so i went to change my name today legally. wanted to do it at the two big gatekeepers of identity: social security and drivers license. i thought social security would be infinitely worse.
i think i was there for 10 minutes total. and i didn’t have an appointment. it was barely worth listening to the security guy and turning off my cell phone. except i did. because i am authority-respecting like that.
i went to the drivers license place and, when i pulled in, there was neither available parking nor anywhere to sit–inside OR outside, because there was a line out the door.
i have no idea why, but everyone in this stupid county was at this tiny office on this friday afternoon. i approached the counter and, despite having my birth certificate, social security receipt, drivers license, and marriage license in my possession, i also apparently needed a utility bill to prove my change of address.
(we won’t talk about how my address has been wrong on my license for MUCH longer than it should have been…)
so i went home, ate a PB&J sandwich, considered whether or not i wanted to go back, decided that i really wanted to get this done, and went back.
and saw the same people there that had been there when i left. an hour and something before.
i got a number this time but, upon hearing from the receptionist that normal days are very efficient, decided that this was a monumental and idiotic waste of time and that, were i called upon to have to stay there, i might lose my mind.
i may find that this was a very bad decision. but i am really completely perplexed by why social security, who deals with infinitely more complex issues, got me done in 34 seconds and the drivers license place is a operating on an insanely slow timeline.
i am also somewhat annoyed that i have to jump through these kinds of hoops. bah. good thing the bff (and his name) are worth it.
sweet mercy.
my other, and definitely shorter, rant is this: why is it that, once someone is married, every time they say anything tangentially (or directly) related to feeling gross, sick, or crabby, people crawl out of the woodwork to ask if they are pregnant?
if i was newly pregnant, would i REALLY be complaining about it on facebook in such obvious terms? really? i wouldn’t, you know, mask it as “tired” or “blah” or any other HOST of non-obvious, non-pregnancy related terms so as to, i don’t know, CONCEAL A PREGNANCY I HAD NOT YET ANNOUNCED?
and, following the same line of thought, dear well-meaning but really nosy and obnoxious commenter, do you really think that when you comment on my status asking if i am, in fact, pregnant (and it’s usually said obnoxiously like ‘prego’ or ‘preggers,’ terms which i really think should be banned forever), do you think that i am going to take that opportunity to announce to you and the rest of your newsfeed that i am?*
gah.
*i am not. this did not happen to me, but i have literally watched as it has happened to EVERY.SINGLE.ONE. of my newly married facebook friends, so i am just waiting for it to happen to me. depending on who does it, i may unleash my irritated ire. but probably not.
i have, however, known people who have announced their pregnancy on facebook when they were like 2 weeks pregnant. excuse me while i cringe. that will NOT happen.



coming out of the temple. i love these pictures.
this might be one of my favorites so far.
me and my mom. this is when we were taking pictures around the temple. it was SO hot, y’all. i think we all thought we were going to die.
we took refuge in the shade. i love this picture too.
we had a giant cupcake tower, but someone offered to make us a little cake. this is what it looked like (it was really cute!) and it was a perfect showcase for our little penguins. you can’t say those aren’t awesome. etsy, y’all. etsy.
i was ridiculously kind to my husband when we cut the cake. he? was not so kind. this is the face that i made when i saw the size of the piece of cake he was going to stuff in my face. i tried to be graceful about it, but i had to pull half of the 41 inches of fondant out of my mouth. it wasn’t pretty, but it was very me.
he wrote me a song. and played it at our reception.