If you’ve read my columns about minimalistic living: adapting to Solana Beach health, wealth and wardrobe conformity (female: leggings, workout bra, or at night show it or stow it. Male, bare-chested or T-shirt with their business logo on the back.) I add this confession, if  the community residents were any happier than what I’ve observed I’d get therapy.

This week I became LEGITIMATE.

My New Mexico driver’s license expired in Sept 2024. I was living in my home in Saratoga, and attempted to gather the fourteen documents to show proof of residence, and get a NY driver’s license.  I loved my turquoise NM license plates, and did not think I’d be  there longer than a year, so I didn’t renew. I drove sparingly, as the village was in walking distance and I had Amazon delivery. 

In January 2026 I moved into a hotel and my car was transported by an auto moving company. I spent about thirty hours reviewing the documents I needed to get a CA license moving from out of state. I managed to get registration through my CA insurance agent, and CA auto insurance but DMV wanted proof of residence, (hotels not accepted) so I used Uber. I finally found my studio in May, and used all my time furnishing, and avoided the DMV. Friends offered to drive me there, and they or I got sidetracked.

Finally, a friend here said,

“ Loulou you’ve got to get it done. We’ll go Monday, this week.” I bought the cheat sheet, (out of staters have to take the written test) and studied it all weekend. Andrew, my friend, we met at five years old, called and said,

“ Did you get an appointment?”

“ There’s a line of twenty-five, and besides the dice didn’t roll to seven.”

“Loulou, forget the dice and the line, they go fast.”

“ I’ll be over at ten o clock.”

I panicked and reviewed my folder of documents the online DMV said I needed: Birth certificate, certificate of sale, insurance, registration, social security card, proof of residence , passport, and DMV security code.   

My phone maps app was taken over by google so I couldn’t access directions, I kept getting an error. So, I handwrote them on a  page and met Andrew.

“ You have the directions on GPS, I don’t know where San Marcos is exactly, do you?”

“Not to make this more complex, I couldn’t access the app so I wrote them down.”

“ That’s good, you have all your documents?”

“ Everything but height and weight, he laughed and we took off on the freeway, Andrew  is a conversant man and because we grew up in the same class through high school we can speak, uninhibited. Childhood friends shared innocence, and the rarity of calculated devious behavior. Our trust is dependable and accountable.

“Do you know why I wore all pink?”

“Cause you … I have no idea.”

“ Men and women love pink, so if I get a male clerk, he’ll like it and so will a female.”

“ Where’d you get that tidbit?”

“Me, people like pink, and a search, pink evokes love and compassion.” Our conversation leaped from old friends to our parent’s, to tech complaints, going canoeing on a lake we passed, diet, aging, politics and then…

“ Do we turn here?”

“ Yes, we go east and then turn on San Marcos Boulevard for one mile and then Rancheros for three miles, and then..

“Okay, two directions at a time.”

After five miles of driving through residential neighborhoods, I knew we were lost. Andrew listened when I suggested we turn back, and we finally arrived at the DMV.

“My ex wouldn’t listen to my directions for thirty-five years. Thank you for listening! You know men are famous for refusing driving directions.”

“Hey, I’m perfect”

To be continued.

High School.