mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The D.M.V. sucks my A.S.S. I'm pretty tired tonight, so I probably won't write much. That, and I had a salad for dinner then a couple of Krispy Kremes. The Krispy Kremes are having turf wars with the Crispy Salad. They just aren't getting along like I thought they would. I went down to the coast with Lisa the Polymer Scientist. I had a less-than-ecstatic day trying to get a license. Wanna know the story? Yes? Well, gather 'round, kids. First off, some background. I need a current driver's license, or other form of state ID, in order to process into the Air Force. Unfortunately, my driver's license expires three days before I process. Dammit, #1. I went today to get a Mississippi driver's license. I walked into the room, and not a soul was there waiting. But the big signs said, in bold letters, "Take a number, and we will call you by number." So, I took a number and just stood there, staring at the cop at the desk. His head was down, and he looked like he was doing some serious work. Instead of being rude and interrupting him, I just stood there staring at him. When he finally looked up, he seemed pissed that I was there. "What?!" he said, looking annoyed that I broke him from his all-important paperwork. So I thought, until he folded up his "paperwork," and I saw it was a book of crossword puzzles. Sorry, Mr. Lowest-Job-That'll-Still-Allow-You-To-Wear-A-Badge Man. Oh, and by his accent I could tell he was definitely a Cajun man. At the risk of stereotyping any group of people, I must say that Cajun people are the meanest group of humans I've ever had to deal with. He asked me what I wanted. I told him a new license. "Watt? Wahz yo lizenz reevoked?" No, sir, I explained. I just simply want a new license. He grabbed my social security card out of my hand -- I am not exaggerating here -- and huffed away as he typed in my number. To my utmost surprise, my old Mississippi driver's license came up revoked on his fancy little computer... from some nonmoving violation near Jackson in the year 2000. I explained calmly that I wasn't even living here -- much less in f'n Jackson -- in 2000. I've been out of state for five years. He said, "You obviously were." I was starting to get hot when I looked him in the eye and said, "Sorry. I think I would know when I was or was not living somewhere." So, he gave me a phone number to call to talk to someone so I could pay my fine (which hell will freeze over for me to do, because it simply isn't my fine), have them mail me proof that the fine was paid, then fax that form to some office so it would show up on his fancy computer that I was all cleared. Then, I would have to pay a $25 reactivation fee, plus a $21 fee for a brand new license. Dammit, #2. When it comes down to it, all I really need is a state ID. My picture will be on it, as will my name. I can get a new driver's license by mail from Missouri. I won't be driving for the next few months anyway, so nyeh. So, I went back to Cajun the Cop and told him to screw getting a driver's license, I just needed to get a state ID. I asked if he knew where I could get one of those. "Yai. Yaw cain git dat heeya," he said in the snotty, "you're such a dumbass" way typical of Cajun people. Great. Give me one. I'm translating here because it's too late to keep writing in Cajun: "Do you have your birth certificate? No? Well, you need that! And do you have your proof of residency? No? Well, I can't give you an ID without these things." He said all of this without me getting in a word otherwise. But he was right about one thing. I don't have proof of residency. The only thing that I think might work is a bank statement from my mom's bank. She put both my sister's name and mine on it so, and I quote, "in case I die, y'all won't have to go through the court to get my money." On a side note, if my mom dies, expect a kickin' wake with open bar. So, tomorrow, I will go get the bank statement and try my luck again. I think I heard him say that the state ID will be $17. Dammit #3. Remember how I said my mom had met an Internet boyfriend? She went on her first date with him last Saturday. She seems like she had a good time, so that's good. He took her to a nice restaurant down on the Coast. I wish girls took guys out to super fine restaurants on first dates. There are really no incentives to continue on with the relationship after the first few dates to fancy restaurants. My mom has a swank deal. Beautiful woman among a sea of single guys. Free dinners a-plenty! Anyway, this guy... I never got to meet him because I went down to the coast the night of their date as well. But supposedly he was running late and didn't get a chance to stop in get flowers. But you know what he did instead? His signed a copy of his latest book with a nice note inside about how it will last longer than roses! Dude's a writer! And he has three best-selling books! Holy sweet mother of moses! If my mom doesn't date him for a long time, sign my ass up! Is it wrong to buy someone's CD just because they are hottt? Even if you don't really like her music? Because the picture they had on Stacie Orrico's promo poster made my mouth go gargle-gargle. But when I sampled her album, it sounded like a Christina Aguilera rip-off. And the only person I hate more than Christina Aguilera is Mariah Carey. So, I didn't buy it. But the question still remains: Should you buy an album just because the artist is hottt? Well, that's it for me for a Friday edition of me diary. I will be heading northward this weekend to spend a few days in Tennessee. I'm goin' to Graceland... Graceland... Memphis, Tennesee... Going to meet up with a friend -- the craziest former bartender west of the Mississippi. We are going to go watch the Peabody ducks, watch some live music on Beale Street, and drive as far around Graceland as we possibly can. There is not much of Elvis I have ever really liked. Except maybe the velvet paintings of him. Those are so tacky, they are hard to hate. I'll be back Sunday to write about another great trip coming up next week. Out of the two trips, I know that it is going to be the most fun. I can't wait to dish out the details. Proclaim the particulars! Communicate the callous qualities! Ok, ok. I'll stop practicing my alliteration on you. Have a great weekend. 11:27 p.m. - Thurs., May 15., 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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