Proof of Identification, Please

Did you know that your drivers license won't expire for eight years now?  Yes, eight whole years~!  I don't know about you but that is a lot of pressure to take a good photo. 

I took some practice shots before I headed to the Florida DMV today.  A girl has gotta try to look her best, right? 

This was my best trial photo:

But here is how the photo actually turned out:

Oh, you don't have to say it.  The Florida weather has been kind to me since I moved here in October 2009.  I'm quite pleased with how I look these days.

But back to the I.D. topic --

To obtain your drivers license, all you need to do is submit the following:
--birth certificate
--social security card
--stool sample
--marriage certificate, if married
--blood drops
--utility bill showing residence
--home or rental bill
--hair sample (bald guys, you still have to come up with one - use your imagination~)
--bra size
--dates of your last menstral cycle (girls) or last time you whacked off (boys)
--passport
--a phone call from the first boy or girl you ever kissed
--a receipt from your last grocery visit
--gum wrapper
---three wet, green boogers and
--fifty-five dollars

Yes, that's all you need.  I was so happy to provide all those things to my local DMV.  Especially since I wouldn't have to worry about my license for another eight years. 

And I was so proud of myself for having all my documentation in order too.  I had the sheets organized and ready to hand-deliver to Debbie, the DMV file clerk.  Debbie surprisingly looked like a disgruntled, younger sister of the actress Lauren Bacall.  Not your typical miserable state worker but she was tough.  I bet Debbie just works there for the sheer laughter and kicks of the public. 

After all, I think the DMV is a good match for the characters I described in the New Year's Eve visit to the hospital.  The folks I saw earlier today were no match for the previously mentioned people named Rock Jock, Bleeding Bob and Crazy Lady of the West Florida Hospital ER. 

No, today I feared for my life when I saw a man that could've easily been Buffalo Bill's twin brother.  And I don't mean the guy from the wild, wild west either.  If you don't know who Buffalo Bill is, from The Silence of the Lambs film, then let me show you his scary mug:

See what I mean?  You would've been creeped out sitting there in the same room with him too. I feared that I was going to either be murdered or eaten to death.  Not long after I spotted Buffalo Bill, this couple came walking through the door, looking hungry.  Let's refer to them as "Pie Petersons".  They looked as if they had just finished eating a dozen or more pies in a contest at the local state fair.  Sounds pretty, this place, doesn't it?

The good news is that I was only in that office for thirty minutes.  You heard me.  Just thirty minutes.  Ya see, here in the great state of Florida, they make appointments at the DMV.  I thought it was a joke at first.  But sure enough.  I've lived in Louisiana, Ohio and Alabama.  They never took appointments in those states and I've always waited in line or in a chair for at least two hours.  So this was such a nice and refreshing change.

I had no idea of all the federal and state regulations that have changed when it comes to renewing/changing/ or obtaining your drivers license.  In addition to the extension of your license being good for eight years, the Highway patrol is requiring a lot more documents.  You also receive a star on your photo i.d. if you're in full compliance with the law and could prove you are who you say you are.  Debbie told me that this is being done to crack down on illegal immigrants obtaining false identification and also to decrease chances of identity theft.  I hope she's right. 

One lady didn't make the cut while I was in there chatting with Debbie though.  Let's call her "Trailer Tessa" since I think she walked straight over from the local RV campgrounds.  She was crying and causing a big scene at the front entrance about Florida making it difficult for her to obtain a license.  Her skinny, toothless boyfriend was hanging onto her with their nearly newborn baby. 

I don't know what documents she was missing as it was difficult to make out her words through her soap opera star practiced tears.  The whole scene was all very interesting, to say the least.   I suppose I should feel sorry for "Trailer Tessa."  But I didn't.   I did feel sorry for her baby though.

I can't say I'm perfect and always have my things together though.  As organized as I was about having my i.d. documents in order, I realized yesterday that I never did obtain a birth certificate for my own daughter. 

Yes, that's right.  We don't have a birth certificate for Vivian.  Sigh~

And I probably wouldn't have known it for several more years either if I hadn't just enrolled her in a Mother's Day Out program.  This program is at a local church and they require me to provide a copy of it along with her medical records. 

While searching yesterday for Vivian's proof of life, I am scrambling around wondering what the hell happened to her birth certificate.  I couldn't remember what it looked like.  I didn't remember ever touching it with my fingertips.  Finally, Kirk and I came to the conclusion that we just don't have it and never received it.  If we had, then it would be there right next to her social security card, hospital discharge paperwork, her tiny foot prints and her 100+ doctor visit bills and co-pays that we've made for the past two years. 

I blame this missing document partly on my lack of sleep and the newborn hell I experienced back in November of 2007.  I also partly blame the hospital where I delivered since I distinctly remember the nurses in Dayton, Ohio (where Viv was born) tell me that it would just be mailed to me.  No problem.   Oh, it's that easy, I remember thinking before we discharged. 

Anyway, it's on order now.   Hopefully we'll receive it soon.  Otherwise, how will we know that Vivian is really ours? How will we know when her birthday really is?   After all, witnessing her crawl out from my vagina won't suffice these days.

So lesson learned folks.  Be sure you have your papework and important documents in a safe place where you can find them.  You never know when you need to prove who you are at any given moment.  Because we already know that crying and carrying on like "Trailer Tessa" won't work.