I'm a Criminal

That's right; I've officially gotten on the bad side of the law. I've gone almost 19.5 years flying underneath the radar of justice, but I found out that I'm not as spotless as I thought. Today my bank account suffered the demands of society. This was the day that I found a dreaded note tucked "innocently" underneath my windshield wipers.

Check out the receipt from my wrongdoings:

In case you can't read it (click on the picture to see the full-sized version of my misfortune) or don't understand what went down, here's what happened in a nutshell:

A long long time ago I had a mom and a brother who told me it was time for me to change the registration on the car to Utah (instead of Texas), but because I have a hard time being motivated to get things done sometimes (especially when a car is involved) and because I didn't want to get rid of the beautiful Texas plates on the car, I never went to the place to change the registration. I have since been driving around in semi-fear that I'd get caught before I made time or remembered to go in. Unfortunately, I must have forgotten what city I lived in. Good ole' Provo is known for its strict police system (especially in regard to cars, parking, and college housing areas), but I seemed to temporarily forget this fact. Because I'm a nice roommate (and because my roommates beat me home), this week I parked out on the street instead of the usual spot underneath our townhouse. Today was the first day I needed to drive somewhere since Monday (boy, quite the exciting life I live, huh?). Once I made the trek to the car, I found a very weathered yellow envelope tucked under my wipers (it's snowed here since Monday).

Oops.

Thirty dollars later, I think I've learned my lesson. I'll be sure to go correctly register the car pronto.