Directing Men's Vulnerabilities

Four years ago today, I sat in Wesley in complete and utter shock, watching the immediate aftermath of the attacks. I'm keeping my regular entry below intact, but it may seem like mere grumbling when you think about what happened on this infamous day. I'll never forget.

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It's important to meet new people when relocating yourself to a new area, I believe. It's also just as important not to make any enemies right off the bat, especially if you're a superhero or something - you need time to build up your secret bases and your reputation.

I'm not a superhero, but I have made one enemy recently: the Virginia DMV. I guess it's more of a one-sided loathing on my part; the DMV could care less whether I exist or not. Obi-Wan might call it a wretched hive of scum and villainy. I'm not talking about the various clerks and DMV employees I've spoken with recently; they've all been extremely helpful and friendly. They're just doing their job and following the rules laid out for them. My beef lies with the non-corporeal bureaucratic red-tape that is responsible for policies that make it nigh-impossible for someone to get a driver's license in this state. My beef is ground, and I want to grill some hamburgers tonight.

The short version of my story so far is that I was able to get my license plates, but not my actual license, thanks to a snag with a proof-of-residence document. So, Round 3 of my battle with the DMV will commence tomorrow evening, when I show them my first pay stub from my job. This document is on the approved list, and I have everything else in order. So finally, I should be able to slap my pearly whites on a Virginia license and feel like a resident of this state. I'll emerge from the DMV hive victorious!

Next challenger... neeeext...