When I'm ready to buy a new car -- and I'm fairly certain that time will come within a year or less -- I'm buying another convertible.

I miss my Little Girl, my 1987 Toyota Celica, white with a black top. When I chuck the Corolla (and that Corolla's been a good friend to me -- reliable as hell, had it since the beginning of grad school in September '04), I think I'm adding a third convertible to our little family.

Yes, I said third. Don't even get me started on Adam's TWO cars.