Turns out my registration stickers expired in July and I apparently never renewed them. I don't know if it was the fault of the notoriously poor Postal service on my block, the fault of my incredibly lazy neighbors who were supposed to keep track of my mail while I was in Ohio this summer, or the fault of the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that I'm only now realizing I went through after the Rob breakup. I actually kind of doubt it was the latter, as my car also needed inspected in July, and I managed to get that (much more expensive thing) taken care of.
Who knows. At any rate, the moral of the story is that tomorrow I will be at AAA, getting this fixed.
And the good news is that my record remains intact for always managing to talk my way out of tickets whenever I've gotten pulled over. The trick? Always remember and really believe that cops hate paperwork. Don't give them a reason to want to fill it out, and, most times, they won't.
The added bonus? The cop who pulled me over was super cute. Distractingly cute. All young and doe-eyed. Mmmmm ...