Big day. Drove out to the DMV in Westbank only to learn they not only did they not do tags or registration, but I couldn't get my license without a certified copy of my birth certificate. So, I called Momma and talked to her for bit. She said she'd get the birth certificate arranged and we chatted for a while. I wound up driving out to Chalmette and got my tag, registration and "brake tag" (inspection sticker). All in all, it cost me about $130, but at least that's out of the way. I'll get my license sometime next week or whenever the birth certificate came.
The DMV and Chalmette was an interesting experience. Guy I met at The First Job named Tommy said he came from Chalmette and it was the "redneck" part of New Orleans. I see what he means. Very North Georgia/North Alabama with all sorts of ports and industrial plants belching smoke and toxins. Ah, ain't that America.
After getting back to the Quarter, I went and got a library card. I'd been meaning to do it, so I just knocked it out. The library's not as good as the one in Gainesville - and I wonder if I'll ever find a library that good again - but it's comparable to Athens. Lots of folks looking for work via the internet and a helluva lot of folks who're there 'cause they've got nowhere else to go. Lots of books are marked as "damaged by Katrina" which is sort of heartbreaking. I picked out a couple of books, including a novelization of The Third Man, a Harlan Ellison collection, I, Claudius and a book called Bridge Of Birds by Barry Hughart. The latter is basically Pratchett-esque detective novel set in ancient China, and it's pretty good. I've plowed through about a third of it this evening, and I wouldn't be surprised if I finish it before the weekend's out.
I also apparently left the dad-blamed door unlocked when I went to the library, so it was open to God and everybody for about two hours this afternoon. Luckily, none of the critters escaped nor did anyone come in and take stuff. I'm assuming the Roomie didn't come back before she came in this evening, and it's possible the property manager came by for some reason, as he's left the door open before. But it was probably me, though I could've sworn I locked the damn thing. My short-term memory's worse than when I was smoking copious amounts of weed on a regular basis, and it's starting to get irritating. Life's tedious enough without having to pay that close attention to every little detail.
That's about it. I stayed in tonight and read, and I'm calling it a relatively early night. Got work this week, just me and Snoop the whole three days, so I'm assuming it will be a massive bummer from start to finish. Ugh. I'm doing the Craigslist thing, but I'll be damned if I can think of anything I want to do or feel capable of doing besides cooking, and I really don't want to do that. Ah, well.
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