The MVA through Palestrina

So it’s been a while. I’m finding out more and more people read this (for as few comments as there are) so it’s encouraging to know that this is read and nudges me gently to keep writing. So here I go again. (on my own?)

Note: you’ll have to click the read full post link because this one is a bit long and would clog up my front page nicely.

About a week ago upon returning to my car, I realized I was no longer in the possession of my front license tag. Bummer. Not only was the tag itself gone, but the holder that held the tag onto my car (custom ordered from the dealer) was also missing. Now, considering at no point did I hear a thunk-whack-thunk-thunk while driving, I can only assume that some kind individual decided it would be just dandy to rip the entire unit off the front of my car. How lovely. SO needing to drive my car, I immediately called in the fact that I was front-tag-less. Now I’ll have you all know, Maryland is just such a chipper state that they require not one, but two license tags on your vehicle at all times. One plate just isn’t enough, is it? And Maryland answers no.

Now to fully understand this entire situation, you must understand other events taking place in my life at this time. My mother had just arrived home from her week in Florida the day before. During that past week, my cat became very ill and, by the time of her return, was not capable of holding down any food at all and spent his days laying down rather than springing about and perching windowsills. So as soon as possible (that same Monday) we took my dear feline friend to the vet.

In the vet’s office I began calling police non-emergency numbers in order to get in touch with someone who could tell me what I needed to do and who I needed to report to, etc. etc. When I called the Anne Arundel non emergency number, they told me to call the Pasadena number because I live in Pasadena and the lady on the other line seemed rather flustered that I was taking up so much of her time. When I called the Pasadena number, the woman was very kind and told me that although I live in Pasadena, I needed to call the Howard County office because that is the district in which my plate was lost/stolen. When I called the HC office, I was greeted most prickly-like by a woman demanding the cross-street location at which my tags were lost. Now, mind you, at no point was I told information I would be responsible for giving, so when I was unable to tell this woman the exact cross street, I’m sure she had no idea what I was going through when she told me, ‘perhaps [I] should call back with the correct information before wasting more of her time’. Now granted this is a slight paraphrase, but it’s pretty accurate. At this point, my cat’s blood work had come back negative and he was getting IV fluids because he was so very dehydrated and a shot of pepsin in hopes he would be able to eat something. In light of the current situation, I decided to wait until I arrived home to further pursue informing the authorities of my missing tag.

After I arrived home, I found the cross street of the restaurant I was at when said tag was found to be not there and called HC offices once again. Luckily, I was greeted warmly by a different woman. She took down my information and was patient as I compiled all of my information and told me an officer would file my report and get back to me within two hours. I thanked her (a lot) and headed to my plans for that evening, seeing as I wouldn’t be hearing from an officer for two hours and the drive was only a half an hour. Naturally he called me five minutes after I’d left my house. So as I’m driving, I’m scrambling around my car for my license number, registration information, tag number, etc. It was quite the drive. He was a very kind officer, and kept cracking jokes with me the entire time he was getting the information and I was scrambling around my car, which I’m sure would have been far less confusing if he had held the phone a bit closer to his mouth. But all in all, he was a good case officer and explained what I needed to do, what they needed to do, and what to do if I get charged with an offense off of that tag. Thank God that the people at the end of the line are friendlier than the people on the way.

So naturally, because my tag was stolen, I now needed to get my tags replaced, seeing as it was my own damn fault they got stolen in the first place. >.> *ehem* So off to the MVA! What. A waste. Of life. I sat in the uncomfortable chairs of the mva for an hour before waited on. My father, who holds the title of the vehicle, and is disabled, sat in the same uncomfortable chair, because there are no cushy chairs for the handicapped. This puzzles me as everything else about the building is handicap accessible. Once called up to the counter, I explained why I was getting new tags to the attendant and she took my old tag and handed me a pair of new tags, asked for payment, and I gave her my father’s card as he had gone to the bathroom. Of course we weren’t called until he went to the restroom, never fails. She refused to give back the card until he was present to sign and sent me to another station to return my one pitiful tag. Apparently it was just too hard for her to take my tag, register it as received, and walk all of twenty feet to dispose of it properly. Yay bureaucracy. So, leaving my father’s card at her desk, I went to turn in my other tag, and after I was done with that, I realized that the woman who had given me the new tags (and still had my father’s card) was helping someone else. Around this time my father returned. Both he and I felt it was rather silly that while holding my father’s card she was attending to someone else. None the less, he signed, we got the card back, and I had my new tags. But the new tag holder wouldn’t be available until the next day. However we agreed that we should put on the back tag and just keep the front one handy. Well. Come to find out we were missing a sticker. You see (those of you who haven’t realized, as I didn’t until this thing was absent) there are two stickers that go on the back tag. One for the month, one for the year. It’s basically to tell you when you have to go and waste time and money at the mva because the government wants to know what you’re driving at all times. Well. I had my year sticker…and was missing the month. SO back to the mva I went the next day.

