licensed to ill

I definitely owe WhiskeyMarie a drink or something after she (along with my strange train of thought) helped me realize that I had not renewed my driver’s license – in the beginning of May – like I was supposed to.

I’m actually not all that surprised that I forgot. I also forgot to renew at 21, too. But then it was because of all the things going on in my life.

The Man and I had been dating off and on for about a year and a half. I was staying at his house full time, watching the kids while he worked. I didn’t have a regular job and he was piss broke so to get money for my own cigarettes, gas – even milk and food for the kids occasionally – I would go to my mom’s and clean for cash.

To put it very simply, we were having problems. His friend, E, was also staying at the apartment - the two-bedroom apartment in which the kids had their own rooms. So we ALL slept in the living room.

My 21st birthday was a complete bomb. Unbeknownst to me, He and E supposedly had a plan to act as though they weren’t going to have a babysitter to take me out then they were going to SURPRISE me later (good idea!). Then I overheard him that afternoon on the phone with Scari, telling her that he was going to a Magic Tournament and asked her to take the kids. I flipped the hell out. Why wouldn’t I? We were already having problems – most of which I blame on the fact that every move he made as a boyfriend was judged and ridiculed by his friend. I was positive that E had convinced him to actually go do something else on my birthday. The really crappy part was that E was once one of my best friends.

Even though I had spent the afternoon being a sobbing, psychotic mess, my friends insisted that I go out. We went to a hole-in-the-wall bowling alley where I didn’t even get carded. I quickly got drunk and made a complete ass out of myself screaming something to the effect of “And none of these losers will even hit on me!!!”

I woke sometime the next day and The Man and E said they were headed up north overnight to party with E’s sister and her friends. And I wasn’t invited.

After he left, I packed all my stuff and took it to my car.

Then I went back up and played “Three Libras” by A Perfect Circle over and over while I poured my heart out in a three-page letter. I talked about how I’d given him all of me and all I got in return is neglect and coldness. How I’d given up my life to care for his kids and he wouldn’t even make Scari use a car seat (Sunshine was only 2!). How I put all my emotion and love into him and I’d finally realized I would never get it back. And just to be nice, I’d leave the vacuum my mom borrowed us until he got a new one. Fittingly enough, he returned Mother’s Day to find my note.

I moved back into my mom’s. I spent the entire next day crying with PM. We’d decided that if he was really worth all my tears and suffering, and love, that he would call me after we had a little cool down time.

Instead, I got a call from another friend. “Who’s that bitch that answered The Man’s phone?” she asked. “I just called there and it didn’t sound like you, so I asked, ‘Is Amy there?’ and she yelled ‘NO!’ and hung up.”

That mother fucker.

I called his house and it was Scari. “Where’s The Man?” I demanded.

“None of your business.” She laughed, then hung up.

I called over to our mutual friend’s house and the wife said he was over playing Magic.

“You have a lot of nerve, you selfish prick! How the fuck could you have her over there THE DAY AFTER I LEFT!?!?!?!” I screamed into the phone after she’d given it to him.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He coolly replied.

“Well, I’ll tell you what – I’ll be there tomorrow morning to get my vacuum, you can talk to me about it then – and if that bitch is there I’m going to kick her fucking ass.”

“Whatever,” he said and hung up.

The next morning, I looked HOT. I had my big boots on, a totally booby shirt, my tight jeans. I wanted to make him miss me! I scanned the parking lot for Scari’s car and was pleased to not see it – that meant we’d actually be able to talk. So PM waited in the car.

When he met me halfway down the apartment staircase, I knew - I was wrong. “She’s here, isn’t she?” I said with a devilish grin and a twinkle in my eye that few people have seen. It was on.

I darted up the stairs and through the apartment door. She was drying her hair in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

I could feel The Man directly behind me, but I didn’t stop. I ran as fast as I could and wound up my arm on the way there. Almost simultaneously, my fist made contact with her head and The Man grabbed me from behind and threw me on the ground. Or at least that’s what he meant to do. He really threw me into a doorjamb, then onto the floor. He held me down as I glared into his eyes and told him what a loser he was for doing what he did to me. He told me to get out and never come back. “Like I would come back you fucking loser!!!” I screamed from the street.

I hopped into the car and peeled off, “Are they going to call the cops!?” PM shrieked.

“Like they would – she’s a crackhead and E’s got a warrant….wait…where’s E? And her car?”

At that moment, we met E coming out of a fast food parking lot. The look on his face when he caught my glare can only be described as “Oh, Shit!”

I rode his bumper the whole way back to the apartment parking lot. It was stupid, but I knew he didn’t have a license – plus he was “Wanted” – and she didn’t have insurance. What could they do?

I gave up trying to – I don’t know – scare E. And went straight down the highway to home. It was at that moment that I realized that both my vehicle tabs and my driver’s license were expired. “Do they know that?” PM asked.

Just to be safe, I headed straight to the license center. In all my hotness, with adrenaline still pumping hard through my veins, and a smug “Yeah, I hit that bitch” look on my face – I had my picture taken. And I couldn’t have asked for a better one…


This would also explain why I conveniently forgot to renew this time. That weight? I changed that when I moved. I was not 140 in that picture. I am also not 140 now – but it goes the other way. I think I might have forgotten how to apply my “Sexy Face” (aka makeup). I was definitely hit with a case of The Uglies this morning. I’ll get over it. It’s only four years with the next picture. I have also started planning a scheme to delete my new picture from the database if it turns out really bad. Anyone out there with hacking capabilities?

Also, don’t be too hard on The Man. We got past it (obviously) and while it sure wasn’t the first time we’d broken up…it was the last. I’ll tell you about that another time – including what happened to me afterward. ;)

**Updated 7-27-07...I've had a couple people ask, so I will oblige you with the new picture. It is not nearly as great as the last one, but not so bad I won't put it online. ;)

I was really mad this time, too, but not the same kind of mad. Not the Sexy Mad. Okay, really over it now.