Archive | February, 2012

Social Security Administration > NY DMV

27 Feb

Here is the latest update for those of you who have been paying attention to my on-going identification saga.  (For those of you who haven’t, you can either continue to not pay attention or you can update yourself here and here.)  Here is the next, and hopefully last, installment of my story.  Last week when I went to the Social Security Office* to try and obtain a new card, I overheard a lady behind the counter tell a woman to make sure that her name appeared on the mailbox that corresponds with her apartment.  Without the name, the United States Postal Service would not deliver the Social Security Card, the gatekeeper for the New York State driver’s license.  Note to self… do NOT forget to write your name on the mailbox.  So, what did I do?  I forgot to write my name on the mailbox.  Actually, backtrack.  It’s not so much that I forgot, more that they said I had to wait 10 days to 2 weeks to receive my replacement card so I figured I had plenty of time to update the mailbox (also, I totally forgot).  Anyway, I came home today, Monday, less than a week after I went to the Social Security Office to request a new card and what was in my unmarked mailbox?  My new Social Security Card!  Which immediately led me to four conclusions:

1.  The Social Security Card is just as ridiculous a form of identification as I thought

2.  My mailman has gone rogue

3.  The USPS, as a dream I had a month ago predicted, is totally going to stop existing…thereby leaving the Social Security Card no means of conveyance and making it even more ridiculous than I already knew it was.

4.  The Social Security Administration is totally superior to the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles

Also, in other fun news, the car we are driving to New Orleans has Tennessee, not New York, plates.  Score.  The likelihood of us getting pulled over in Mississippi as I had feared just diminished considerably.  Our road trip, Three Girls One Cat, might just go off without a hitch.

*Capitalizing it makes it seem more legit and important.

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An Update! An Ultrasound!

24 Feb

I would like to first announce, for those of you who read my previous post, that I have successfully obtained my driver’s license.  The ways in which I went about doing this cannot be disclosed in a public forum, but suffice it to say that when me and my New York plate-sporting rental car get pulled over on our drive through Mississippi en route to New Orleans this coming week, I will be in possession of the proper documentation.  And not a moment too soon.

In other news, I am dismayed by an article I read today in the New York Times by Sabrina Tavernise entitled “Virginia Lawmakers Backtrack on Conception Bill.”  As many of you may have been following, Virginia recently introduced a personhood amendment very similar to the one that was defeated by Mississippi voters in mid November.  The initiative essentially defined a person “to include every human being from the moment of fertilization, cloning, or the functional equivalent thereof.”  So, no more abortion rights.  Serious road blocks to all kinds of contraception.  Really ugly stuff.  Virgina, however, threw in a little bonus by trying to require women seeking an abortion to undergo an involuntary vaginal ultrasound before being allowed to seek an abortion.*  I am, obviously, pleased that this bill has been quashed, for now.  I am not, however, pleased by this particular paragraph in this article where Tavernise says,

The rapid-fire procedural maneuvering came one day after Mr. McDonnell (governor of Virginia) ordered Republicans in the House of Delegates to soften a bill requiring a vaginal ultrasound before an abortion.  The new version, which requires a non-invasive abdominal ultrasound, appeared aimed at defusing a mounting controversy over the bill that included spoofs on television shows. (Italics mine.)

As far as I am concerned, any involuntary ultrasound, whether administered internally or externally, is invasive.  A woman is being forced, against her will, to undergo a procedure that is not of medical necessity.  There is no reason for it other than to shove the religious and “moral” beliefs of some** into the bodies of many.  I understand that, physically, it can easily be argued, and I would tend to agree, that an internal ultrasound is perhaps more physically invasive than an external one, but to say that women are so unthinking that they cannot be trusted to make the “right” decision unless they undergo this procedure is incredibly insulting.  Every woman is full well capable of deciding for herself what is right for her without seeing the development of a blob of cells in her, not the government’s, her uterus.  I was incredibly dismayed that it was a woman who wrote this article and that this acceptance of a required ultrasound of any kind is so unchallenged by so many that it would be mentioned as a return to the reasonable status quo.  There is nothing reasonable about this requirement and there is nothing non-invasive about it.  It is invasive as hell.

*I would love more than anything to go on a rant here about how incredibly unjust and inhumane this is, but I find myself incapable of reining my disgust in enough to write something that will get my point across.  Also, I imagine people who have read this far probably agree with me and therefore I would be preaching to the choir.

