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April 22, 2003. DMV = 2, KarinaJean = 0 Well,
They got me again, and managed to destroy my famed “patience of a saint.” I
had to renew my driver’s license, I realized on Saturday as I was (ahem)
driving down to Atlantic City that it had expired on my birthday, and that I
had never renewed it. Yikes! So today, like a responsible citizen (but I
guess not a citizen so responsible I stopped driving my car this weekend) I
went down to the License Express DMV location near Penn Station. The License
Express is Express. It’s great, and I was excited to get a chance to go
there! But after my 10 minutes of standing in line, paying people, and having
my picture taken were over, well, I found out that they could not give me my
new license because my old one? Was RESTRICTED. Yikes.
Here’s the back-story: NYS absolutely positively requires you to turn in your
plates after canceling your insurance. It’s a good idea, I guess, it keeps
cars off the road that shouldn’t be on there. The penalty is either a fine,
or suspension of your license. Except I have a sneaking suspicion that people
who don’t want turn in their plates because they want to use them for their
own nefarious purposes don’t really care if their licenses are suspended. I
think the scofflaws who go around slapping expired plates on stolen cars and
driving them at risk to life, limb, and societies general happiness don’t
really worry that they’re about to get picked up for driving with a suspended
license. OK,
so in early 2001 my brother trades some speakers for a car for me. I insure
it and when we pick it up, we realize it’s really truly broken. Like, it
needs a new engine. So I cancel the insurance and my brother forgets to turn
in the plates. Long story short, even though the car doesn’t run, and is off
the road, and even though my sister uses the broken car as a trade-in when
she buys her new car, NYS doesn’t care and my license is suspended for 117
days. Luckily I use public transportation almost exclusively. I did write two letters to
George Pataki, which honestly, crack me up. They are so funny. So they’re
linked for your enjoyment and also because they provide a very concise and
well written (if I say so myself) timeline of events. (I derive a bizarre joy
from writing letters to people like this. I mean, “Frankly, I am
dismayed.” !!! So funny. Maybe someday I’ll share with
y’all the fantastic letter I wrote to my landlord…) So,
anyway, after all of that, after having slipped through the cracks and been
ignored by the governor and sadly, discredited by the DMV, I find that once
again, I have slipped through the cracks. My restriction had not ever been
removed from my license so I had to walk the looong walk over to the other
DMV office, stand in the line outside that wrapped around the block and wait
for them to open, wait in another line, get a ticket, see someone in
“enforcement” (where can I get a title like that? “I’m Karina Jean, and I’m
in Enforcement.” Cool.), and in less than 5 minutes they had cleared
everything up and renewed my license for me. It was so easy, it’s a shame
they couldn’t have done it right the first time. OK,
so until now I’ve always maintained that the DMV was full of mostly
courteous, professional, and competent people. I don’t know that this is the
rule. Every actual real life person I speak to is a courteous and competent
professional, but somehow I have been tripped up twice. I’m choosing to
believe here that there are malfunctioning robots behind the scenes at the
DMV, like Rosie from the Jetson’s only really really slow and stupid, and
that’s the reason I keep having these weird problems. Like, you know, when
R2D2 tries to hack into the Death Star computer and gets zapped. That’s
what’s going on in the State of New York Department of Motor Vehicles. The
only that frustrates me once I come to this realization is the fact that I
have to make out my checks to “The Commissioner of the Department of Motor
Vehicles” personally. That’s just not right. |
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April 21, 2003. My but it’s been a long time! While
I’ve been goofing off with the glamour of environmental engineering, it’s
SPRING! And, also, I have turned 26 years old. Amazing. A birthday story: When
we moved here from Tennessee I was the new kid, and I was (and am) very very
shy. It’s a big surprise to everyone now, because I fake it pretty good, but
I was so nervous about being the new kid, and having people over for my
birthday. I can’t remember exactly what I wanted to happen, but I wanted to
have a great party, and have an outdoor part, with the good smelling lilac
bush and the cottonwood trees and green green grass. I wanted it to be a
magical outdoors experience. So, I was waiting for people to come over for
the party and I noticed something. It was snowing. Snowing! April 15, and it
snows. Welcome to the northeast! That’s the way it is around here, I guess.
Stinkers. So
I wasn’t surprised when it started snowing a couple of weeks ago. Welcome to
the northeast! Where Mother Nature likes to tease us a little with good warm
beautiful sunny weather, and then drop some snowfall on us. (A good thing
about the snow was that parking rules were suspended and I didn’t have to
move my car!) An Easter story: So
usually I don’t do much for Easter. I have in the past had people over for
Easter egg fun, boiling dozens and dozens of eggs and setting up an egg-dying
table, raiding the neighbors garbage for paper to put down under the vinegary
paas kits. At cooper we had a big “Spring” dinner one Easter, wherein we had
14(?) people at the dinner table and we ate and ate and laughed and ate. It
was fun, and also hard to find seating for everyone. This year, I went back
to Brigantine to spend the evening with
Dad and Maggie. It was fun, they’re staying at a timeshare on a very
different part of Brigantine than I saw. It’s grassier, more houses, and on
the ocean side. I can’t understand how Brigantine stays so small town while
the only car access is directly through Atlantic City. It doesn’t make any
sense. Although, a fellow from the condo who saw us in church on Easter
assured us that Brigantine was a very Catholic community, and actually, so
Catholic that if all of the Catholics came to church they’d have to build 3
or 4 more. Paul
Harvey officiated over Easter Mass. No, really. The priest had a deep
sonorous voice that boomed out, and his elocution? Full stops in the middle
of sentences just like Paul Harvey. I honestly was waiting for him to end the
homily with “and now you know…. The rest. Of the story.” He didn’t, though.
