Wait....Your Baby?

It's been fairly common knowledge for the last several years that I absolutely ADORE Mustangs (like the car...not the animal). When I was 11, I wanted nothing more than a brand new, hot pink, Mustang convertible. A year later, I decided that a nice canary yellow Mustang GT was much more my speed--take note, I still get goosebumps when I hear that lovely engine roar to life from some nearby parking lot. At the ripe age of 13, I decided the vintage 'stangs were my favorites. Specifically, 1967, pink. In case you haven't noticed...I was obsessed with pink for a good majority of my preteen and early teen years.

Well, by the time I was 14, I had given up any hopes of ever getting my own Mustang. It's fun to dream, right? But it just wasn't realistic.

Hm....I was right on one account. I still don't have a Mustang....but my big bruh does! My awesomely amazing grandparents bought Jared a car! How awesome is that!?

No, it's not mine, and I can live with that. The important thing is that I get to drive it. *evil laugh* Ah my minions...my evil plan is unfolding so perfectly.

As for me...I've gotten over the idea of my dream Mustang...I've decided to focus on the far more realistic idea of a completely restored '67 Chevy Impala....black of course. Is that too much to ask? ;)