The Non-Enlightenment of Bureaucracy, Part One

So continues the apparently non-ending saga of the Trusty Little Red Scooter.

The above photo, again taken with my new uber phone, is the Face of Bureaucracy. Food, water, paper for notes, paperwork, phone, all crazy and shit. Just like Bureaucracy.

Tuesday (11/21) I had gone in to get the whole scooter mess dealt with. Didn't have to wait long, only an hour. Paid off my registration in full. Now, this is truly an interesting thing because the nice lady said, oh, you don't have to pay the full amount because you have a credit of $84. I'm like, uhm, from what. Oh, probably from paying the registration LAST YEAR and it never got applied or some such, here's your sticker. I kept my cool. I even thanked her and wished her a happy Thanksgiving and all. They also said they needed to see the bike in person to verify the VIN number and I was driving the truck. Because the police told me not to drive the scooter. And Marty wouldn't even let me drive it to the DMV until the registration stuff was taken care of. Fair enough. Done for the day!

Wednesday (11/22) after staff meeting, I swing by the DMV to get the VIN number checked since I'm up and driving again. A dude with a clipboard looks all over my scooter but can't find my VIN number even after I've told him three times where to look. Finally he writes it down and then says, "So where's the other one?" I'm like, what the hell are you talking about dude? Apparently vehicles have TWO numbers which identify it, one on the engine and one for EAP emissions or some such? I have no idea. So NOW I have to take my bad boy Trusty Little Red Scooter to CHP, the California Highway Patrol where they will hoist it up or take it apart or some such shit. What UP?!!

So I go home, armed with my paperwork, to call CHP, to call DMV collections to update since I didn't get a chance for that yesterday. The officer at CHP who deals with the hoisting or taking apart or some such shit has already left the day (it's 3:15pm) and of course, due to the impending holidays, will not be back in the office until Monday. I leave a message.

Then I call the DMV collections office or whatever they are to update their computers that I paid my registration. This is what the nice lady at the DMV told me to do. "Call here, give them this confirmation number." Right-o. So I call and tell them I have to give this number, she starts to say it doesn't matter because I owe the DMV money and I'm like, "They told me to give you this number, I'm giving you this number." And I do. And she says, "Well, your case is not closed, you still owe the DMV money." Me: "But I paid in full. I have the receipt right in front of me. They told me to call you to update your computers that it was paid." Her: "Well, here, call this number at the main DMV office in Sacramento and tell them all this."

So, bravely onwards, thou bureaucratic peon! I call the main office in Sacramento where, while on hold, I hear strange bursts of music and sometimes snippets of other people's conversations with the DMV between bouts of silence. Okaaay. Then a woman comes on and takes my account number and name and then just puts me on hold without any say so. At least this time with music. "Bring me a higher love, oh oh....". Indeed.

Then another woman comes on and takes my account number and name and then suddenly, I'm disconnected. I'm rather annoyed at this point. But I take another bite of salad, have another drink of water and bravely plunge back in, to call back.

"We are currently experiencing a high call volume, please stay on the line and a representative will be with you shortly." No doubt. This time I do get a nice lady named Destiny on the phone and we start trying to sort out the craziness that seems to be DMV Bureaucracy. I shouldn't have a credit, she says. But I do and the lady at the DMV office said so. But you shouldn't. But I do. Hmm, I wonder how that happened, she says. I have the receipt here, should I send it? Yes, fax it over and we'll review it Monday.

Well then, the saga shall continue, I'm sure. No doubt at all.

It occurs to me that if the human race put all the time spent dealing with Bureaucracy into creative or spiritual ventures, we'd just about be an Enlightened species by now.

The 5-O. And Not in a Good Way.

Oh, the day of Happy Feet, ended up being not so happy, although not catastrophic.

As we are returning home from the movie on my trusty little beat up red scooter, the police pull us over! A scooter! Apparently my registration sticker was out of date, June 2006. Now how they saw that on my bitty license plate is a mystery to me. And damn it, go chase down some serial killers or something. So they pull us over, and inform us and THEN find in their computers that the DMV says it expired in June 2005.

