2006 Scion tC, or what I dearly hope to park in front of my apartment this weekend.

I test drove the tC last night, and in the words of many a smitten young woman, I think it may be the one.

The particular year I drove was an 06, a slightly edgier, more angular-looking build than the newer 08s and 09s. Which is to say, a better-looking build than the new models, which, I think, edge too close to a sort of space-age bubbleness I'm not too thrilled with. Photos don't really do the Scion much justice. Though much has been made of the supposedly substandard paint Scion used in the first two years of the Scion brand, the graphite color of this car was subtly beautiful, playing up both the curves and angles of the design to great effect.

But enough about the outside.

Though reviews have slammed Scion for their stripped-down interiors and basic interior materials, I have to say that I was impressed with the fit and finish of the car's living space. Tough ballistic nylon-like textile covers the seats, and the dash is covered in some kind of space age polymer resembling a vinyl record. Groovy. My sister couldn't keep her hands off the myriad buttons and dials on the center, "waterfall console," which opens and closes to neatly conceal the frankly, robotic-looking stereo and climate controls.

Scion is defined as an heir, an offshoot to a great legacy. And as soon as the key is turned on the Scion ignition, you get why. This is Toyota's sexy, fun, slightly kinky daughter. While used Accords, Civics, and Corollas in this price range have left me decidedly cold with their 1.8s, 1.7s and such other sad displacement figures, the Scion's feisty 2.4 is exactly what I want, where I want it. Roaring to go under the skin of a lightweight, but well balanced vehicle.

I had just gotten used to the very squishy clutch and very small gearbox of the Saab after repairing the clutch cable this December, so the tight, responsive gears of the Scion took a lot of getting used to (though not as much as the fact that the ignition is actually up by the steering wheel, not on the center console). The gear shift asks for only the smallest of motions to change gears. My sole complaint about this is the fact that the tC really does feel like it wants a 6th gear at highway speeds. It feels like you're asking a lot of it at around 65/70.

We took the tC for a ride on roads that I am almost frighteningly familiar with- roads around Boulder that I spent my teenage years driving. I'd joyrided these curves with my Volvo (which actually cornered better than one might imagine) my sister's 90 Prelude, and, most exciting, my father's 1996 Nissan Maxima (the v6). And the tC should have been the best time I'd ever had on those roads, had I not been trapped behind a noisy, smelly Suburban taking curves at about six miles an hour. But the reason I'll probably buy this car, the reason I fell so in love with it last night, is that I could tell this car wanted to take those curves just as fast as I did.