September 25, 2009

life on the run

when you read the title of this post you might assume that i write "life on the run" to mean "life on the go," or "life as a busy mom," or even "my life is so busy and important, and it just never stops..." i don't mean any of those things.

sure, life is busy and all. annalee is in kindergarten, marlie is in pre-school, harper is a maniac, my fetus won't let me sleep... life is sure busy. but, that is not what this blog is about. when i say "life on the run," i mean life on the run. i am talking about my life as a fugitive. the following information is all factual, unless it is used to make a case against me in a court of law. then, it is actually just a fun and lighthearted blog post with no actual facts.

ya see it goes back far, and it goes back ugly. but, i am not going to relive my whole criminal life for all to see. i am just going to start with the most recent criminal activity... which took it's root in pennsylvania. i moved to PA about 8 years ago. i moved there to go to school at e@stern univer$ity. i became a resident of PA to decrease the tuition amount at a local community college so i could take some inexpensive summer credits. i never actually enrolled at the community college, so fat lot a good that did me. but, it was all worth it when i saw the picture on my pennsylvania driver's license.

my first driver's license was issued to me in michigan. i was 16 years old, and a poor driver. but, worse than my driving was my picture on the license. i had wet hair (which for me translates to a flat wet look on top, and frizzy bush-fest near the ends of my hair. picture a frizzy pyramid, and that was my head. i call it my mufasa.) i was also unusually pale, almost yellowy. and my eyes were completely closed. i looked like a jaundiced mufasa in a choma.

not a big deal to have a bad license picture right? well, mostly right. that statement is true for every driver's license you have, EXCEPT that first one. the first one is the one all your friends ask to see. that FIRST driver's license is the one you proudly (or shamefully) pull out of your crispy, fake-leather wallet to display to your other bad-driver friends. it was traumatic.

so, imagine my joy at seeing a normal-colored, awake, okay-haired version of myself in my pennsylvania driver's license. not to mention, the words "organ donor" were printed in green, right underneath my picture. in the picture i am wearing a sweater in the exact shade of green. it really did look like a custom match job. i was pleased as punch.

then i moved to new york. i refused to trade in my license. it was a good picture, yes. but it was not vanity alone that prevented me from surrendering my license. there was also a little voice reminding me that PA was a swing state and if i stayed a PA resident, i could vote in PA via absentee ballot. (hey - every vote counts. rock the vote.) that voice was small though, and the voice of the custom-matched license was loud and proud. so, i kept my PA license, despite my new york residency. then, after time... a LOT of time... that license expired.

new york law states this: if a resident of another state moves to new york and does not surrender their license in exchange for a NY state license... and if the out-of state license has expired more than 12 months ago, then you must be subjected to humiliation far worse than what you may/may not have experienced when showing a bad driver's license photo to your friends at 16 years of age. oh, and you will be sorry. very, very sorry.

yes, my license expired over a year ago... yes, i have been driving without a "legal" license for a very long time... yes... i have crouched behind the steering wheel in fear of police officers every time one passes me. (i feel like i can really understand the fear that fugitives experience when living life on the run. it really is terrifying) ...yes, i have gotten pulled over during the time in which i have been driving illegally... no, i have never been ticketed... yes, i am proud of how my charm rescued me from jailtime... no, i never cried or flirted my way out of a ticket, thank you very much.

here is the punishment that the wicked ladies of the dmv have brought down upon my criminal behavior:
  1. i must get an "official" copy of my birth certificate. (apparently i wasn't really born unless i pay $45 for the county office of vital records to stamp some photocopy. they are also far too good to accept a passport that expired 8 years ago. well, la dee dah.)
  2. i must submit the expensive version of my birth certificate, along with 1 million other pieces of paper that i cannot find.
  3. then, and only then, can i apply for MY LEARNER'S PERMIT. yes, you read that right. i have to get my learner's permit. again. at 28 years of age.
  4. i have to complete a 5 hour driver's education course. (i am really looking forward to doing this while i am 7 months pregnant. my friend abby pointed out that i look young for my age, so people will just think i am a pregnant sophomore in high school. that was really comforting.)
  5. i have to take a driver's test. (chances are i will be older than the twerp testing me...)
  6. then if i don't back over any cones this time... i can apply for a big-girl license.
  7. then i do a walk of shame down a plank, they push me into a pool of slime while all of my friends and family laugh and point. this part isn't really required by the state, but as it turns out, those closest to me have already done this (figuratively speaking...)

ok, nobody has slimed me just yet... but, a lot of laughing and pointing has already taken place. i don't think people understand how taxing the fugitive life can be. the laughing and the pointing, really not needed. you know what else i didn't need? the driver's manual my father-in-law sent me in the mail. inside the front cover, this was inscribed:

to lara, from mom and pops:
study hard!! if you want to practice parallel parking, we've got just the spot! we know you're going to be a great driver someday!! we love you!

again, with the laughing and the pointing. that is when i accidentally called him an @s% w*pe.

anything written in this post, was again inspired by a true story but was intended for comic relief only. it should not be used against me in a court of law. names and locations may have been altered to protect the identity of me, the negligent criminal. i am very sorry for my behavior and am looking forward to becoming a contributing member of society once again.