DMV vs. MVD

Here in Arizona they have a Motor Vehicle Department. Back in the old world(Maine, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire) we had the DMV (cue scary background music). You went there and if you were lucky you would emerge three hours later with a piece of paper telling you to come back next Tuesday with three forms of identification and the title to your house.

So today James and I set out to become licensed Arizona drivers. We were supposed to do this when we became "residents" but we didn't, because that would mean going to the DMV, and that is bad. But now we had to go, because our car needed to be registered.

All in all, the whole experience wasn't that bad. We had a "vehicle inspection" that consisted of the man observing that we did in fact have a car, that the car had a VIN, and that VIN had not been reported stolen. Then we went inside, filled out a short form, didn't even really have to wait, and got two drivers licenses and one car registration all at the same counter. My picture wasn't even that bad. Clearly the MVD wins over the DMV.

But this is the best part. My license doesn't expire until my sixty-fifth birthday!! They're like, yup, Maine says you know how to drive, and you seem to be able to see large shiny objects, go ahead and keep driving for another forty years. We won't even try to extort any more money out of you. That will be $25 for forty years.

On Cheese, Chalk, and a Beard

South Park Episode #105 - The South Park boys go to visit Mr. Mephesto at his genetic engineering ranch. They are looking around. They see four assed monkeys and bunnies spliced with fish.

MR. MEPHESTO: And over here is swiss cheese spliced with chalk... and a beard. The boys look at the bearded swiss cheese with chalk.

Establishing shot: Heather's kitchen. Zoom in on shopping list on fridge.

• Wood screws
• Postage Stamps
• Applesauce

My thought processes, and to some extent my life, are like Mr. Mephesto's creatures. The point of this blog is to have no cohesive theme, no cause to champion, no exhaustive reference on a subject. Just your good old chalk, cheese, and a beard.

blah blah blog

So I'm still warming up to the blogging idea. I mean, who doesn't love a blog? My friends, my parents, and my boss can all read my most intimate thoughts. My boss can even see I posted them at work. (Don't worry, I have PDF's batch processing). Anyway, I think I'm still in the self-conscious phase of blogging.

I start my first class at the University of Arizona today. I actually work there as a webmaster for the psychology department. I'm taking Calculus 2 because you only ever realize after you've left college you should have taken hard, useful classes. I haven't touched a math book in six years, so this should be interesting at the very least.

Anyway, my batch process doesn't seem to be working, so I'm off to attend to that.

This is my desk. I made it myself.

Everyone should own a hacksaw

Dad: Do you have a hacksaw?
Heather: Why would I have a hacksaw?
Dad: Everyone should own a hacksaw.

My dad is a carpenter, and quite a good one. Throughout the years he's tried to impart his construction knowledge and various tools to me. When I was four we built my first toolbox and he gave me my very first hammer. I now posess a bucket of tools a vague knowledge of how things get built.

The point of all this is I built a desk. I called dad, and he gave me about 6 different plans for building a desk with the 2'x3' piece of 5/8" plywood I bought at a yard sale. I settled on the 2x4 box method, and voila, a desk for me. The nice people at Lowe's will actually cut your wood to the right lengths with a relatively high degree of accuracy. So really, my dad told me how to make a desk, the people at Lowe's made all the pieces, and I nailed it together. I'm absurdly proud of myself for this achievement, just like last time I nailed a few boards together and called it furniture. Total cost $13.

Oh god, now I've done it

Blogging. It's the new thing. You write everything about your life as though other people might actually care, and by some fluke, some other people actually do care and read it. I've been resisting blogging for a few reasons. 1) I figured no one would care 2) I talk too much already 3) There are already too many people in the world who confuse having an inner monologue with the ability to write something interesting.

So why I am now starting a blog? Because I can. Because I don't care if no one cares, because I might as well write too much rather than talk too much, and because I happen to think my inner monologue really IS more interesting than everyone else's. What will I write about? God only knows. Who will read it? Hopefully no one.

So welcome, my imaginary crowd of adoring fans with RSS feeds to keep up to date on every detail of my life. Don't expect too much.