I Resolve to Give Up My Car. No, Really

It's been months since I decided to give up my car. I cancelled my insurance. I decided to donate the car to my local public radio station. (It's not worth selling. Besides, I don’t want to know who's driving my car around. It would be too sad. Really, it's better this way.)

Months later, my car is still parked two blocks from my house, collecting dust, bird crap and the wrath of my neighbors, who no doubt think that I've abandoned the sad ol' girl, since someone reported it to the city. Crap.

But now it’s the New Year. 2007. My car-free year. It's time to dig up my title (I'm sure it’s in my files. Or a box. Or my desk drawer. Oh dear.), clean out six years worth of on-the-road essentials, and lighten my proverbial load.

Among the inconceivable amount of paraphernalia I pulled out from Cecelia's various nooks and crannies at 10:30 last night were:

• Bungee cords (yes!)
  
• One red shoe (I've been looking for that...)
  
• One beekeeping textbook (so I can have sweet sweet honey and candles when the world goes all to hell and we will survive only by the number of post-Apocalyptic skills we've been able to acquire. Next on the list: knitting.)
  
• A long lost head lamp
  
• Two sheets of Barbie stickers (which I'm keeping, or course.)
  
• Photo of Dinosaur National Park (which prompted 25 minutes of road trip nostalgia)
  
• Two bazillion pens
  
• World geography trivia game
  
• Maps of: Virginia, Maine, Wyoming, Portland, Or., and the continent of Africa (Ummm?)
  

Anyway. It's done. As soon as I find that title, Cecelia will officially be out of my life.

And why has this taken me so long? Well, judging by the wave of melancholy and regret that gripped me when I took off my hideous red Hawaiian print seat covers, it’s probably because I am still deeply attached to this rusty blue hunk of metal and fabric. Four months after preparing myself to give it away, several successful months of commuting on foot, and I'm still in mourning. Weird.

New Year's Resolution #43: Stop procrastinating.

New Year's Resolution #44: Stop getting attached to carbon-emitting inanimate objects. Or, for that matter, inanimate objects with wheels (said the girl who is still mourning the loss of a bicycle stolen two years ago. What a terrible Buddhist I would make, all this clinging.)