Obituary

In an obviously topsy-turvy week of emotions I am now immensely saddened to inform everyone of the death of the Honda's transmission. At the ripe age of 6, the transmission suffered from a fatal illness. It was a dedicated member of the community, shuttling me to and from school, as well as a lover of arts (it frequented the parking lots of many local cultural establishments). The transmission is survived by my grieving credit card bill. A memorial service will be held in my pocket book Friday, December 7.

Dreams

As many of you know I often have horrifying, violent dreams. My sleep is often plagued with blood, disembodied heads, serial killers, and alien monsters. Others have been so disturbed when I relate my dreams to them that they advise me to seek professional help for analysis (of me or the dreams I am not sure).

Last night however, I had a dream that was the polar opposite to my normal night time flights of fancy. I dreamed that I was getting a massage. I think that I can interpret that one myself...

My Hatred Burns with the Fire of 10,000 Suns

The Missouri Department of Revenue handles vehicle registration here in Missouri and I hate them. Yes, hate. Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate them. Before, living in California, I had always been told of horrible DMV experiences that involved waiting for hours on end. That is nothing compared with the horrors that is the Department of Revenue Licensing office here in Springfield.

Never once have been able to go there on my first try and get something done. A trip into the licensing office inevitablly results in several rounds of incomplete instructions from the clerks that lead to multiple trips around town to collect the appropriate documentation.

Yesterday was especially bad. Due to a previous frustrating day trying to register the Hyundai last year, I knew that they were going to send me to the county clerk's office for a property tax waiver/receipt. So, to streamline the process I went straight to the county clerk. I obtained said property tax waiver and left the county clerk's office feeling successful because I had only had to visit with two different offices (on two floors) in stead of four, like my last trip there.

Confidently, I drove across town to the Licensing Office with a folder full of all the documentation I needed. I had everything to transfer the car to Joe and I (as its title had previously been in my Mom's name) and to register it. I had the title signed over to Joe and I, the bill of sales stating that we had purchase the car for five dollars from my mom, the state safety inspection, proof of insurance, and I even had a sheet of paper with Joe's and my mother's social security numbers written down just in case. I felt prepared as I walked through their double doors.

After a short wait, I was called up by one of the employees. Before her I spread my paperwork proudly, anticipating a quick transaction. After mulling over my offerings she looked up at me and asked, "do you have the release of lien from the original lender?"

Crestfallen, I answered that I did not. Away I was sent to frantically search through my files for the release of lien. Miraculously, I had it, notarized as it needed to be. So, once again I made my way to the Licensing Office, more cautiously this time. After another short wait in line a different employee called me up to her window. Again, I lay all my papers out before her. This second employee looks everything over and explains that Jefferson City (the state capital) will not except the sale of a vehicle for less than $100.00. Therefore, I needed to get a gift affidavit signed by my mother.

Nearly in tears, I explained that my mother lives in California and asked how she was supposed to sign aforementioned affidavit. The answer came back, "she can fax it to you, we don't need this one notarized." Fabulous. Neither my mother nor I have a fax machine. I left the office demoralized once again.

After several phone calls to my Mom, a trip to Kinko's for her, a drive out to CSS for me, and yet another trip to the Licensing Office, the Hyundai finally got registered.

I hate them.

Diets and College Don't Mix

Here are some of the reasons lossing weight in college sucks:

1. Constant offers of free food to entice you into going to events you otherwise wouldn't
2. Poverty that makes it really hard to refuse anything free
3. Horrible unhealthyness of aforementioned free food
4. Stress related eating
5. Vending mechine lunches
6. Cafeteria lunches
7. Beer=social life
8. Studying all night=eating all night

An unexpected relief

So the day after the stress-post-of-death, it was massage day in class. Yeah! Free massages! Now who wishes to come to class with me?

Whip It, & Whip It Good!

I was doing a little bit of self reflecting today, i.e. not paying attention in class, when I realized that I have no stress relief mechanisms in place for myself. Instead, I tend to hold on to stress with a white-knuckled grasp that can only be loosened with a crowbar (and the removal or passing of the stress causer).

Realized is probably the wrong choice of words however, as this is not, nor should it be, a new thought about myself. I have made myself fairly ill in the pass simply from being under a good amount stress (yeah jr. year of high school!). Of course, you maybe wondering why you all care. Here's why; life is starting to work its stressful magic on me and I would like to deal with it before illness sets in. That's where you come in. I need everyone to comment with their own stress relieving methods and activities. Maybe it I do ALL of them at once, I can manage to let go of the worries and pressure.

Thank you for your forthcoming assistance!