Monday, March 29, 2010

License Renewal

I think it's impossible to get fired if you work at a Government agency. Honestly, what are their standards? Once you get in, you're never taken out. Until you die. Or shoot up the building and your co-workers. Whichever comes first. (sometimes it's simultaneous.)
I realized on my last birthday that my license was about to I did my duty and went to the DMV. I walked into the DMV at 7:01 and I was still 10th in line. Our new fancy shmancy DMV has an automated system that assigns customers in order of arrival to the next DMV agent that would rather be eating arsenic covered beetles than pleasantly serve you. I wait in anticipation as the numbers in front of me are called and slooooooowly helped...and I wait. Oh, they just called #9... I'm next! I get my stuff together, wait on the edge of my seat and then it's announced... "Now serving #11 at station #5...." Wait a minute... I could swear 10 comes in between 9 and 11. But, then again, what do I know? I probably skipped school that day. I wait it out. They help 12, 13 and 14 and I decided to take matters into my own hands. I approach the DMV guy, tell him my number was never called. He informed me that it calls them in sequential order, so just wait my turn. Yeah, see, that's the problem. It calls in sequential order and my sequential was skipped, jerkface! He informed me it was impossible. I asked him, just for poops and giggles, if he could maybe check if a mistake had been made? Completely annoyed, he did check. And shockingly...a mistake had been made. He didn't phrase it that way, of course. The government makes no errors. He told me I would be called next. And I was... I got a lady whom I think was about 3 seconds from slitting her wrists. At least it seemed as though I was interrupting something that important. She reviews my application and then asks me if I wear glasses. I didn't answer her immediately. I just stared at her. Because of 2 reasons...
1. I had check marked the box on the application that said I was wearing glasses.
2. I was wearing glasses when she asked me that.

FINALLY... I was handed a temporary license with the following conversation...

Apathetic DMV Lady: "Here's your temporary license, your permanent one should arrive within two to three years."

Me: "Gee, I'll really be looking forward to that."

Apathetic DMV Lady: "Have a good day."

Yeah. 2 to 3 years. I assumed she meant 2 to 3 weeks because I overheard other people being told that. So I left.
Cut to me...still receiving no license in the mail more than a month later. 6 weeks later, actually. And as much as I wanted my permanent license, I was unwilling to contact the DMV. My temporary one was good for 6 months, so...I'll just wait it out. Not to worry, I finally *did* get my permanent license in the mail. Finally.

As her final revenge...the apathetic DMV lady took the absolute worst possible picture of me. I'm considering losing my license just to go get another picture.
But I don't think I could risk it. It could be on the day one of them finally decides to end it all. Government at it's finest!

Thursday, March 18, 2010


My bff Brandon and I frequently have email chats that I think others should be a part of. I've previously featured one on my blog last October, about the weather...or wezzer.

Today, I have to say...if you don't laugh at this...well then, there is no hope for you. The following is our conversation via email.

Lisa: Have you finished working on the time machine?

Brandon: I have. Only when I finished I realized I'd accidentally switched the instructions and baked a cake.

Lisa: And knowing how much I wanted a cake the other day, you still didn't bake me one????????

Brandon: Not to worry, it's Grandma's cake recipe. Next time she goes to make dessert, I'll send 3 Days Ago Lisa a piece.

Lisa: Past Lisa will be so grateful.

: Yay! Well Future Brandon says You're Welcome.

Lisa: That's really big of Future Brandon, considering Present Lisa castrates Present Brandon for not having the time machine finished.

Brandon: I'll have Grandma warn Past Brandon to hide.

Lisa: I think we should make a book of all of our conversations back and forth. Obviously no plot, probably will never make sense...but it would be entertaining.
This chapter would be called "Cake Off" and the title of the book would be "Besticles."

Brandon: I think you're onto something. We'll be RICH! Rich, I tell you!

Lisa: We'll be fabulously wealthy and laugh at all the little people. And by little people, I mean midgets.

We acknowledge the important place* in our society occupied by persons of small stature. We celebrate your uniqueness and defend your right to your dignity**. Nothing in this email should be taken as denigration of the vertically challenged***.

*and that place is between 0 and 3 1/2 feet from the ground. Bwahahaha!
**just like we hope you will defend our right to laugh, shorty
***unless you take "vertically challenged" to mean those poor suckers who can't get it up. THOSE people are FUNNY. Take that, limpy! And yes, that includes you, vertically challenged midgets. As people who don't discriminate against shorties, we strive to mock short limpies as ruthlessly as average and tall limpies.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Pot o' Gold

Happy St. Patrick's Day, Readers! As you know, this is the most important Holiday of the year. It's the only time you can demand that someone kiss you merely because you're Irish. And you don't even have to be Irish to use that line! Sure, you can use that line on other days of the year...but trust me, it doesn't go over well.

