So it's Friday and I'm in a fabulous mood. Or as they say in French, un mood très fabu. Sure, work is hectic at best, but it's gorgeous outside and I'm just unjustifiably chipper today.I renewed my driver's license today at lunch. I thought about doing it through the mail or over the web, but decided against it. I wanted a new photo and new height. My license has said that I'm 5'10” since I first got one, because ... well, that's how tall I was at 15. But I decided after 10 years, I deserve credit for those other two inches. So I updated my height to a full six feet and my address and voter's registration and all that mess. Pretty painless all in all. The woman at the bank yesterday reminded me that my license expires this month. I told her my plan was to renew it today in person so I could get a new picture. She looks at the photo and then looks at me and nods her head. “Yeah, you're face has ... matured ... since this photo,” tapping the backs of her fingers against the underside of her chin as she peruses the photo. And I'm thinking “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” while I'm nodding my head in agreement. The photo's only four years old (ironically from when I changed my name). I look basically the same. Ok, so I lost twenty pounds since this photo but this is a picture of my face, not my ass (where most of those pounds were riding). Bah. Meryn Cadell says, that when you change on the inside people can't tell from the outside. That it's just “me ... same old.” But I suppose I wanted to get a new photo as a new marker for myself. That even though you can't really tell from the outside, there is lots going on inside. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Have a great weekend, y'all. I'm hoping to spend some time on the beach myself once I get free of this joint.