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.