Maybe because the Easter story isn’t too esoteric, and most people attending
church on Easter Sunday already know the rest. Of the story. Then
in the spirit of Easter we went to Atlantic City and walked on the boardwalk.
It was lots of fun, and early early morning is the best time of all to hit
the Atlantic City scene. As in, not too many people. And I am still shocked
by people smoking indoors! After
AC I drove up to my Beau’s Parent’s house for dinner, which was very nice.
And I made a cake which seemed to go over very well. I think the cake is
super-fantastico, a flourless chocolate cake with a chocolate cream topping
and mini-chocolate Easter eggs floating on the chocolatly “nest.” It is a
wonderful Nigella Lawson creation. That woman is so fine. And what a good
cook! The cake
is from the NYTimes, and I don’t know how long the link will last but I
do think you should all read the “At my table” column every week because the
way the woman writes about food is an inspiration. She alone is well worth
the free registration required for viewing the NY Times. A story about my nephew: My
brother used to date a woman who once had a dog named Sweetness. This dog was
a wiry little boxer/pitt bull kind of dog, all coiled muscle and beautiful
eyes. She was a sweet sweet pup. My nephew loved standing out in the yard and
yelling “Sweetness! Sweetness!” It’s better if you imagine my nephew with a
high-pitched baby voice and a habit of dragging out the vowels in the word so
it sounded more like “Sweeeeeaaaaatnaaaaas!” The Crafty void in my
life: *
Making use of the fun great wonderful beautiful embroidery patterns I have. *
Finishing dad’s Christmas mittens! And Maggie’s Christmas scarf! I am A Bad
Gift Giver. *
Cooking at home more, and not eating out as much. *
Making socks! I have so much sock yarn and even the right size needles. I
have good instructions for using the self patterned yarn. But do I have
socks? No. *
Sewing aprons from my cool “how
to get a husband” fabric. It’s neat and ironic. I love it. *
Knitting the Sitcom
Chic cardigan from Knitty. Because I need it! Really! Plus, all of my
other cardigans are falling apart. Especially in the elbows. The Book I’m reading: “Woman: An Intimate
Geography” by Natalie Angier. It is so fantastic and interesting, like taking
a tour of my woman parts. I have learned so many cool things that I had no
idea about. The author is a science writer for the NYTimes and does a
fantastic job tearing down our preconceived feelings about our bodies, based
on old scientific theories since disproved, and rebuilding the concept of
"woman" as an evolutionary gem. This book goes on my list of books
that all women should read. Um, maybe it won’t be so
long until next time? Maybe? |
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April 8, 2003. Tony Danza Lives! Pictures for You! Here
is a big catchup entry: The
end of March weekend was the northeast glitterati retreat! Pictures are here. It was superfantastico
fun, we rented a house very near Atlantic City and will stayed for the
weekend, crafting, enjoying our gas fireplace and deck and bay-side view.
And, Tony Danza was appearing at the showboat on Saturday night, and I think
it’s safe to say that it was the closest I’ll ever come to him. We didn’t go,
of course, because it was $35 and Atlantic City was scary. Not so much scary,
but weird and creepy. Like the extra-oxygenated air really spaced me out, but
didn’t distract me enough from noticing the casinos weren’t as fun and
glamorous as I think they should be. I mean, if you’re building a whole
culture (“America’s Playground!”) on gambling and showgirls and Miss America
and big boxing matches, well, I think it should be a little glitzier. It’s
cheap to make things look very outlandish and luxurious, and they could have
gone that much further with the window-dressing. In my opinion. It’s
really hard to plan a get-together, actually. Everyone sort of vaguely wants
to come, so you try to impress on them the importance of really truly coming.
And then some people back out, other people confirm. So you make
reservations, start to collect money, and actually put a deposit down. And
then more people, confirmed people, back out. It’s terrible. Stressful. You
can’t make anyone happy. The cost goes up. Luckily, however, the people who
can go are usually sweet and cool and ok with that kind of thing. At least,
that’s what happened for us! I
went to Pittsburgh last weekend to scope out the town and the school. It was
very very good. I enjoyed it a lot. I learned muchly. I foresee big
life-changes for me… And it’s scary, too. I am excited to move but at the
same time when I’m really tired and let down my guard I get very nervous
about actually moving. About moving so far from my friends, and so much
further from my family. About going into debt. But I’m young, right? So even
if this isn’t the right decision, and I honestly am sure it is (unless I’m on
an airplane and I just finished a good novel and I’m feeling really tired and
vulnerable), I’m young and this is the best time to make wrong decisions.
It’ll all be just fine. I
still don’t understand the reasons people move, outside of the standard
moving for a job, or for a school. I feel like I am moving for not exactly
the right reasons, but I can’t figure out what the right reasons would be. Is
it to be near other people you love? Is it because you need a change? You
like the weather somewhere else better? You can’t afford where you’re living
now? I
guess I think that people don’t move when they’re happy already. They move
because they need to improve something, like their job, or their
relationships with other people. They want to fix something that’s wrong. But
that makes moving seem so terrible. You’re doing it because you HAVE to.
Because you can’t stand the way things are now. I don’t like to think of it
like that – I want to go into a move feeling very positive and excited about
things, enthusiastic about what the future may bring me. And,
if you’ve made it this far, here’s an extra special bonus tip! Go to the Photo’s page. It’s updated! I won’t get any more google
hits for “photos peeing behind,” which makes me a little sad, but, pictures
for you! |
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