QOTD: "Oh, look, they're building another ruin." - my father pointing out an archaeological dig in Israel
Reading: Jean-Paul Kauffmann, The Dark Room at Longwood
Listening to: Snakefarm, Songs From My Funeral
Decluttering accomplishments: still unpacking
I am officially a Virginian. I went over to the DMV office and changed over my driver's license and my automobile title and registration. The experience was one of the more amiable ones I've had with bureaucracy. But that's only because I was able to go to the Pentagon branch and avoid the unwashed masses that I'm sure populate other branches. The whole thing, including the bus rides to and from my office took under 40 minutes. The only annoyance was having to sign my name on one of those irritating digital pads that never provide good enough tactile feedback to let you write normally. But that would have been the case whichever office I went to.
My more annoying experience was yesterday, as I ran around town buying various odds and ends. I got a bathroom rug, for example, but they didn't have the contour mat in the right color. I had to go to four stores before I found acceptable shelf liners. The failure of supermarkets in Northern Virignia to sell contact paper strikes me as very strange. After I found it at a discount store, I did see some at another supermarket, but this was harder than it should have been. The other place that didn't have any was Home Depot, but they also didn't have about half of what I wanted there. That didn't stop them from sending me from one end of the cavernous store to another with clerks from two areas (hardware versus shelving) insisting the other had the shelf clip I needed. The shelving people had one that was similar but came only in white, while I need brass. Anybody know of a great hardware store hereabouts? Or do I have to wait for a trip to L.A. to go to B&B in Culver City or a trip to Boulder for the wonderfulness that is McGuckin's?
I'm still really jet lagged, so that's all for now. It's kind of pathetic for an "end of the year" entry, but I'm way too tired to write more.
Copyright 2002 Miriam H. Nadel