Official

I am official in all the ways now.

This says I can drive and drink. Not that it's all that big of a whoop to drink out here... The Society for Personal Rights Curtailment On Behalf Of Religious Superstition has decreed that there be a lower alcohol content in Utah, and so there's a pink stamp on all the booze you get here to prove it (I'll have to show you all that in a later entry). So now it takes three beers instead of two. Also of note in this picture is that under height, that's actually an 8. Really.

This says I don't go to jail when I am driving. Unless I'm drinking. Note the Wile E. Coyote design on the plate. I knew there was a reason I liked living here. That's a cartoon representation of an actual arch at a place south of here called Moab. That's a future quest/blog entry as well. Wish I could show you what my license plate spells, because it's also pretty funny, but I know all of you are itching to steal my identity and masquerade as me, so your plans are THWARTED DO YOU HEAR ME THWARTED!
I have also recieved my official FAA Flight Attendant Certificate. That's a little credit card-looking thing that they tell you the FAA only gives to you so they can take it away from you when you do something stupid. But it's actually pretty nifty... it's got a lot of whereas and hereto on it, and a picture of that first plane at Kitty Hawk and the Wright Brothers. For all the little dumb things about this job, there are things that remind you that you're part of a long history of putting things in the air that don't belong there.