You know, I used to be a good, law-biding, police fearing citizen. And then I met my socialist husband. That's all she wrote. I renounced my democratic ways for the Green Party. Actually, I pretty much decided to do that the year Bush decided to invade Afghanistan and pretty much every single one of the the Democrats voted "YES" in support. I was so offended and pissed off. But it's still all his fault (the husband). Isn't it always?

In any case, normally I would have been meek and mild and simpering. "Oh, officer, it's really out of date? Oh my, whatever shall I do?" (hand thrown dramatically over forehead). In this case however, I think I felt my blood start to boil. There had been some issue with the other bike I owned for a while, a 1988 Suzuki Katana 600 (street bike, crotch rocket, rice burner, whatever you want to call it). Wait, the issue was with my scooter but I ended up paying for registration on the Katana and putting the sticker (good until 2006) on the scooter instead of the proper bike, the Katana. I had some parking tickets against the scooter that I had contested but of course the DMV wouldn't let me register the scooter with parking tickets. So I had paid those off but... no stickers in the mail and since I have a brain made almost entirely from swiss cheese (at least of good quality!), I had forgotten. Plus, hey, I had an up to date sticker on it. So, it expired in 2005. And THEN, they never sent a reminder in 2006. So, mine and the DMV's mistake.

And of course, I didn't have recent registration paperwork on my scooter. Since we had almost been home, about three blocks away, the policemen let me walk home to my house to look for any paperwork that would support my claim. That I wasn't a terrorist going to blow up the Golden Gate bridge on my trusty little red scooter. I joke. So, I make the long and arduous trek home, leaving my husband and trusty little red scooter as collateral.

I get home and am desperately going through piles of paperwork, trying to find SOMETHING to get my husband out of hoc, but alas, I'm just finding tons of paperwork on all the damn parking tickets I've ever had. Nothing of use. And then Marty calls on one of the policeman's phone, telling me that the VIN (Vehicle Identifcation Number) on my bike does not match what is in the DMV records. I've had this scooter since 2003, registering it faithfully from that point on. I start thinking, oh my gods, my scooter was orginally stolen at some point!! I'm going to jail. Then I would have made the policemen feel really bad by busting out into sobs. But as it turns out, apparently my VIN on my bike was registered to some guy's bike in San Anselmo. So who screwed up there, eh??!! So, bike registered, means not stolen. Whew.

In the meantime, they send a cop over to get a copy of the title I have finally found, returning to my huband and scooter in hoc. Eventually, they just let him drive home, stating that it was just getting too complicated and it didn't look like we were going to blow up the Bridge afterall. They suggested we keep the bike hidden for now until we could get everything straightened out because apparently the DMV, after 6 months of a registration lapsing, can just come over to your house and tow your vehicle. I wonder if it takes the cops a year and a half to catch someone instead of six months?

It's probably a good thing that I had been sent off. Marty reported to me that two other cop cars showed up, making three cars and six police officers total. I would have flipped my lid since I was already starting to steam with one. They must have thought the scooter itself was made of plastique (in order to blow up the Bridge better). Oh, and then one of cops has the NERVE to say, "Gosh, isn't your scooter really beat up" or some such. I mean, how fucking WRONG is that!? My husband, who is a Virgo and not an Aries like myself, took all this in stride.

Heh, but one small consolation is that one cop says to Marty, "I didn't mean to upset her." This probably came from the steam coming out of my ears before I left for my house and Marty shhing me and trying to calm me down before I do something stupid.

And very strangely enough (OR WAS IT!!!), later that very same day, when we checked the mail, there was a collections notice from the DMV. After a year and a half.

What EVER!!

Oh Happy Feet

So my husband and I went to see Happy Feet yesterday. Tap dancing CGI penguins galore. Ultimately, a cute movie since we all know how cute baby penguins are and we love hero stories. And we love movies that show our protagonist, be they penguin, alien or human, triumphing over any oddities that make them originally outcast.

And then, enter the Dark Side. "Luke, I am your father!!" Okay, so why do we like these movies that show the single stray tap dancing penguin out of a group who only sing (and this of course being the "social norm") triumphing over his outcastness when we as a society OUTCAST our own "not socially normal" members? Is it because we want to see ourselves reflected in the movie as the society that finally goes along with the outcasted? Do we think better of ourselves in this case? What really goes on in people's heads when they see this common movie theme? Perhaps it speaks to the Shadow, and I don't mean the Dark Side of the Force. The part of ourselves that says "I don't want to be seen as socially abnormal." and unconsciously attack those who might appear as such (through very subjective eyes, I might add). And then, of course, feel bad about it (at least I hope). So perhaps these movies speak to that part of ourselves that is not so socially acceptable and that part wants to see the triumph.

