself and I know a truck suits me well. I have not named this one yet, but it's a chick and she better last for 15 years! I almost got taken out by a Camaro that slid in the rain on the way back from Beaumont, but someone/ something was looking after me. I am a bit of a non-believer, but it made me think that maybe dad was watching out for his youngest girl that day.