Yesterday, my mom and I went to the MVA together. Here’s how that went.
After waiting for two hideous hours:
Mom: Hi, we want to transfer the car title from me to my daughter.
MVA Rep: You don’t have the same last name. You need proof of relation if you don’t have the same last name.
Mom: Yes, I’m sorry, we didn’t realize that until we got here. But we were hoping, since her middle name is my last name, and that’s all written out on her driver’s license, and also because the address on the car title is the same as her home address, that might work as proof?
MVA Rep: But you don’t have the same last name.
Mom: That’s correct.
MVA Rep (To me): Why is your name different?
Me: Huh? Because my last name is my Dad’s—
MVA Rep: Are you married?
Me: Yes, but—
MVA Rep: Oh, so your name changed when you got married.
Me: No. This has always been my name.
MVA Rep: Always since you got married?
Me: No. Always.
MVA Rep: So you’re not married?
Me: No, I am married—
MVA Rep: Do you have your marriage license?
Me: Uh, no, why would I need my—
MVA Rep: To confirm your name change.
Me: But I didn’t change my name when I got—
MVA Rep: Hold on, now I’ve got to go look up your marriage license in the computer.
(Walks away for incredibly long amount of time.)
MVA Rep (Finally coming back): Well, we don’t have your marriage license in the computer.
Me: Right. Okay, but I’m sorry, what I’m trying to say is that it wouldn’t matter whether or not you all had my marriage license, because that has nothing to do with my name.
MVA Rep: So you’re not married?
Me: No, I am, but—
MVA Rep: If you’re not married, I have to look up your birth certificate.
(Starts to walk away again.)
Mom: Wait, but on her birth certificate, my last name is different than it is now. Does that matter?
MVA Rep: Your name doesn’t matter. Her name needs to match yours.
Mom: I’m sorry? My name on the birth certificate doesn’t matter, or—
MVA Rep: No. I’m checking her birth certificate. Your name doesn’t matter.
Mom: But my name needs to match hers?
MVA Rep: Correct.
Mom: But my name doesn’t matter?
MVA Rep: Correct. I have to go look up her birth certificate.
(Walks away for incredibly long amount of time. Again.)
MVA Rep (Finally coming back. Again.): We don’t have her birth certificate either. You’ll need to come back.
Mom: Okay, so it doesn’t matter that her middle name is the same as my last name?
MVA Rep: Let me show you something. You see how your last name starts with a “C” and you see how your last name starts with an “F,” they’re not the same last name.
Mom: We understand that we don’t have the same last name.
MVA Rep: So, since she’s not married—
Me: I am married!
MVA Rep (Completely unfazed): You need to bring in her birth certificate. Next!
What a stellar outing. Mom and I can’t wait to do this all over again next week.
Inauguration Day is here, and it’s time to celebrate our nation’s first orange president with appropriately Trump-themed fashion! With the help of Adobe Photoshop, I’ve thrown together some fresh looks you can sport to usher in the coming Dark Age in style!
By Ann & Emily
Ahhhh, guess what?! Our rockin’ graphic designer, Emily, did a webcomic makeover of my Late Night Chats post. This is the first installment…
Webcomics and Emily for the win!!
What you will need:
pills for the cat
Anxiety: Hey, bud, wanna think about the fuuuuuture?
Me: No. It’s 1:30am.
Anxiety: That’s the perfect time to think about the fuuuuuture, when everyone else is asleep and no one can hear you scream.
Me: Come on, Anxiety, this is a played out trope. We don’t have to do this. Mix things up. You could be on my side this time?
Anxiety: I am on your side, buddy! I just want what’s best for you.
Me: Okay. Great.
Anxiety: And what’s best for you is considering all the ways everything you’ve ever done or not done could come back to destroy you.
Me: I’ve got an idea. Let’s focus on deep breathing: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. 6, 5, 4, 3, 2—
Anxiety: I’ve got another idea. Everyone you’ve ever loved is going to die.
Me: Oh, come on!
Anxiety: What? I don’t want them to. I’m just saying, they definitely will. Every single one. That’s the circle of life, you know.
Me: Yeah, okay. Probably not for awhile, though.
Anxiety: Well, you don’t know that. They could die any time.
Me: They probably won’t.
Anxiety: That’s arbitrary optimism. Life is a hideous soup of chaos. You could wake up tomorrow and one of your parents could have died in the night.
Me: I don’t think that’s—
Anxiety: What would you do without your parents? That would be so traumatic.
Me: We don’t have to think about this right now.
Anxiety: You’ll have to think about it sometime. There’s no way your parents will outlive you. Unless…!
Me: Do we have to jump to—?
Anxiety: You could die, too. At any time. You could be walking outside and BAM, TREE BRANCH TO THE HEAD! That could kill you, you know.
Me: I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Anxiety: Remember, hideous chaos soup.
Me: I know it’s not impossible. Just, statistically speaking—
Anxiety: Oh, you want to talk about the most statistically likely ways to die? I know lots about that. Heart disease, cancer… you could get hit by a car! Do you know how dangerous driving is? If you die young, that’s probably how you’ll die.
Me: Well, I really can’t control that, so let’s just hope it’s quick and that’s the end of that, okay?
Anxiety: Okay, you’re right. Let’s focus on things you can control. Since you could die at any time, I hope you’re satisfied with how you’re living each and every day. Would you say that you’re 100% satisfied?
Me: No one is 100% satisfied.
Anxiety: Someone better than you is.
Me: Okay. Settle down.
Anxiety: I can’t settle down. Every second you’re lying here not working on your goals is another second all your dreams could die.
Me: I should sleep now, so I can do better work tomorrow.
Anxiety: Sounds like quitter-talk to me, but if that’s what quitter-you thinks is best…
Me: I do think that’s what’s best. So just shut up, okay? You’re not helping. Shut up.
Anxiety: Hey, what time is it?
Me: I don’t care.
Anxiety: Wow, now it’s past 2am. That’s a lot of time you’ve just been lying here.
Me: I’m doing my best.
Anxiety: Lying here doing nothing…
Me: I’m trying to sleep!
Anxiety: Tick tock, motherfucker.
Me: Stop it. STOP IT. Deep breathing: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. 6, 5, 4—
Anxiety: Pretty sure you’re supposed to count to 8.
Me: It doesn’t matter what I count to. 1, 2, 3—
Anxiety: Did I mention everyone you love could die?
Me: That’s it. I’m playing goddamn Candy Crush.