Officially official

I thought for awhile about a blog that would delve into the costly consequences of having to depend on the services of someone who does not like their job. Maybe they like it, but are indifferent to their work which, I believe, is more insidious. Then I thought that could lead into another blog about how that's made me work even harder to earn institutional services that we have found available, thus negating the stereotype of public service recipients being lazy, tax-sucking slobs. As much as I love to preach and fly in the face of convention, I got tired just having that whole conversation in my head.
Suffice it to say, I finally received my Cal driver's license. I applied for it the first week of September. Make no mistake, though. My gripe, well, bafflement is better said, is not with the DMV. I followed their exact instructions, honored their request for more information regarding my seizure history (a delay I expected), and found the clerk I spoke to very professional and courteous. What happened was that the DMV sent it to my p.o. box and it wasn't delivered but sent back to the DMV. Why would the post office do this? Because some min-wage high-school lackey looked at our change of address form, filled out in Lanesboro (so we're talking mid-August), and decided one of our last names would be sufficient instead of both. As a result, we were getting mom's mail and some of ours. She was still getting some of our mail back in Lanesboro. I called the post office and they told me to fill out new change of address forms, but one for each member of the household and that mom should do the same, including one for Dad. (Insert rhetorical question here.) We did. The license must have been caught in that transition, therefore not delivered to "Weaver". I didn't understand this until my temporary license was a week from expiring. I called the DMV and they told me simply that it was returned. I asked if I could go pick it up, just to be safe, and I was told No, the local DMV doesn't distribute the hard copies and that I'll have to have my name put on a list for the hard copy to be re-sent. Then she said, "We'll send you a temporary one in the mean time." (Insert rhetorical question here.) I thought she was joking. She wasn't. Having not received anything after a week I called again and a different clerk said she didn't see any record that the license was sent, not even a temporary one and I should go to the DMV, wait in line to get a number, and apply for another temporary one. Well, there's a happy ending to all of this: on Wednesday I received a handwritten, temporary license good for 60 days, which was a relief since my present temporary license was to expire yesterday. Lo and behold, the hard copy arrived yesterday, just in time. But I love the irony: I suddenly was licensed in triplicate, if only for one day.

Dancing Queen

Oh, there you are.

Mama Mia!

There is no dearth of opportunity to connect with others parents, be it outside our apartment door or in the greater San Diego area. I never tried too terribly hard while living in Lanesboro, so I feel a bit amazed. A local, free magazine lists kid-friendly events and there are plenty that are free. We're signed up for two groups on meetup.com and an online network for UCSD graduate parents. We try to get to the Mesa parks at the times when most parents and kids are out, we go to library time when it doesn't land during nap time (and play at yet another park) and have been introduced to the church nursery. So, we show up. We talk. We play. We hope for connections that will last.

Go Cal!

The word on the UC information highway is that Cal should be used for all UC schools and Berkeley should be ashamed of themselves for assuming it only refers to them. I say Berkeley should be The Cal (because let's all admit that's what it is), just like the interstates, and everyone else can be Cal. I will refer to all things Californian as Cal because it's easier to type.

I love that Cal taxpayers fund interstate signs that say "Drive the speed limit. It saves fuel and lives." Thank you! Don't complain about high gas prices if you drive like you have money to burn!

I also appreciate that most Cal public green spaces are watered with recycled water. Sure, you shouldn't let your kids play there, should disinfect your hands if you come into contact with anything and should not steal the water to make your coffee (wait a minute....), but it's a smart idea for a wasteful practice.

Cafe Sabotage

The Weaver family cup of coffee has had a long evolution. It would make the most conservative coffee creationist believe in the 'missing drink', as it were. What we drink now looks, tastes, or acts like nothing we drank way back when. I've had myriad cups of gas station swill, family restaurant chasers with breakfast and even Uncle Bud's hazlenut-flavored water. But since arriving in California the origin of the coffee species has been written out of the cafe chalkboards. I will concede that the Evil Empire will produce a caffeinated iced coffee to send you into convulsions, thus forgetting the well-done BBQ hack job they call roasting, but I have yet to find anywhere else where paying for coffee merits enjoyment return on that hard-earned buck. Sorry, guys. Maybe it's something in the water.