Day 133 - Moms, Anniversaries, and DMVs

1. Moms

Sometimes, I miss my mom so much that it hurts. Such is the case today.

But I'm also very very grateful. I just spent five blissful days with her, whooping it up here in sunny San Diego.

My mom is one of my best friends. I feel blessed that I mean that.

Like tourists, we traversed this town. From art fair to botanical garden. From the open green hills to the loud downtown.

At the risk of sounding like I work for the San Diego tourism department, I must say, I'm so in love with this city.

Per usual, we also tackled a home project. Couldn't resist spray-painting my old wicker furniture. We opened the garage and surrounded the chair, the end table, the chest of drawers. From ratty tan to chocolate brown, we transformed my bedroom stuff, all nice and new. Brick orange cushion for completion.

My mom has the ability to unwind me. Sometimes I get so tight. So serious. She just can grab the end of that string, and skip off into the sunshine. When it's all said and done, I'm new again. Unraveled. Disheveled. Smiling. Remembering to let go...

Of course I also have the habit of taking it too far. Ravished for the younger and freer me, I probably maybe perhaps smoked a few cigs while she visited. I probably maybe perhaps drank coffee, soda, and rum. And better yet, I think I probably maybe perhaps needed all that.

Let's face it. Stress management has never been one of my strong suits. Too-shay.

I miss you mom. I wish we lived in the same city.

2. Anniversaries

I'm going to brag here. I just can't help it.

Dave and I celebrated our six-month wedding anniversary over the weekend. With my mom in town and his mom and step dad also stopping in for the weekend, the morning of our anniversary, we quickly shared some lovely sentiments and a heart-felt spoken "Happy Anniversary" to each other before crawling out of bed. He went off to sail with his family. Mom and I, off to the gardens. (That all sounded so bourgeoisie) I didn't think anything of it, I figured we'd celebrate after our guests departed.

Later that evening, he came smiling up the stairs with a fist full of pink and white balloons, one of which, in red lettering said "Happy Anniversary." His other hand? A bouquet of lilies. His mother and step dad followed close behind him, with a smooth rectangle of tiramisu cake. What a guy. What a guy.

I love getting love in all the girly, cliche ways that hipper girls might renounce. Flowers are pretty. Balloons are awesome. And cake is divine. I have a theory that girls who claim to not like these things are actually insecure. They think YOU don't like these things. So they claim the same.

Or they saw a movie somewhere where the quirky protagonist girl said something witty to her potential mate like, "Why would you buy me flowers? It's a waste of money for something that just wilts and dies all over my kitchen table."

Which was really just the screenwriter's lazy way of using character development. The underlying message of the dialogue was meant to communicate this: This girl is so different and unique than all the other girls this guy has ever met. And the guy is supposed to know he's met someone real special and that perhaps his whole life might be changed from here on out.

So some poor girl out in the audience thinks to herself, hmmm...maybe if I don't like flowers than I'll be unique and special and someone will love me just like this guy loves Amanda Peet.

But sadly, the results are simply this: These girls miss out on one of the oldest and simplest forms of male to female courtship. Here's a flower. It means I love you. I'm not much of a talker. But I got you this pretty thing. Because I want to give you things. Because you're pretty. And I like you. And I want to continue touching your boobs.

We're so smitten with this display of affection that we let them. As well we should.

In a more advanced form of male to female courtship, Dave handed me two tickets to the dance tour of "So You Think You Can Dance" in downtown San Diego in November. Row Five. Center Stage.

WHAT??!!! (Can you hear me jumping up and down and screaming at the top of my lungs like Mary Murphy?!) This male to female show of affection says: I love you so much that I went out and did for you (for us) what might make you love me till we die.

Add to that, that my mom witnessed our anniversary exchange. Which means, Dave earns mad brownie points. Which means, I'm all the more ecstatic. Because I'm petty and I love it when things look good. Kidding. Kind of. Let's face it, everybody wants their parents to adore their chosen life partner. Life isn't as fun without that key element.

Anyway, "Happy Anniversary" to the the love of my life. For the seven years before our wedding day and to the 70 years after--my love continues to thicken and grow in my heart. It digs deeper; it gets more complicated; it gets more light than ever.

3. DMVs

Went to the DMV today to finally get my California driver's license.

At the first counter, the guy said, "I like your name. Darcy. That's nice."

Me (smiling): Thanks.

DMV employee: Have you ever seen the TV series "Pride and Prejudice"?

Me (replying in my head): You mean, 'Have I read the classic piece of epic romantic literature written by none other than Jane Austen?'

Me (actually said): The character Mr. Darcy?

DMV employee: Yes, that's it! Mr. Darcy. That's who I thought of when I heard your name. Very English sounding. I love it.

At the second counter, the woman said, "You and I share the same middle name."

Me (smiling): Oh, your middle name is "Jo"?! Are you from the Midwest?

2nd DMV employee: My parents are.

Me: Well that explains it.

We share a laugh.

By the end of our time together, she had complimented my ability to take a good thumb print and also said "Pretty picture!" after snapping my new driver's license shot.

O.k. so my trip to the DMV was lovely. What the hell? Did I just walk into some kind of DMV twilight zone? Where the most upbeat and supportive employees uplifted residents all day long? Next time I go they'll be distributing champagne and cookies at the buffet table. Knock on wood.

While the customer service was friendly, I have to say California government lags lags lags. First off, my written driver's test was actually written. What? Written. Like pencil and test sheet. And when I was done, I watched my fave employee with the middle name Jo grade it by hand. By hand. What kind of backwards shit is that? Don't they know that most states have these electronic things, they're called computers, that not only save paper but also increase efficiency?

And to boot, they said, "Your license will arrive in the mail in a few weeks." What? Um, in Arizona and Minnesota AND in po-dunk North Dakota (circa early nineties), you get, hold your breath, the darn thing printed off right there. Weird. Why is CA so behind?

To further this point, the other day I got pulled over by a stoic motorcyle cop. Why? Um, I was also interested to find out. Apparently it was for talking on my cellphone while driving. Without a hands-free device. Apparently that's a law they enforce here. I thought they were kidding. And when he handed me the ticket, he said I could call a number and pay, but I would have to "wait a month or so, so that they can get the ticket in the system." Hmm... it's no wonder Cali has budget problems.

Which brings me to my last point. Which is quite far down here, so I'm hoping some of you have dropped off before getting here, so you'll miss one of my few Republican-like confessions.

Now, most of you know that I'm a Democrat through and through. I tend to agree with and therefore vote blue, the majority of the time. But I have to say, one negative thing, I've noticed since living in this dark blue state (the first one in my life, Arizona and North Dakota are blood red), is that (begin redneck twang here and kick dirt with cowboy boots), "There sures are lots of laws here. Lots of big bureacracy, red tape. I don't know if I like the gubernent' deciding all my bizness." Sometimes a point is a point.