I am now officially the owner of a 1993 Acura Legend. I went to the courthouse again today and laid out my seven documents in a row (seriously, seven of them). And the lady behind the counter said, "Wow, you came prepared!" She, of course, had no idea that this was my fifth time coming through the line in the last few weeks. If I have five tries to get something right, I think I'll always be prepared by the last try. Anyway, I walked out of there as the official owner of my car. And I celebrated by getting a flat tire on the way home.
But I didn't let that damper my mood. In fact, I'm so used to changing flat tires (I've done it about 12 times now) that I got the spare on in less than 10 minutes. I felt like a member of a pit crew. Then I went inside with my hands all grimy and my shirt covered in grease and wrestled a grizzly bear while growing a beard and chugging a Mountain Dew. Very manly stuff.
But really, I went to Target and the grocery store with my family and did Christmas shopping and picked out fresh produce. Equally as manly, but not as obviously so.