I never officially said goodbye to her. Well, I did the first time, but we had another go-around and I was so quick to just hand her back off to my parents. This is a picture of her just moments before she met her replacement... the "other girl". I know it is kind of odd, me referring to her as a girl when I myself am a girl, but my celica... excuse me, my father's celica... is a female. When she was passed down from her first owner and first love, Rebecca Jenkins-turned-Woolery, she became my sweetheart... my sun, moon and stars. I named her the sexual celica because her curves were so... irresistible. My mother named her Cinderella. She thought that was more fitting, more proper. I was a 16 year old with a wild spirit. She was a more grounded human... yes, human.
Regardless, goodbye Celica. You are in a better family now, a better home. Your plates would be stolen if you were with me and birds would poo-poo on your rusting coat. Also, the birds here poo pink poo if you recall, and that's just disturbing. We miss you... sort of.
The "other girl" was purchased in the booming metropolis of Highland, IL. I stand in front of their finest corn stalks (and apparently weeds)... maybe not finest... but this was the best pull-off for a click click at 7:45 in the morning.
Feel free to share your favorite Celica story. Rebecca, don't be shy.