This one is for Dave (a.k.a. Update on the Iowans; a.k.a. Yuppie Mobile)

My husband loves Craigslist. I've come to see it as a conquest for him. How much can I get for how little? At first it was a mild interest (he first came across it several years back), but now that IC has their own site, our home has become a full blown Craigslist endorsement. Yesterday we filled our garage with some man's apartment belongs, along with another person's houseplants and patio furniture.

The extremely orderly person in me is freaking out. The idea of walking into my garage to find things randomly placed has the potential to give me a bad case of the hives. Not to mention the idea of the dirt that has been brought into the house from other people (ok, ok, I'm not that bad... but I can be). But, for Mother's Day my mom gave me this bracelet that says 'Live, Love, Laugh', so I am taking that as my motto as my house becomes something of a collectors museum.

Now, in all fairness, Jonathan has really made out like a bandit. He has found some pretty sweet deals (patio furniture in perfect shape: $10; the entire contents of someones apartment: $50). Even last night Jonathan was talking to Jeff about making a job out of selling stuff on Craigslist. You just need to find items on the cheap, and resale them. It seems plausible, given the fact that we have several items now that could easily be resold for twice what we paid.

And speaking of Jeff... This is totally premature, and I must warn you all that this new endeavor is as planned out (at least in my mind) as my kid's weddings and so I am merely talking rather than give any hard fact or truth...

It turns out my husband wants a van. Jeff has this van at Budget that Jonathan really likes. Pat had said something to him about it last week, but Jonathan never went to see it until yesterday. In my mind this is how I imagine the meeting scene between Jonathan and the van.

[Jonathan gets the keys from Jeff, thinking "Hm, could I really drive a minivan?" before opening the doors to only reveal leather seats - Jonathan's passion - and cargo space that can substitute for his dream truck for several more years. Then as he leaves the parking lot to pick me up, he says "Now, van, how are we to convince the van hating Sarah that you are indeed the road worthy vehicle of our dreams?"]

Also, part of me thinks that there was the slow motion run towards one another...but I could be wrong.

So, anyways, Jonathan really likes this van. Last night he raddled off all the pros to us getting it while I cringed at the thought of being a soccer mom. *Disclaimer: There is nothing wrong with being or wanting to be a soccer mom, just not really what I would ever want myself to be labeled.*

Sure vans are cool. You know, the ones with shag carpet that have driven across the country carrying it's passengers to some protest. Or even the ones that have crammed in one too many people for a glorious camping trip. But this van, this van just says "Hello yuppie world, my name is Sarah, I am white and middle class." Now of course if we do end up getting the van I will eat my words, because that is what happens.

Example: While my mom was here last weekend, we were talking about dream cars. My two dream cars are a mini cooper and a Volvo station wagon (old school style of course). My mom mentioned something about vans and their usefulness with families. And I believe my direct quote was "Um, no. I will never get a van. Vans are for yuppies." Mom then proceeded to inform me that Jesse and Shelly never wanted a van, but once they got theirs they loved it. However that is not convincing to me. I have tattoos and body piercings. My brother does not. Point in case. Jesse = yuppie; Sarah = far from yuppie.

So, already within a week it appears that I may just eat my words. But I have made it very clear that if the Windhams do become the proud owner of a minivan I have the right to blaster it with non-yuppie bumper stickers.