Stream of Consciousness

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Collar bones, smart asses & the bureaucratic process

Small but significant non-scale related skinny moments:

  • My favorite pair of black work pants is now akin to wide-leg trousers. (Thanks to Kate Moss for making them “in” yet again.)
  • I have collarbones! I can see them! And they are cute!
  • When I suck in my tummy, it actually goes inward instead of simply going flat.
  • Rings that used to fit only on my pinky now sit comfortably on my ring finger.

I’m trying really, really hard to learn to bite my tongue. Participating in larger blog communities invites a lot of praise AND criticism. I’m well aware that everyone who reads something I post won’t agree with me, and that is completely fine. However, I’d appreciate that if you do leave a negative comment you say something constructive instead of simply referring to me (and all of my peers) as smart asses.

The sheer amount of detail-oriented things that need to be thought about on a day-to-day as an adult continues to blow me away. To update my car’s registration and get my own insurance required carefully coordinated power-of-attorney forms, which then allowed the title to be changed to my name. And the car was registered in my name, so that I could get my own insurance. This process also apparently required getting new license plates, which meant that I couldn’t apply for my school parking permits until I got the new plate number. And at some point within the next 10 days it needs to be inspected, back in the state it’s registered. Holy shit, what a process! I don’t whether to scream at the sheer bureaucracy of it or call my daddy and cry for him to take care of it like he’s always done. Probably neither, I suppose.

And I leave you with this:
I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. (Gilda Radner)

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