The DMV

My third trip to the DMV should have been successful. My purse was bursting with papers stating that I am the person I say I am. I had my passport, marriage certificate, an official letter from the social security office, my driver's license, WA registration, proof of insurance, a pay stub, and credit card bill (with my current address). You would think that this coupled with $200 would have gotten me what I wanted. But, my first trip to the DMV had already foretold that things like this don't come easy.

My first trip to the DMV was at the tail end of a long line of errands. I pulled into the parking lot and noticed a sort of exodus happening from the building. Someone walked to the door and made movements like they were locking the place up. This baffled me, because my clock said it was only 5pm and I clearly remembered writing that they would be open until 5:30pm on a lime-green post-it note that I stuck neatly upon my desk at home. So, I came home and decided to investigate this discrepancy. I had indeed written 5:30pm as the closing time for the DEQ, not the DMV.

On second trip to the DMV, I had all my ducks straight in a row, or so I thought. I had gone over the on-line DMV checklist several times and had even conferred with Dave about needing to bring anything else. He suggested that I bring a pay stub. So, I brought one along for good measure. I walked in and was summoned immediately to the counter where the helpful people sit. It took the man less than 1min. to dash all my hopes of getting anything accomplished within that trip. He looked at my pay stub with contempt and spelled out for me the specifics of what they were looking for as "proof" of my identity and residence. I left with yet another checklist of things to bring.

One obvious thing I had neglected to bring with me on my second trip was the title of the vehicle. I've owned the car since 2002, but I don't actually know what the title looks like. I have one--someplace. I looked for it. I thought I had found it. I drove back to the DMV, with all my documents and strode up to the counter. The helpful man at the counter was a bit feistier than I was in the mood for. He told me that the document in my hand was not my title, but rather another registration form. I sighed and asked, "Does it at least look like a title?" He hesitated and it seemed to me that he was processing whether or not I was jesting with him. I wasn't. He arrived upon the conclusion that I was. We came to an impasse and I was not happy with the feisty man posing as someone helpful. I got in my car and drove back home.

I don't feel like an intelligent being right now. I feel as though I should have a dunce hat sat upon my head. It should be my task to guard a doormat and keep it from a life of crime. How hard is it to get a driver's license and plates in the state of OR? What level of intelligence does it require?

Sewing in July

Sewing in July is thought to be good luck in Ireland. It is said that if you sew two things during the month of July your luck doubles. I made that up. But, honestly I did sew two things in July. Here they are:

a. a purse I sewed and embroidered (pattern from Bend the Rules of Sewing)

b. a skirt I sewed from old pajama pants, my high school graduation dress, a t-shirt, and a pair of pants from goodwill (pattern from a skirt I bought at Saturday Market)