Terrorist Naomi and her accomplice RayRay

****Disclaimer: This is my attempt to make the longest blog entry ever. So if you don't want to read for an hour with no pictures to entertain you...then go find another way to waste your time. After all, this is MY blog/journal.ha!****

There are a lot of things a girl has to do once she gets married and changes her name. One of which, i have just now gotten around to doing. So, on my lunch break on Monday, I literally ran to my car, and drove to the federal Building to get a new social security card with my new name on it. Earlier, i had gotten all the forms printed out from the website, had gathered all my needed information and liscenses, and had compiled everything in a neat little folder.

Frustration #1: I get to the Federal building, and lo and behold....there is NO PARKING...anywhere. The only spaces i see are reserved ones and ones with signs that say, NO PARKING ANYTIME. hmmm...well that seems like a waste of space to have row upon row of lined spots that should not be used EVER for parking. Well, finally i just parked in a church parking lot (which also had a 'only parking for church use only. all others will be towed' sign). I just parked and ran two blocks to the building saying a little prayer that even if they did call the tow truck, they would not have enough time to get there, hook up my car and leave, before i was back in the parking lot.

Frustration #2
I try to walk in the building, but then notice a sign that says, 'employees only, all others use the front entrance'.
However, there was no sign that said 'the front entrance is up those 6 flights of stairs on your left'.
uggh. stairs.

Frustration # 3

I walk in to the building and drop my purse on the counter for the security guy to go through. He asks, "do you have any Mace, or knives in here?"
I sort of laugh and say, " No, i left them all at home."

So, he puts my purse through the scanner thingy, and i walk through the metal detector.
... BEEP...
So i go back to the start, and try again...

...BEEP...
This time, the security guard kept making me back up...and then told me to walk faster through it.

I finally get through, and the other security guard stops me and says, "ma'am, you have a knife and a fork in here, we can't let you in"

At this point, i'm a little confused at how i have a fork or a knife in my purse, so i start to rummage through it.

lo and behold, a metal FORK! yes, a FORK! I had brought my lunch to work one day, and had ran out of plastic forks, so i brought one of our own. And all you women out there know that sometimes things get LOST in the black hole otherwise known as your purse.

The security guard also accuses me of having a knife in my purse. Now THIS i know i do not have, because i'm not even sure if i own a pocket knife.

So, he proceeds to go through my purse, dumping out my temple recommend, my tampons, money, wallet, ipod, camera, pretty much everything he's just sorting through. Then he pulls out a pin drive, like "a-HA, i found it". I look at him and say, "um... that's a Pin drive, not a knife"

He scanned my purse again (because, obviously, i MUST have been lying...) and did not find a knife.

Frustration #4
When i ask if i can just leave the fork at the front desk, or something, he refuses, saying i have to walk all the way back out to my car and then come back in.

Well, i'm sorry...i only have an hour on my lunch break, so i am not trudging back down 6flights of stairs running 2 blocks to my car, and then doing this all over again.
So...i walk back outside...over to a little park bench, and place my fork in the dirt under the bench.

Then, i walk myself BACK inside to the security desk.

Frustration #5
I have to go through this all again. Metal detector....BEEP....try again....BEEP....try again...BEEP...then the security officer just says, "just go on".
FINALLY...from here it should be easy, right?

I find the office on the 11th floor, and walk in to take a number. WOW...this place is crowded and smells disgusting. (mentally counting my blessings for not working here)

ok. i'm #90. They are now helping #85. Not to bad...this could possibly happen today. I take a seat by a sweet little elderly couple. to wait my turn with the rest of them.
*take note that this is 1:30, already, and i have to be back at my desk at 2*

Frustration #6
Homeless man approaches me and asks if he can sit by me. (ok...its not like i can say, 'no, you man not sit by me because you are a little on the sketchy side and you smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol.')
I say, "sure"

Then, comes the talking...and talking and talking.
His names RayRay and he's a stand up comedian from NY and Washington areas (this i doubt, since he is in Columbia, sc carring a plastic bag full of clothes and reeks of month old dirty rot, and cigarettes) Judging by the lack of teeth and shabbiness, and overall Sketchiness, I would even bet that he is also delusional, and has not been a stand up comedian in years, or ever for that matter.

While he talks about how funny he is, and how much people love him, and how he was once on a subway, and had people laughing so much that they missed their stop, and how he has a daughter, and how i should have kids, and about how he's here to get an advancement on his check because he wants a hotel room to stay in....and i nod and sit clutching my bag and little red notebook like its the only thing keeping me alive.

Frustration #7
I flinch everytime he toches my hand, as if we've been old friends forever.
Seriously, am i the only one who has a personal space bubble? This bubble can only be popped when i KNOW you and actually LIKE you. Otherwise, you stay on YOUR side of the bubble, and i will stay on mine, thank you very much.

glance at the clock...hmmm...its only been 5 minutes? really??
five minutes passed....and only one number difference. finally, when the clock gets to 1:40, i just stand up, pass my number (as in 'wait in line number', NOT phone number) to RayRay and say, "Here's this number, if you want it. I don't have time for this."

And i just walk out. The stench of a month dirty rot and stale cigarette smoke following me. (we'll just make that frustration #8)

Frustration #9
I get off the elevator to find out that i'm in the wrong place again. Obviously, the 1st floor is not the floor for visitors...only employees. Not even for exiting.

After going back up 1 floor, I walk out of the building, and over to the park bench. I lean over, and pick up my dirty fork, and proceed to walk the 6 flights of stairs and two blocks to my car, where i discover (happily, i might add) that my car is still there. *sigh*

Well, what could possibly be Frustration #10?
Yep, you got it....I STILL don't have a new social security card.
Which means....i have to go BACK to that horrid place!

oh, well....all in a life of a young terrorist, i guess.