Yesterday brought the latest installment in the quest to move the title of our car into my name. Yesterday was intended to bring the quest to its glorious conclusion…but the fates continued to bar my way, their foul breath filling my senses as they laughed in my face.
After previous experiences, I had finally acquired my PA license, Briggs had gotten paid so we could afford the transfer fee, and we headed to the AAA so that we could finally make the bank happy by putting the title of our perky
blue Subaru in my name.
We stood in line for half an hour, finally had our number called and excitedly approached the desk only to have the clerk coldly inform us that — contrary to what we had been lead to understand…contrary to the information given to me when I called the AAA to find out what documentation and information we would need for the process and I was told I just needed a PA license or ID and the title — the car ALSO needs to be both registered AND insured in my name. Oh, sure, we could have switched the title over, but if we did that we were required by law to immediately remove the plates from the car and park it until the afore mentioned actions had been taken.
As Briggs is the only one who actually ever drives the car (I think I have driven it…I don’t know…twice?), we would, of course, also have to continue an insurance policy in his name. Not only that, but when a vehicle is registered, it has to pass inspection. The car just got its annual inspection about two months ago, and a switch in registration would mean we would have to pay the rather hefty inspection fee all over again, along with the registration fee, the cost of insurance and the cost of the actual title change.
I don’t know if this has ever come up, but we are pretty darn poor at this particular moment — we certainly can’t afford all those expenses this week. Meanwhile, the bank gets more irritated at each delay.
…but it isn’t all bad. The moon is very close to the earth right now, and last night when we came up the driveway, it was just rising over the hill behind our house. The heavenly body glowing through the winter bare trees led us to momentarily believe that we had left the house with all the lights on inside,
until we realized that the glow was too immense for that. Then there was a brief flash of fear that the house was burning with that eerie golden glow before we realized that the source of the illumination did not came not from our dwelling, our yard, or even our home planet, but from the giant moon cresting a gentle rise.
Then, I imagined the moon swooping down and biting a chunk out of the earth.
I went outside later and the moon had risen further in the sky and no longer seemed quite so immense…but it shone with such intense silvery brightness that I almost could not gaze upon it with unshielded eyes. I later turned off all the lights in the house and marveled at the inky shadows the illumination cast on the white snow in our yard.
Another mark in the ‘pros’ column — I repaired our kitten. (No, not fixed…not yet. Soon.) On Monday, Robin G was very obviously ill…he kept vomiting, with nothing left in his stomach to eject, was lethargic and obviously miserable. With no other options at the time, I made sure he got fluids and nutrients via syringe, and by Tuesday night he seemed back to his regular trouble-making self, as he walked around on the headboard of the bed and meowed at me to wake up and entertain him over and over again. (He almost died right there, despite
his recovery.) After three days of apparently perfect health, yesterday he got sick again. He had no energy and no appetite, was lethargic and throwing up…I figured he must be getting into something he shouldn’t. I gave him broth every couple hours, checked on him concernedly, then finally went to bed and crossed my fingers for a recovery like he had experienced previously.
A short while later, I heard him hacking something up, yet again. With a heavy heart, I went into the living room to check on him and clean up whatever there was to clean up. And as I bent down to do so, I noticed that he was attempting to dislodge something dangling out of his mouth. I quickly caught it an pulled it — all two or so feet of it — out of his throat. It was a piece of plastic ribbon, like those used to wrap presents. My eternal troublemaker had found a piece of ribbon and decided that ingestion was a fitting death for his shiny victim. Then, of course, it got caught in his stomach and started causing him problems. Almost as soon as I removed it, he started feeling better and perking up. By the time I fell fully asleep, he was energetic enough
to come wake me up. Repeatedly.
But it’s not all evil moons and cat vomit around here — oh no! I made tuna melts for dinner last night, and they were delicious and a perfect comfort food after a stressful day. I followed them with the comfort food of desserts — home-made chocolate chip cookies. Which means I also got to have breakfast cookies today!
We watched the finale of Dollhouse on last night, and, though perhaps not the
BEST finale ever (something about the format of that show made it a little hard to get really emotionally invested, I think. Still a great show. Just weird.) but still pretty darn sweet.
On the topic of finales, we did a back-to-back Doctor Who night with Anna and Aaron this week, because we were at the end of
season two and it just didn’t seem right to break up ‘Army of Ghosts’ and ‘Doomsday’. In accordance with my master plan, Anna cried. Quite right too.
