DMV days

I have just discovered the secret to the DMV: knitting. If you've got plenty of knitting to do, then, rather than fuming over the wasted time, you can sit in chairs la-la-la working on a foofy hat.

Actually, I think the whole DMV situation has improved dramatically, since they got the whole chairs-and-numbers routine set up. I clearly remember standing in a line at the SF DMV, sweating and counting how many lines were open and how many people were ahead of me, and my head would just start to pound.

Most of the other people in chairs with me today seemed to be pretty mellow as well. Though none had the "I hope I finish this row before they call me" attitude of mine.

The lady who graded my test was in a really good mood, too. She complimented me on my Frida Kahlo earrings, and we talked about Frida. I almost failed my exam, because the alcohol-level law is .08, not .1

But now, I am once again a licensed California driver, and I even got my same driver's license number, since my old California ID only expired 2 years ago.

Even our car--la caja de amor-- is now registered. Well, interim-registered. Still need the smog check.