Or something like that.

Marty had a rather chilling interpretation. In order for the penguins to be noticed by mankind, to have their food supply defended, they must "dance for the man", so to speak. They have to do something novel and "human" for anyone to do something about their plight. He made an interesting point that he read somewhere, that evolution is no longer really evolution but rather the desires of mankind. The penguins cannot survive without the "assistance" of mankind, who, in my opinion, fucked it up in the first place. They are now at his mercy. Should he decide to offer it or not.

Eeeep. Okay. I usually don't look at movies in such a fashion, which is why my husband and I get into so many, ahem, "firm discussions" about them. He's the one who analyzes it, chews it up intellectually and then proffers it for consumption. Fair enough. I, on the other hand, basically say, "Yeah, I liked it." And, usually, I do. And why is a whole different post. Actually, it's probably a whole series of posts. And thus, it begins. The argument.

But this time, even though I may have slightly rolled my eyes at his interpretation, I let there be room for that as well as, "It was cute, I liked it." And, well, I kinda see his point. Not about analysis, mind you. I ain't giving him that yet. But about this particular movie. It's cute and fluffy and "ooh, ahh, the outcast returns triumphant" woo-woo stuff, but, really, there's an intensely dark undercurrent to this movie. And so "under" that I'm sure very few even notice. Hehehe, look at the penguins tap dance!!

But I bet you didn't think, "Damn, they're dancing for 'the man'!!" or "Well, shit, I'm gonna stop eating fish now to save those cute penguins!"

Although, I have to admit... I really wanted some sushi afterwards.


Photo found at IMDB.com

Bond, James Bond

I saw the newest James Bond movie today; Casino Royale, featuring the newest Bond played by Daniel Craig.

Now, I'm not a huge fan of the Bond series, probably due to not having seen many of the movies. A couple of the Pierce Brosnan ones and maybe a few scenes from various movies in the Sean Connery days. But I really have not gone out of my way to experience the phenomenon that is James Bond.

Marty wanted to see Casino Royale and I was certainly not opposed to it, although he seems to have gotten the idea somewhere that I was not really thrilled about the prospect and had made a deal that I would see Casino Royale if he would see Happy Feet. I mean, c'mon why would I make a deal like that when who could resist dancing CGI penguins? But really, I like a good action Dick Flick as well as the next guy, so I say again: I have not a clue as to where he got this idea.

In any case and to make a long review short (which I am still going to go on about it anyway), I'm in love. This movie, in my limited Bond experience, is the best by far. Marty was a bit put off by it because he felt it was a jarring experience as he has seen many more of the movies than I and he reports that it swings off track of the usual "feel" of a Bond movie.

Again from my limited experience, I can see where he's coming from. Sean Connery had a sense of being the "Gentleman's" Bond, where Pierce Brosnan was sauve, collected, almost "too cool" in the line of fire or whatever other craziness he was getting himself into.

Daniel Craig's Bond is quite different. He is flawed physically. He certainly does not have the streamlined looks of Pierce Brosnan who was dashing and had a perfect "Bond" look about him. His ears stick out and he holds his mouth in a sort of pinched fashion:

But Daniel Craig is a very handsome man despite his harsher look. And perhaps his harshness gives him better looks than Brosnan, at least perhaps a more real look. One of my favorite features are his eyes, a very intense ice blue. I've seen regular pictures of him and he definitely has very light blue eyes. I was wondering if he had been wearing contacts because almost every time you see his eyes, they are almost glowing, shining, icy blue. I know there are contacts out there that enhance shine and catch light in a certain way. And while he does not move his mouth much, or even, talk much in this movie, his eyes draw you in and say everything that needs to be said.

Our new Bond follows the physical frame of his actor. Daniel Craig's Bond is gritty, intense, dark and ultimately flawed. This Bond is harsh. Bad ass, to be sure, but he's not someone I would want to meet in a dark alley and had done something wrong. His kicking ass talents are supreme to any other Bond, his marksmanship is dead on. He's scary. Other Bonds aren't scary. There's something cartoonish about other Bonds compared to Daniel Craig's Bond.

