I Can't Tell You My Birthday Wishes

Being a year older feels good.

I live in Los Angeles, the epicenter of youthfulness fixation, and maybe because of that, I'm even happier to put another year under my belt and claim it: 39 years-old feels good!

It feels so good that I decided to kick it off at the California Department of Motor Vehicles, renewing my driver's license. 

I had to go in to take a new picture--I've renewed twice without a new picture, so I guess they have to eventually make sure I haven't gone totally LA and hooked myself up in a blond weave. I decided to do it on my birthday, to make it real official. 

Along the way, I learned a few DMV lessons:

1. Make sure people know you're walking past them in line because you have an appointment: Just say "Excuse me, I have an appointment." Let them know you aren't trying to cut them. Otherwise, folks become upset and get all loud. "S'cuse me. HEY. The line starts back there."

2. Take your own pen: The DMV employees won't lend you a pen and none of the pens available for public use work.

3. Guys will try to get their mack on EVEN in the DMV: "So, uh, yeah, I was peepin how you're sitting here all sexy, waiting for your appointment."

Waiting WITH my kids. Blank Stare.

I chased away the DMV drama with a chai and some retail therapy.

And...my day ended  like this:

I made a bunch of wishes. Yes, world peace was one of them. No, I'm not going to tell you the rest of the wishes. If I do, they won't come true.