Snowmobile
Wiping the snow off your car - yeah, nobody told me about that. Ice scraping - yes, snow-wiping -no. Especially cumbersome when one is 5'4'' and the vehicle in question is an SUV. And the snow - it doesn't blow off once you start driving, even if that drive is on the highway.
In related news, I got my car registered today. I also got my new Illinois driver's license. I had to take a written test, which I passed despite of my confusion over the many state DUI license suspension questions that were given. I mean really, DUI = bad. Do we really need five variants of the same question on a 25 question test? 'All of the above' turned out to be a good answer for those questions.
So then it was on to the dreaded picture-taking station. I was worried and a little irritable because I have this gigantic bug bite thing on my forehead. It looks like I ran into a door. Seriously. Make-up did not cover it and I was seething the entire morning thinking I am going to have to spend the next 10+ years of my life with a frighten-small-children license photo. It didn't help that I spent the last five years with a picture boasting a sporty double chin that I just KNOW the lady that took the photo did on purpose* - she kept telling me to lower my chin - like five times.
Finally I just gave in, I mentally accepted the fact that I will be disfigured in my photo - this was mainly because I was overdressed and had been in and overheated building for two hours and was ready to just get it over with.
They called my name, I scribbled my signature down, took a seat lumping all of my belongings - jacket, purse, scarf, license plate I'd been lugging all over the place from the vehicle services department where I spent the first half of the morning - below my feet. I looked at the camera, as instructed, and smiled. I saw the camera click so, thinking that was it, I started to close my mouth and look down to pick up my stuff. Then, it flashed.
Great. Just great.
The good news is you can't see the giant red hump on my forehead in the picture. Instead I look quite perturbed. I described the look on my face to Mike this way: It's as if someone has just attempted to tell me a really bad and really annoying joke.
At least I am laughing when I look at my license this time instead of mentally spitting on a Louisiana DMV lady.
*I was not so pleasant on that trip to the DMV in La. due to a gigantic miscommunication issue between them and my dealership that left me with a flag on my license.
In related news, I got my car registered today. I also got my new Illinois driver's license. I had to take a written test, which I passed despite of my confusion over the many state DUI license suspension questions that were given. I mean really, DUI = bad. Do we really need five variants of the same question on a 25 question test? 'All of the above' turned out to be a good answer for those questions.
So then it was on to the dreaded picture-taking station. I was worried and a little irritable because I have this gigantic bug bite thing on my forehead. It looks like I ran into a door. Seriously. Make-up did not cover it and I was seething the entire morning thinking I am going to have to spend the next 10+ years of my life with a frighten-small-children license photo. It didn't help that I spent the last five years with a picture boasting a sporty double chin that I just KNOW the lady that took the photo did on purpose* - she kept telling me to lower my chin - like five times.
Finally I just gave in, I mentally accepted the fact that I will be disfigured in my photo - this was mainly because I was overdressed and had been in and overheated building for two hours and was ready to just get it over with.
They called my name, I scribbled my signature down, took a seat lumping all of my belongings - jacket, purse, scarf, license plate I'd been lugging all over the place from the vehicle services department where I spent the first half of the morning - below my feet. I looked at the camera, as instructed, and smiled. I saw the camera click so, thinking that was it, I started to close my mouth and look down to pick up my stuff. Then, it flashed.
Great. Just great.
The good news is you can't see the giant red hump on my forehead in the picture. Instead I look quite perturbed. I described the look on my face to Mike this way: It's as if someone has just attempted to tell me a really bad and really annoying joke.
At least I am laughing when I look at my license this time instead of mentally spitting on a Louisiana DMV lady.
*I was not so pleasant on that trip to the DMV in La. due to a gigantic miscommunication issue between them and my dealership that left me with a flag on my license.
posted by lauren at 5:17 PM
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