**I also would like to interject here my disgust with the all male panel that was slated to decide the issue concerning religious freedom and the mandate that requires health insurers to cover contraception in the United States.  It seems as though, and I think the lovely Republican Representative from California, Darrell Issa, would agree with me, that women don’t really matter when it comes to issues regarding their own health, of which contraception is one such issue.

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Only the Card Will Do

22 Feb

I’m all for the government, but these last few weeks dealing with government bureaucracy have really got me reevaluating some of my positions.  Anyone who has spent the better part of 3 days in government offices (in my case Social Security and two separate DMV outposts) can tell you, nothing there makes sense.

Day One.  Location, South Orange DMV Office, New Jersey.  Me and my mom.  We arrived at around 2:30 PM on Friday, February 10, 2012.  I was there looking for my New Jersey Driver History Abstract.  I had in hand my birth certificate, my passport, my ATM card, my health insurance card, and my necessary application.  I arrived at the front of the line, presented the attendant with my materials, and was asked for my driver’s license number.  Well, I didn’t have my driver’s license number because my license had been stolen.  The lady told me to call up Trenton and request my license number from them and then come back.  But surely the New Jersey DMV is automated and you have my number on file, I said.  No, I had to call Trenton.  Okay.  Called Trenton.  Guess what?  The lady was not authorized to give me my own license number over the phone.  I would have to apply by mail.  It could take up to 2 weeks to arrive.  Sigh.  Anger!  Disbelief!  Luckily, my mom is crafty.  Call your dad and get Bruce’s (our insurance agent, also my dad’s friend from high school) phone number.  He has it.  Called Dad.  Called Bruce.  Success!  (He found it in my police record.  I ran into a tree once in high school.  It was really icy.  I skidded.  The tree never knew what hit it.)  Filled in my number on the application and, huzzah!, New Jersey Driver’s History Abstract obtained!

Day Two.  Location, Atlantic Center DMV Office, Brooklyn.  Me and a lot of angry people.  I arrived for my first attempt at approximately 3:09 PM on Tuesday, February 21, 2012.  I had in hand my passport, my birth certificate, my ATM card, my health insurance card, my Con Edison bill, my New Jersey Driver History Abstract and my application.  I patiently waited in line while catching up on I Blame the Patriarchy on my Google Reader.  I arrived at the front of the line at approximately 4:15 PM.  I first handed the lady my Driver’s Abstract, which is two sided, one side has a seemingly useless list and the other side has the necessary information.  I accidentally handed it to her useless side up.  What am I supposed to do with this?, she snapped.  Turn it over, I replied.  She turned it over.  Massive sigh, even more massive eye roll.  Ugh, I hate these things, she spat.  I then handed her my passport and original birth certificate.  Social security card, she said.  Well, I don’t have one.  Well, you need one.  She took a blue piece of paper out of her stack, dated it, and said bring this with you when you come back and you can skip the line.  Well, at least that’s something.  I went to exit, feeling sorry for the people who had to use the bathroom and got locked out (they ingeniously moved the bathrooms to the hallway so if you have to go, you lose your hard earned spot in line.  As I said, ingenious.  As I didn’t say, I had to pee so bad I thought I was going to drown in my own urine.  Not able to withstand government bathrooms, I made my way to The Gate to have a glass of wine and fix my predicament.)

Day Three.  Location, my bedroom, Brooklyn.  I woke up and immediately started making phone calls, trying to figure out exactly what I needed to make sure I didn’t spend another useless day in line.  I first tried calling the New York State DMV helpline to inquire about Social Security number verification but all I got was an automated dude telling me the lines were busy.  No wait time, no nothing.  After telling me the address of the (impossible to navigate) website, he hung up on me.  Great.  So, I called the Social Security helpline* and a really nice lady answered the phone.  She told me all I had to do was go to the Social Security Office (she gave me the address and everything!) and they would issue me a paper saying I had requested a new card and voila!

Location, Social Security Office, Fulton Street, Brooklyn.  Me and a lot of surprisingly not-so-angry people.  I arrived at the office at approximately 10:55 AM.  The line snaked through the entire lobby.  There must’ve been at least 200 people in there.  Sigh.  I filled out my sheet and resigned myself to reading an article about Ron Paul.**  One of the security guards announced that there was no food or drink allowed and if, upon arriving at the metal detector in the front of the line, we were found with either of the aforementioned items, we would be sent to the back of the line.  It reeked of time out.  So, I sadly asked the gentleman in front of me to hold my place in line while I exited the building, dumped my coffee, and gently placed my uneaten pear in a safe spot near the entrance to the office in hopes that it would be there when I left.***  I finally, 2 hours later, made it to the front of the line.****  Oh, happy day!  I then went up to the upstairs line.  Forty-five minutes later I had a raging hunger headache and my official paper!  Huzzah.  Quick, get to the DMV office!