This movie details James Bond's promotion to "OO" (Double O) status, so it's set at the beginning of his career. In order to obtain Double O status, you have to have two kills under your belt. To this end, Bond is flawed because he is dealing with his own ego, how to harness it and not keep fucking up, according to "M", played by Judi Dench. He is struggling with his emotions, also how to harness them, to not run away and get him into trouble. And, I think he is struggling with the idea of being a killer, as well. But all of this merely serves to make this new Bond more human. Not just some untouchable, silly fancy pants of a man. He is more accessible, I think, to the regular audience, although, again, I can see why it might be different and maybe difficult to those who are hard core fans.

The movie itself was well done. Nicely paced with action, mixed with some intense moments of sweetness, terror, arm chair gripping. I walked out feeling very pleased and wanting to see it again. I haven't had that sort of reaction to a movie in quite some time. Don't get me wrong, I usually like most movies I see but lately I walk out thinking about other things or not really having a lasting impression of the film. Well, okay, I take that back. I did have quite an impact from The Departed. I think I was very depressed after that one!

See this movie, it's definitely worth the theater ticket price. It's one of the better movies I've seen this year. And tomorrow... Happy Feet!!!

First photo found at Wikipedia.com. Second & third photo found at movies.aol.com. Last found at movies.ign.com.

At Work

This is a picture (taken with my cool, new, uber phone) of my work place, Eucalyptus House, in Daly City, CA. It is a transitional house for the severely mentally ill as well as those with dual diagnosis (meaning having a substance abuse issue along with a mental illness). The house operates under a social milieu model, meaning staff are guides in the community, helping clients (residents) learn daily living skills such as cooking and cleaning. Staff also works to create a healthy social environment where clients can learn to interact in more healthy manner, especially how these interactions may work out in the "real world". Staff model healthy living with each other, with the residents and provide basic level counseling. Our house is primarily made up of schizophrenics and those with severe bi-polar diagnosis, with some extremes in character disorders such as Borderline Personality Disorder. Our ultimate goal is to help people become a part of the social community again in an independent or shared independent living situation, hopefully with a job or involved in educational classes.

I have worked at Eucalyptus House since October 2002. I work 45 hours a week in two days. I come in on Thursdays at 1pm and stay overnight until Friday mornings at 10am. Sundays I arrive at 11:30am and stay until 10am on Monday. I have a staff meeting from 10am to 12pm on Wednesdays. For now, I have the rest of the week off. Which is nice and leaves days open where I can put classes (photography) or another internship, since I am still trying to decide whether to finish off my hours towards my MFT license.

Not a bad gig! The work itself can be difficult and it takes a lot of self-awareness, not to react to someone else's stuff or to react to your own stuff that might be triggered. Often, unfortunately, folks do get recycled back into the "System" (mental health system) due to not being able to reach an independent level of functioning. Sometimes this is due to not taking medications (a common symptom is that medications are poisons, which in my point of view may or may not be true). But, whatever I may feel about medications, I do see what happens when people go off their anti-psychotics. Whew. It can be a little scary sometimes, although mostly it's just sad. It's hard seeing this because I really want people to succeed and be able to engage their lives. Occasionally though, we do have people go on to get jobs and move out to their own place. Yay!!!! A smaller number of those folks manage to keep steady while most eventually end back up in the system again. And ultimately, it is these successes that make it all worthwhile.

And So It Begins...

Well, this is my first post. I'm going to try this whole blog thing out. I'm horrible at keeping in touch with people, I know, I admit it! When I did a blog assignment for my HTML class, I thought, hmm, this might be useful. (If I could actually keep up with posts).

I think it's an interesting venue, putting your thoughts out there for all to see. Random musings, raving rants, philosophical treatises, current events, straight out crazy talk. Well, that might be fun. I certainly wouldn't mind an arena for straight out crazy talk. Or raving rants.

And of course, you are welcome to add comments to any of my posts. Especially triggering ones. Rave and rant in return if you like.

So, hopefully I can keep up with this and you dear readers, my friends and family, can catch up what's been going on with Heather's life. On Mars.