Now this trip was the most pleasant trip I have ever had to the mva. I walked in, stood in the information/take a number line, explained to the lady I was missing a sticker when I was issued my tag, and she walked behind the counter, gave me a new sticker, and told me, “have a nice day” in a way that clearly communicated, “get the hell out of here before it’s too late”. When I walked out moments later, after only five minutes, I honestly felt as if I had just robbed a bank. And now knowing that feeling, I can scratch that off of my list of accomplishments. (please note the difference in size of the last two paragraphs).

Later that day I picked up my tag holder, had it installed at a different shop, and voila! my tags were back in business and after an oil change, Reginald is fit to drive again.

And wouldn’t you know after all of that, my check engine light is on.

You may also be happy to know that my cat is feeling far better and is now back to his normal self, which is a very pleasant thing. I care for my cat very much and would be quite upset were something to happen to him.

So during this entire ordeal was also the constant nag of my parents saying that I wasn’t trying hard enough to resolve the matter. Now granted, they were very helpful in ordering the new part for the tag and in clearing things up with the insurance company, but I will never understand how all people in every single area (myself included) can grow to be so hard to other people’s situations. It seems that no one is in the opinion that anyone is trying anymore. So through the process of all of these phone calls, trips to the MVA, trips to my mechanic, trips to jiffy lube, not once was I trying hard enough. Oh parents. Always expecting so much. I can sympathise with my parents a lot, I usually understand where they’re coming from, but I rarely agree with them, or their motives.

Onward to rent, or lack there of. I’ve been trying to move out for a few different reasons lately, and finding it incredibly difficult to do so. At my current job I make what either is or soon will be considered minimum wage ($7.50). This is not nearly enough to pay rent and buy food, not even working full time. I’m mostly confident that I would be able to scrape by at 9 an hour, but that would be with other incomes, most likely. Such as odd jobs or some form of sketch/painting freelance. So I’ve been job hunting. Well, as the economy is, that’s proving difficult. It’s shocking that even in such a taxing economy, so many employers still demand experience and/or a degree for basic level positions. For example, I have no experience managing an office, nor do I have a business management degree, but I’m confident that if I was able to wrangle elementary through high school kids together backstage for countless performances while running tech, stage managing, or directing, I think I can handle fax/copy/invoice/payroll/type. Give me a week or two of training and I’ll knock your socks off at whatever job you give me. But apparently a piece of paper with pretty calligraphy is far more important than skill, wit, and charisma. Who knew.

Recently I’ve realized just how much I hate full time school. Like. I’m not talking about “it’s unpleasant, I’m not comfortable with it, whine whine whine.” No. I mean I despise being forced into twelve credits every semester because some big wig thinks that’s what I should be capable of accomplishing in a set amount of time. I am so damn sick and tired of so many fucking expectations. And trust me, I say that with all of the venom that can be perceived. All of my life I have had nothing but expectation after expectation and I’ve felt the need to fill them…..but I’ve come to a point in my life where I realize that I never will. These expectations are not what I want at all and even should I fill them, I, myself, will feel empty. So no more. Next semester I plan on taking two classes. Two. Perhaps three, but more than likely two. It’s foolish to force myself into four classes, at least one of which I will more than likely drop, and waste my money on something that pushes me too hard. I will no longer be a “full time student” just to save a few bucks on my car insurance payment and spend a few more on my college classes. What a foolish society.

*sigh* When I dwell on society as a whole, it is depressing beyond words.

This past week I spent a lot of time with some of my closest friends. First with the celebration of one’s birthday, then a movie night with two more, a date, a movie date with a dear sister, and then brief conversations with a dear friend I have rarely been able to speak to over the past few months due to his military training and upcoming deployment. Last week was a rich week. This week will be a busy one. Practices are starting with the choral group I will be accompanying to Rome. You can read more about that trip here. You can also learn more about my high school’s singing groups and my wonderful choir directors here. I have sang in all of these choirs, except for the men’s ensemble, which I was not allowed to sing in, although I dearly wanted to give Tenor a go. Please also note that the Spring Choral concert for this group will be May 14th and 16th at 7pm in Annapolis, MD at St. Anne’s church. (It’s the church in the middle of church circle. Some pictures from last year’s concert can be seen here. (There’s a great one of me and my girls. ^.^)

I’m incredibly excited about going to Rome. I’ll be spending the week with my second family, traveling out of country for the first memorable time, and taking the best kind of vacation: one with much singing and learning. I’ll also be spending the vacation with my mom and my unrelated sister, Jenni, my dear Jane, along with my unrelated brothers Alex and Jacob, who are really more like my other thirds than anything else. I’m so excited I’m sure I could ramble on forever. But alas, dear reader, I will save your eyes the trouble. The bottom line is that I once again am able to travel with my unrelated family and now I get to include my mom too, which is wonderful. I do have a large amount of music to learn, so I suppose I should get started on that. I know a good bit, but still. Ohhhh Palestrina, how I love thine music. *sigh*During our trip we will be singing with all of the groups combined, we will be singing for a Papal Mass, and our group will sing a selection for the Pope himself. I am not a Catholic, but that’s just plain cool. I’m so excited to travel though, I think that is my largest source of eagerness. To go to a completely different land. It’s just amazing.

And now, my dear reader, I will be retiring to my couch to continue my day of rest for this upcoming busy week, so I bid you farewell until you write me, or until I write all of you again.


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