This made me laugh

...and then cry a little, on the inside.

Saturday's forecast from the National Weather Service website:

Saturday: Partly sunny. Slight chance of showers and thunderstorms. Cooler. Highs 98 to 103.

C-288

This was my number at the MVD today.
MVD: Morons Validating Drivers
Or, you know, the stupid southwestern version of the DMV.

I am now a legal vehicle owner/operator in the state of Arizona. Here is the list of the things I had to take the morning off to do:

1. Level II inspection on my car.
(Kristen kicks wall due to residual frustration. See previous post if you are scared and/or confused.)
2. Title.
(My car is finally in my name. I paid for it seven years ago, but at that time it was just easier to put it in my parents' names. No more! I'm now the proud owner of a lovely 1995 Ford Taur...oh, who am I kidding. My name is on the title of a hoopty with an actual list of things you have to know before you drive it. Pat, I will give you one dollar (and by one dollar, I mean a two-person-closed-fist-tap-turned-into-a-thumbs-up-from-2000-miles-away) if you can remember how many miles fast or slow my speedometer is.)
3. Registration.
(I had to pay them $80 in sales tax. This low number eased my hoopty laments.)
4. License plate.
From this:







To this:







5. Proof of insurance.
(I am fully and completely self-supporting now. Scary.)
6. Driver license.
(is it always called a driver license? I could swear it should be driver's license, plus or minus the apostrophe, but Arizona calls it a driver license. Singular. Huh.)

Basically, what all this boils down to is the fact that I had to spend nearly four hours going to two different buildings on opposite sides of the city, all so they could give me a lot of paperwork, a rectangular piece of metal to slap on the back of my car, and a driver license which, due to their creative printing process, makes me look like a crack whore. Neat.

From Bluetooth to Red Ross

See what I did there? With the colors?

Bluetooth:

"I love it when she calls my phone
She even got her very own ringtone
If that ain't love then I don't know what love is (ba ba da da)"

From:
Cupid's Chokehold
by Gym Class Heroes

Right, so I bought a Bluetooth USB adapter the other day so I could synch up my cool new Razr phone with this free song-editing software and make my own ringtones from songs on my computer. Every time my phone rings now, it makes me laugh, smile, and/or feel nostalgic, depending upon the person/song. Awesome.

Downside: So for my friend Kathy, I picked this clip from a Beck song that, if you know Kathy/Kyeathy/Keffy, you know it fits her to a T. However, when one day you forget to turn off your cell phone ringer at work and this ringtone comes blaring out as you're discussing neurosurgical illustration-type things with your boss, it can lead to some mild embarrassment. Fact.

Red Ross:

Ross: Okay, I know what I have to do. I've got to go Red Ross...Y'know, Red Ross!
Joey: I totally don't know what you're talking about.
Ross: Come on! The time we were all waiting in line for Dances With Wolves and that one guy cut in line in front of us and I just lost it?! Screamed at him! Turned all red! Red Ross!!

From:
The One With All the Rugby
by Friends

So I've spent the past four days in a mild panic trying to get my license plates and registration and car insurance and all that figured out before one of two things happens: a) my Nebraska plates expire, or 2) the Phoenix police give me a $300 ticket for failure to register my car in a timely manner. So I trek allllll the way to the scary ghetto West Phoenix MVD today (the only one open on a Saturday) to get my crap figured out. It was hot. It was insanely crowded. I was not pleased. So I sit in the inspection line to have them verify the VIN number on my car. Finally it's my turn. She checks the number on my dash. Then she wants to compare it to the number on the inside of my car door. Except there IS no number on the inside of my car door because the original door was smashed to heck when I wrecked it like six years ago and, apparently, the replacement door was VIN number-less. And, APPARENTLY, this all means that I have to take time off of work to go BACK to the MVD between the hours of 8am and 4pm, Monday through Friday, and have them do some kind of special inspection that I have to PAY for. No amount of explanation and syrupy sweetness would change the VIN-nazi's mind. I was thisclose to going all Red Ross on her. But I didn't. I said "thank you for your help" and managed to sound only slightly passive-aggressive slash sarcastic. I am a rock.

For the T-shirt Lover in You

Threadless.com = Funny shirts






And my personal favorite:

Chinese gum and YAAAAMS!

So my parents just got back from two weeks in China, where they mixed and mingled in a new culture and worked towards setting up a student exchange between the University of Nebraska at Kearney and a Chinese university. Their sojourn to this foreign nation afforded me some lovely little birthday presents, Chinese-style. No throwing stars or anything, but along with a fanfreakingtastic purse and wallet, they sent some Chinese candy. Alongside the peanut M&Ms with Chinese letters on the wrapper, there was this one mysterious gum-shaped package with pictures of coffee cups on it. Sure enough, it was coffee-flavored gum. I was intrigued.

I mean come on, coffee-flavored gum. Not exactly an intuitive combination. Usually you chew gum to get rid of the coffee breath. I remember my art teacher in high school, Mrs. Babbitt, she had the worst coffee breath you can imagine. She'd come over to critique a project and the students would automatically lean six inches in the opposite direction. We liked her anyway. Anyway.

After settling down comfortably on my couch, I unwrapped a stick and began chewing the tan-with-dark-brown-flecks stick of gum. Chew chew chew...chew........chew... Huh.

First thought: What the mother of crap is up with this stuff?? Oh God. Is it gum, is it food? What's the deal?

Then, as the initial burst of coffee flavor began to fade: Oh, it's nice. I think I'll have another one.

It kind of reminded me of this Dutch candy, Hopjes. (actually pronounced "(insert spit-rattling, phlegmmy-H noise here)uup-yas", but my Americano friend Kyeathy and I call them "Hop-jeez"). Hopjes are actually hard candies, but they taste the same.

