Getting a new car is always really great. Even if it's a used car, it's new to you. It's a change from the thing you've been driving for, in most cases, years. That was what happened to me a couple weeks ago. It's exciting. It's wonderful. But saying goodbye to my old car, that's another story.

I've driven Ruby most of the time for the last six years. She got her name from the color on her papers, which my little sister called her "adoption papers" when we first got the car 10 years ago. My time with her has included three different schools, including my first three years of college. Ruby has hauled more of my stuff than my bedroom ever has. Between driving home, to school, and my hometown, sometimes it felt like I was living out of my car. Most of the time, it looked like I was as well. I always had at least one change of clothes, makeup, notebooks, pens, medicine, and anything else you could think of hiding in some crevice of my car.

Ruby was there for me the first time a deer ran out in front of my car on the way to the movies. When it ran out in front of me and scared me half to death, nothing happened to the car. Not a dent, not a ding. It kept my brother and me both safe. It dealt with my horrible driving for six years and hasn't complained too much when I drove her too hard. We've made many three and four-hour road trips together just the two of us.

Don't get me wrong, Ruby and I have had our issues. It seems that every Thanksgiving, she has some problems. The radiator blew one year in 5 o'clock traffic on the way home. The next year, I got a flat tire the night before I was supposed to leave.

When it gets below 70 degrees, Ruby decides that she wants to change the radio station over and over, never giving you a chance to hear the song from the last station before moving on to the next one. The CD player is broken, and before we had it disconnected, the ensuing flashing lights would run the battery down often. Sometimes, she gets shaky, and you have to let off the gas before trying to speed up again. Sure, she has her quirks, but she was my rolling home, and I got used to accommodating all of the little things that made her unique.

Over the last six years, I may have spent more time in that car than all of my homes, apartments, and dorm rooms. It has been a constant in a time of constant change in my life. And for that, I will always love Ruby. She was the first car that I really felt attached to.

And no, Mom. This doesn't mean you can have my new car and give me Ruby back.