With an upcoming Halfway-cross-the-country-with-everything-I-own-in-my-backseat Drive looming in the upcoming month (cue "Wide Open Spaces" by Dixie Chicks), I sadly stared out the window at Julio, AKA The Little Honda That Could. My 2002 Civic had been with me through a lot and we had a strong bond, a solid connection. Julio always kept me safe in his youth...but now we had come to point in our relationship where I couldn't think with my heart, I had to think with my head. And I knew there was a pretty good chance I would probably end up stranded on the side of the road in Arkansas somewhere during my drive out to my new home.
We had been through a lot...I had carted sorority paraphernalia (and sisters)around town in him all through college, I always knew that my trusty beach chair and towel would be in the trunk whenever I needed them, and he hadn't gotten mad at me when I was learning how to drive a manual and I would grind his gears or peel out at every stop light. But the non-working A/C, the failing clutch, and the dented bumpers just weren't cuttin' it anymore. (Okay, so the dented bumpers may have been attributed to my stellar driving skills, so I can't hold that against him...)After Justin's Commissioning Ceremony, my parents and I headed out to Greenbrier Chrysler, the same venue where I had traded in my 1995 Ford Explorer (RIP Charles) for Julio, just four years prior. He looked so sparkling new back then. Now, okay, not so much. I browsed through the selection and carefully selected my newest sidekick for the next three years!
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