As for the YAAAAMS! ("Oh Will. But you-you've worked so hard.") For the past few days, I've been smelling something a little...off...every time I'd walk towards my kitchen. I thought it might be the garbage can so I scrubbed it out and sprayed it with lysol and all...but still the smell persisted. Well, as I was searching through my ridiculously deep cupboards for a box of brown rice today, my hand encountered something...soft. Yeah. I had come across a six-week-old, liquefied sweet potato, still in it's little produce baggie. Um. Gross.

Five Things

I lied. Six.

1. As of today, I have officially lived in Phoenix for 8 weeks.
2. There are 12 books on my bookshelf that I have purchased but not yet read.
3. There are 17 dvds on my dvd shelf that I have purchased but not yet watched.
4. Pat saw Snakes on a Plane. Not fair. (although, clearly, if I don't get to see it in the theater then I can just buy it when it comes out on dvd...and not watch it.)
5. I want these shoes.













6. These shoes cost $2,200.00. It's ok. I had a heart attack, too. We can be myocardial infarction buddies.

The Circus Is Falling Down On It's Knees.

Blue. Birthday.
Adam Duritz knows. He knows.

I need:
a phone call
a rain coat
a big love
a plane ride
a sunburn

a phone call
a rain coat

So this is the first really lonely birthday I've spent. Don't get me wrong, you guys were so great and I appreciate the calls more than I can say. And everyone at work was so nice - they had cake and little gifts and flowers and things. We even went out for mexican food and margaritas after work. But you know how sometimes having a nice time with people who like you - as opposed to people who love you - just makes you think about how much you've left behind and what you don't have? ~sigh~ I miss you guys.

Love.

Phoenix Days and Talladega Nights

I think I actually have an AZ friend or two, you guys.

After seven weeks of doing things pretty much all on my own (i.e. movies, eating, shopping, reading, living, breathing, etc.), I finally went out on a Saturday and did stuff...WITH PEOPLE. Take that, SpendingSoMuchTimeByYourselfThatYouPhotoshoppedYourFriends
IntoAnOldBostonPhoto-Kristen!

So I'd heard good things about Talladega Nights and wanted to go see it. But how depressing is it to go see a stupid-funny movie by yourself? (I mean, something funny happens and what do I do? I look to my left. I look to my right. No one to laugh with. Sadness. Movie ruined. Nine dollars wasted.) So I decided to invite a couple friends from my office (and their respective spouses) to go see Talladega Nights on Saturday afternoon.

We saw the movie (funny stuff) and then grabbed some ice cream. The theater closest to my apartment is the downtown fancy cinema located in Arizona Center. It's a nice outdoor shopping area with pretty deserty-palm-tree type landscaping. So we ate our ice cream outside in this little park area and then splashed around in the walk-through fountain thingy they have and talked. Other than the fact that playing fifth wheel to two couples on a beautiful summer evening is pretty much emotional torment, I have to say - human contact: good for the soul.

I have a new cell phone - a mass e-mail with contact information is in the offing.

Love you guys.

What if...

my readers were members of the band Boston circa 1976?




PS - Heath, you in this picture? Yeah, totally what your dad must've looked like in the 70s.

Because Sometimes We All Need A Little Motivation

Read and be refreshed.












And my personal favorite...



Awesome.

Beantown*:

contains just the regular amount of beans, you guys.

So I spent this past Wednesday through Sunday in the wicked-cool city of Boston. If you didn't know that, one of two things is true:
A. You didn't read my last post.
-OR-
2. You read my last post but didn't get the photo references (in which case, I'll have Tommy come hit you on the head with a tack hammer because...well, you know). (by the way, the first - and best - photo shows up now on that post)

The AMI conference was held at the Cambridge Marriott - right next to MIT and all that good stuff. Pricey, sure. But these rooms were aMAYzing. I had a king sized bed all to myself. Every night I slept in a big X, just because I could. Here is a picture of me sitting on my gi-freaking-normous bed, studying for my certification exam whilst simultaneously watching the Simpsons on my widescreen, flat-panel tv. I'm not a fancy person - my family are Super 8, Holiday Inn Express, share-a-two-person-tile-floored-room-in-Florence-between-four-people-so-you-all-have-to-sleep-crosswise-on-the-full-sized-bed kind of people. It was an experience.



The view from my room. Yowza.



I got into Boston around 6am on Wednesday morning. I spent that whole day walking the Freedom Trail in the sweltering heat. It was 104 with crazy-high humidity. After a red-eye flight and six hours of walking around in that, I was not a pretty sight. It was really interesting though. You follow this red line on the sidewalk for like 2 1/2 miles and you see all these Revolutionary War sites. In the picture below you can kinda see the red line I followed (on the right). Directly behind me (so, not in the picture) is the church made famous by Paul Revere - where they flashed the "One if by land, Two if by sea" lanterns.



Old Ironsides (USS Constitution)



The conference itself was really good. Lots of discussions and workshops and idea sharing. One of my illustrations won an award in the Salon - kind of a big deal, so that was exciting. I also got to see some of my classmates and friends, which was nice after six weeks of relative solitude.

So anyway. Boston gets high marks in Kristen's Grande Tome of Top Notch Cities. Verily.

Oh, and I thought the Borders in Phoenix was fancy. Check THIS one out.
Ho. Lee. Cre-ap.





*Beantown refers to early Bostonian merchants' habit for making baked beans with imported molasses. Thank you, Wikipedia.

Where In The World

am I going to be until Sunday?
(2 points if you're singing, humming, and/or fondly recalling the "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" theme song.)







I am willing to bet that, out of all of you, only Pat knows how the last one fits in.