Other portions of my fictional life are less satisfying at the moment, however. After finishing Robin Hobb’s ‘Liveship Traders’ trilogy, which became increasingly difficult to put down as I approached the conclusion, I decided that, as Briggs and I have been watching Legend of the Seeker for a while now, I should read the series it’s based on — ‘The Sword of Truth’ by Terry Goodkind.
…I do apologize if anyone out there sincerely loves T.G.’s writing…but I don’t know when I last read such utter, awful crap. Just…crap. I’m barely halfway through and harbor no excitement at the thought of continuing. I will, because I can’t not finish a book, but I will get no enjoyment from it. The characters spend half the book hugging — hugging each other, random kindly strangers, magical chipmunks…any time one of them starts to get angry at another, they immediately change their mind after thinking about what their dear, dear friend must have gone through keeping the secret from them/choosing to do the right thing…the male protagonist stops his female companion (who he is deeply enamored of) in the middle of sexing him up, because he can’t be with her
unless she can be fully honest about her past…the writing is dreadful, the characters are unconvincing, and at least one NPC is an almost direct rip-off or Tolkien’s creature, Gollum.
I’m also currently watching through the show ‘Bones’. So far it is mostly diverting and entertaining, though there have been one or two deeply annoying points when the writers bent science to suit the plot, and many of the secondary characters are much more interesting than the two leads. David Boreanaz’s ex-Army Ranger character perhaps a bit more gung-ho and slightly less brooding than the one he played on Angel and Buffy, but otherwise largely indistinguishable.
The weather right now is bloody cold and very clear…lip balm is hardly noticed by my chapping.
Tonight I plan to do my taxes.



I think it’s funny that when all is said and done, it will be the PA DMV and not your friends that finally convince you to move back to CA.
Dude you suck, sword of truth novels are great. Obviously you’re too used to the cynical dark maneuverings of endlessly lame emo-novels. Because I’ve read robin hobb’s books (all of them) and I was say I enjoyed sword of truth immensely more and am in the middle of re-reading all the books. Also Carrie just finished book one and she is totally hooked.
I can only surmise that you are not aware of the vital difference between quality books and holes in the ground….
I don’t know, Adam…what I think I really have a problem with is the fact that the writing is about the same quality as that of a self-gratifying fan-fic written by a 13 year old. The characters are annoying and unbelievable…gratuitous hugging and post-sensitivity-training “Angel” attitudes aside. The plot is riddled with Deus ex Machina moments, and half the characters and locales seem to be very thinly disguised rip-offs from other fantasy writers’ works…and despite the third person narration, whenever T.G. is writing from the perspective of Princess Violet’s playmate, not only is the dialogue of the girl herself horribly painful (seriously…how many times can a person use the word “bestest” before they DESERVE to be locked in a box?), he tends to slip into the same ‘child-speak’ vernacular in his narration.
I’ll be the first to admit that it’s not the BEST written book on the planet. All the things you bring up are an issue, but it’s more of a fast enjoyable ride. By using some cliches and deus ex stuff he keeps one thing going after another, The sheer amount of characters, plots and activities that take place only in the first book is a feat unto itself, especially since it doesn’t leave you wondering what the outcome is.
TO put it in perspective, I don’t think “Die Hard” is probably a cinematic masterpiece, it’s chock full of generic action scenes and one-liners. But it’s super fun, enjoyable and I’ll keep going back to watch it again. Make sense?
Adam
PS: it also gains a bit more pacing and creativity as you go on.
I get what you are saying, but a movie like Die Hard, though it wouldn’t win any Oscars, is well written/acted/special-effected for the genre it inhabits. It may not be deep, but it is still a polished and successful final product. There are plenty of books I read/shows I watch/movies I enjoy that may not have stunned humanity with their profound meaning but that I still enjoy because they have redeeming qualities outside some crappy message.
I do, however, have certain minimum standards. I admit that I am rather high on the picky scale when it comes to grammar and word use. I abhor the repetition of the same word–especially one that is descriptive or in some other way easily variable–and T.G. did this almost constantly. His word choice in general was also weak…there were countless times that I encountered adjectives that seemed inappropriate and flat.
Normally, I would be particularly frustrated by the above, as bad writing would distract me from the plot…but in this case, I found the characters to be very obvious and two-dimensional…the only one that really had any depth to speak of was Mistress Denna. Everyone else was catch-phrases and signature moves. They felt like cardboard game-pieces moving across a map to rolls of of a die.
I understand that some people really do enjoy this series, but as far as I am concerned, I find nothing to recommend it.