Secession

Dear Oregon, I'm breaking up with you, for realz this time. While I enjoyed your tree-covered majesty, pollen saturation, comforting laws regarding toplessness, and tepid politics for most of my three decades on this planet, I have moved on to other pastures. Don't try and win me back,I went to the DMV this morning and made it official. Now onto the real point of this blog (just kidding, there is no point):I was the fifth person in line outside the DMV this morning and some guy was having his grandpa hold his place in line and when he got back in line, I, in traditional jackass fashion, informed him where the end of the line actually was. He started stammering and I was like, "OHMYGOD, I'm joking!" He laughed nervously and then proceeded to stare at me while I ate my disgusting 8 grain roll from Starbucks. (Do yourself a favor and only order the unhealthy shit from that place). He then leaned over and said, "Don't worry, I'm a joker, too." Oh boy. My early morning jackassery was misinterpreted for flirting. He then sat next to me once we were permitted inside. He introduced himself to me and then invited me to his family's Indian restaurant. I do love some Indian food, but I do not want to spend the rest of my days telling that ridiculous story to everyone who asks how I met my husband. Also, Jesse is the least-convincing Indian name I have ever heard. In all seriousness (just kidding, there is no seriousness): I was able to procure a Washington driver's license and Washington plates for my car in under two hours, and under two hundred dollars. Sick.