Monthly Archives: February 2011

Jersey DMV Rocks… Hard!

By The Girlfriend Mom

I had to give up my New York state drivers license yesterday. I dreaded letting go. It wasn’t so much letting go of New York, as it was the acquisition of a New Jersey license. Jersey? Please.

It was impressed upon me, from a very early age that Jersey was, well, not New York, and therefore inferior. It’s the upper lip curl, or the one eyebrow raise, followed by the evil eye, that happens when New Yorkers hear anything to do with New Jersey. However, no reason was ever given, at least not to me. When I told my parents that my boyfriend wasn’t Jewish and lived in New Jersey, they replied, “Really? Jersey?” I could see the disappointment in their eyes.

It was one of those things that I never questioned, because, I was either living in Los Angeles or in New York. That is until a year ago when I moved to the Garden State. I moved in with my man because he didn’t want to be away from his kids. I’m so sure. What’s the big deal? There just kids. In a few years their not going to want to have anything to do with you anyway. Besides, that’s why there’s Facebook and Skype. I couldn’t understand why he was being so selfish.

Maybe people only see the New Jersey Turnpike with it’s smoke stacks looming over Newark, or they think of Snooki three sheets to the wind, punching someone in the face. I don’t know, but I can tell you that after my experience at the DMV, yesterday, I am liking this hated state more and more.

It was one of those days where I accomplished a weeks worth of work all before noon. It started with a court appearance at 8:30 in the morning because Ponch and John said I failed to yield. I say, you’re just power hungry douces with guns, who weren’t breastfed as babies. That being said (or thought) in order to get the two points off my license I had to plead my case in court. I drove to Neptune City (I’m not making it up) where the courthouse building is also the library and locksmith. I’m sure there’s a connection but it’s lost on me at the moment.

I checked in at the only office window on the floor and asked the nice lady behind the glass, what courtroom I was to go to. She looked at me with a, “You’re not from round here are ya?” expression and I forced a smile. “There’s only one courtroom.” And with that, I turned on my heels and sat down in the only courtroom in the Neptune City Courthouse.

My name was the second to be called, and the judge asked me if I wanted to speak to the prosecutor. Sure, I’ll talk to anyone. In the span of eight minutes, I plead down to a no points charge, (unsafe driving) which will haunt me till my dying day because I am the safest driver out there. Ask anybody. I paid the outrageously absurd (redundant) $441 (Jersey needs the money) and I was back in my car.

Next stop the Eatontown DMV. I’ve lived in three other states, and have needed three different licenses, and in each DMV I’ve finished entire novels while standing in line. And in each one, I’d leave with a temporary license with the new one mailed to me within 7-10 days.

Not here. It took 20 minutes for me to fill out the necessary paperwork, take a picture, which I have to say is pretty good, and leave with my new New Jersey license in hand. It was incredible. I’m not sure why I was so impressed but for this experience alone, people should give the Garden State a break.

I did lie about my height. I know, people usually lie about their weight. I gave myself an extra inch which, given all the Pilates that I do, is not completely unreasonable. And really who’s measuring me out there on the streets?

More About Dani:
Dani is a Virgo, writer, Pilates Instructor, Kindle lover, sleep enthusiast, world traveler and ‘girlfriend mother’ to her boyfriend’s two kids. Whatever the hell that means.

Follow Dani on Twitter @pilatecologist
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Click Here To Read Dani’s Blog: Am I Still Talking?

Posted in dani alpert, dmv, new jersey, That's Life

I Know This Much Is True

By Deanna

1) You teach people how to treat you – treat yourself with RESPECT.

2) I just ran eight (8) miles, BOO YA!!!


That’s me running, don’t I look GREAT?!

3) I love Twitter more than Facebook, case in point: Angela at @ang_c, follow her now, HECK follow EVERYONE!!!

4) I have just enough HTML skills to center a caption. Brilliant.

5) Douchtastic is my new favorite word, courtsey of: Fond of the Silliness

Posted in deanna, respect, running, That's Life

A Tweak here, a Tweak there…

By Deanna

It’s official. My compassion “gene” needs to be tweaked. I think when God was handing them out my ADD must have kicked into high gear and I was off chasing some Angel’s beautiful sparkly wings. Think I’m kidding? Well, it’s true, ask my kids.

The other day the seven year old tripped as he was running up the stairs; as he screamed in pain and fell down clutching his shin tears streamed down his face, I shot from the computer “you okay?”, through his pain and tears he shouted back to me “that’s all you got for me is a YOU’RE OKAY?”. My brain clicked: “DUH, get off your ass and hug the little bugger” I got up (after I tweeted how much I loved Pink’s new song) and gave him a great big bear hug. My son had PROMPTED me to hug him. Not a proud Mommy moment, at all.

Think that’s bad? Two hours later my husband and I were at our relay race in the cold bitter winter, winds whipping around at least 5 miles per hour, cheeks rosy, hands numb – that cold. I bundled my sons up from head-to-toe, figured when the race started we can sit in the warmth of the car in the meantime, the boys were running around all over the place playing in the park, chasing each other, weaving like cheetahs in and out of our legs when the little one fell hands first into a puddle, jacket covered in mud and hands brown as molasses, I bent down and said “you okay” he looked like a pig rolling back and forth when a STRANGER came over and picked him up – as his parents blushed in embarrassment. Not a proud mommy moment, at all.

One would think that I’d learn from these moments? Right? A normal mother would, the ‘Unnatural Mother’ not so much. Two days later we’re on our mini-vacation, we boarded the elevator to head down to the hotel pool when the seven year old acted as cool as his eight year old cousin and pretended to be Spiderman; he wedged himself on top of the elevator handrails squeezing his tiny little tush on a quarter inch piece of metal, as the elevator reached our destination we heard a loud bang – I didn’t even react I thought it was the elevator reaching the floor until I saw the seven year old with his head in his hands and in tears – he banged his head against the elevator wall – my sister ran to his aide as I stood in disbelief. She shot me a look as if I was a piranha in a sea of guppies. Not a proud mommy moment, at all.

Three incidents and some self-reflection later leads me to believe that I got work to do – I gotta start working on my compassion, not sure how do to that but maybe someone on Twitter can help me.

Posted in deanna, kids hurt, no compassion, no hugs, That's Life, The Little Buggers