You Get What You Pay For

Thursday, after nearly five years of living in this state, I finally got my driver’s license. Don’t judge. Originally I thought we were only going to be here on a somewhat temporary basis and since my other license was good until 2014, I didn’t feel a need to rush. It got to a point where I realized that we would be here a little longer but by then I had a baby and I kept hearing these horror stories about waiting for hours at the DMV only to be told to come back the next day, etc., etc.

To be perfectly honest, I was harboring a deep and abiding fear of going to the DMV. I think this stems from my experience trying to get a license when we moved to New York. We moved there just two months after the September 11, 2001 bombings and it was a bureaucratic nightmare trying to get a license. I remember bringing pretty much every paper I owned with me (on my second trip, after waiting several hours and being sent home the first time) to prove that I was who I said I was. I had my Utah driver’s license, my social security card, my birth certificate, my college transcripts, my wedding certificate and current bills proving where I lived. I think I showed them credit cards, my library card and maybe even my temple recommend in a desperate attempt to convince them. I was eventually able to get my license, but it was no walk in the park. Actually, it was a horrible experience.

So, back to this past Thursday. I was dreading the excursion to the DMV. I became anxious on the drive there. Really anxious. I had waited almost five years after all. What if there were terrible repercussions because of my procrastination?What if we had to wait for hours? What if Daniel behaved horribly and I was forced to leave after all that waiting?

When we arrived, my immediate emotion was relief. There was only one person ahead of me. I went right in, handed over my old license, took the motorcycle test (another story), paid my $25.00 and walked out with my temporary license. The permanent one should arrive in the mail within thirty days.

The worst part about the whole experience was seeing my picture on the license—the picture that I will be required to show everyone who needs to see my photo identification for the next several years (or until we move to a different state). It is one of the worst pictures of me that has ever been taken. The camera was situated at a low angle so it emphasized my double chin and is almost looking up my nose making my nostrils appear quite prominent. To make matters worse, I was having a very bad hair day. I don’t like my hair right now anyway. This is what it looked like:

Only it wasn’t pink and my bangs are a bit shorter.

Here is another depiction to help you visualize my hair since I will NEVER show you the actual picture on this blog.

   +    = my hair

I know it may seem silly, but this photograph taken at the DMV has done a number on my self esteem. I keep thinking I need to go out and buy myself a pair of Spanx right now, although that won’t help the double chin or bad hair. I’ve been contemplating getting a pixie cut like Audrey Tautou and just getting rid of most of my hair altogether.

I loved my NY driver’s license picture. It was like they were paying me back for all the trouble they put me through by giving me a terrific photo. I looked thin, I had nice hair, I was smiling beatifically. The new license, not so much.

Anyway, it’s done. I am licensed to drive in my current state—I can even drive a motorcycle, if I want. A burden has been lifted. I won’t have to worry about another trip to the DMV for awhile. I guess the bad picture is the price I had to pay for all that.