What I love about the world today is our ability to take anything noble, cherished, reverent...and turn it into a reason to get drunk, party and pinch anyone not wearing green. What started as a day to celebrate Saint Patrick for saving the Irish and converting them to Catholicism has turned into a day that we have a parade, celebrate leprechauns, search for a pot of gold, dye our rivers green and get smashing drunk on green beer. (others, not me.)

In any case, St. Patrick is definitely my favorite saint. Any guy who likes to wear green and get drunk and search for leprechauns in an effort to extort the location of their pot of gold out of them...he's an okay guy in my book. Sounds like we have similar interests and hobbies.

Lastly... My besticle and I were discussing blog writers. And I am convinced that I'd be far more hysterical if I was being paid to write blogs...and he said I should charge my readers. So, if you've read this, you're hosed. Here is his suggestion of what I should put on my blog to start making money... "I'm brilliant. You should be paying me to read my blog. That'll be $5, thank you."
I accept all major credit cards, cashier's checks and cash. No personal checks will be accepted... I know you people, you're shady. Oh, I will also accept skittles.

Kiss me, I'm Irish!

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Lisa, the grouch.

I’m kind of in a bad mood these days. I know that might shock everyone reading this because I have been sooooo sunny and chipper. But it’s true. Sorry to burst your bubble, folks.
Sure, we could say that I may need to start looking at the brighter side of things... the silver lining in every cloud... look at the glass half full... OR, we can find someone else to blame my pissy disposition on.
Without looking very far, I found the reason I’m less than thrilled with life. Actually, I found a lot of reasons. I’ll highlight a few here....

1. School zones and crosswalks.
Yes, you heard me. School zones. Crosswalks. Sure, I think kids need to learn. And a school seems like a good place to do that. But does this mean that there should be nine school zones on my way to work? No. Does this mean that no matter what route I take to work that I should have to drive behind 3 buses that make a stop every 12 feet? No. I think that the schools should be outside of the town where I’m not driving. That will eliminate the school zones. As for the frequent bus stops? Short of banning children from living in the areas around me and where I may or may not drive… the obvious solution is to let them fend for themselves. Not to be cruel, of course. But to help them. Really. I think it would build character for them to see the bus coming and then get a running start and toss their bag into the bus and then run a bit faster and jump in the bus! Can you imagine the adrenaline rush they’ll feel? The sense of accomplishment? What a way to start out their day! Plus, if they want to be a train hobo when they’re grown up, they already have some experience. As for the children who don’t make it into the bus? Well…consider it thinning the herd.

2. Walk for the Cure, i.e. Fundraising walks.
“They” are constantly telling me to participate in a walk to stomp out... insert any disease here. Now, while I can get behind this helping to raise awareness and money for research to find a cure... sometimes I think we’re stretching it a bit. Diabetes? Breast Cancer? AIDS? All of these, worthwhile endeavors. I wouldn’t personally participate, even though I find these to be worthy causes, because it violates the lazy code of ethics… but still, they are worthwhile. Some diseases that I don’t really think deserve a ‘Walk for the Cure’??? .....

Basophobia- the extreme fear of falling down. So debilitating that the sufferer may never get up. And if they don’t have to, why would I get up and walk for their cure?
Maple Syrup Urine Disease- among other symptoms, a burnt sugar smell to your urine. But as funny as that sounds, I do not recommend urinating on your pancakes and then consuming them.
Seasonal Affective Disorder- It’s winter... awww, boo. :(
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia- It’s not fun to say...mostly because I can’t... but, ironically, this is the medical term for the fear of long words. Cruel, much?
Proctalgia Fugax- which is a fleeting pain in the rectum. Yes, quite literally, a pain in the ass.

Again, I’ll happily support (cheer apathetically) a worthwhile walk for the cure fundraiser. But some of those diseases are reeeeeeally stretching it!

3. Daylight Savings time
For those of you who didn’t grow up in a state smart enough to opt out of Daylight Savings Time, guess what? It sucks. I know that you’ve always done it and you don’t know any better. But, it’s ridiculous. I don’t complain about it much in the Fall because, doi... we’re gaining an hour. An extra hour to sleep? I’m in!!! But then Spring rolls around and they want me to spring forward an hour? Lose an hour of sleep? Are you kidding me with this one, people? This year I am saying NO MORE. I’ll gladly fall back another hour if they’d like me to. But on Sunday, I will not be springing forward an hour. It’s time to take a stand. Who’s with me?!?!?!
Daylight Savings Time = Proctalgia Fugax.

Well, you can see, with the world out to get me, it's pretty tough to keep a cheerful outlook on life. After reading some of the problems plaguing me, I'm sure you're wondering how I get out of bed in the morning. It's not easy, I'll be honest. It's actually quite a proctalgia fugax. But, I persevere. I hope I can be an inspiration to all of you! If I can keep trying, so can you!