Location, Atlantic Center, DMV Office, Brooklyn.  Me and a lot of angry people.  Time, approximately 2:00 PM.  I hustled down Flatbush Avenue and back into the dreaded office with my blue get-out-of-line-free pass in hand.  I triumphantly walked up to the security guard. Bitch had dated it wrong.  Back in the line I went but not after having an argument with a toothless guard.  Too angry and disgusted to read my New Yorker.  Glaring at the yuppy in front of me reading a manual on scrap-booking.  Forty-five minutes later I made it to the front and, alas!, I was helped by my arch nemesis from the day before.  But I had her beat.  It was Rebekah for the win.  I gave her my abstract and again, the eye roll, the spat hatred of New Jersey Driver History Abstracts.  I gave her my passport and original birth certificate.  She asked for my Social Security card.  I handed her my newly obtained paper.  A sick grin came over her face.  And she said, only the card will do.

*I had called the Social Security helpline 6 months earlier to ask about getting a replacement card and the man on the phone told me that as long as I knew my SSN then the card was really unnecessary.  The days of me blindly believing employees of government agencies are over.  I will now call at least 5 times and believe whichever answer comes up most often.

**I am of the opinion that Ron Paul is a complete and total fruit cake.

***It wasn’t.

****But not before some 22 year old white girl named Bianca Skye (I snuck a look at her application) commented on the behavior of a woman with not one, not two, but three children all of whom appeared to be under the age of 5.  Bad parenting skills, she said.  I almost threw my magazine at her.  I regretted no longer having the pear.

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Everyone Loves an Ike

13 Feb

DISCLAIMER:  I made absolutely no attempt whatsoever to temper my anger in the following post.  The result is rambling. Proceed with caution.

So I know people have been all over this but I just can’t help myself… seriously, Grammys?  Chris Brown?  There aren’t plenty of other performers that you could have gotten to perform last night?  Other performers that, say, aren’t girlfriend beaters?  Especially considering that when Chris Brown was arrested on a felony assault charge three years ago it was at the pre-party for this very same awards show?  I am not arguing that the Grammys should be some sort of moral guide for how we should all behave out in the world, but this one sort of seemed like a no brainer.  So I thought to myself, self, you actually know nothing at all about the Grammys other than that it happens once a year and there is a lot of fanfare and you never watch it because you find award shows boring.  So, I decided to go on the Grammys website and see what it’s all about.  What follows is their official Mission Statement:

The GRAMMY Foundation was established in 1989 to cultivate the understanding, appreciation and advancement of the contribution of recorded music to American culture — from the artistic and technical legends of the past to the still unimagined musical breakthroughs of future generations of music professionals. The Foundation accomplishes this mission through programs and activities that engage the music industry and cultural community as well as the general public. The Foundation works in partnership year-round with The Recording Academy to bring national attention to important issues such as the value and impact of music and arts education and the urgency of preserving our rich cultural heritage.

So the Grammys achieves the mission of advancing the “contribution of recorded music” by engaging the “cultural community” and saying “hey, cultural community, we here at the Grammys have absolutely no problem with performers who beat up their girlfriends.”  This sends the message that not only is it okay to hit your girl and that the world will forgive you your misstep, but also that being beat up by your boyfriend actually isn’t as bad as you thought!  I mean, if the Grammys, and the music community, accept Chris Brown back, why shouldn’t you accept your boyfriend back?  And, while you’re at it, why don’t you go on one of your social networking sites and tweet or update your status to reflect the our societal acceptance of wife beating by making the point that “hey, Chris Brown, you’re sexy.  You can beat me up any time you want.”** Because apparently if the face is pretty then the fist must be, also.

According to their statement, the Grammys also works to bring to the forefront of conversation important issues such as “the value and impact of music.”  I would really like to ask the Grammys how they define the word “impact” because I would imagine the “impact” of a fist to your face would qualify as an important issue in the music world especially when that fist and that face both happened to belong to big new stars in the music biz.  But, apparently not.

I then decided to look and see who is on the board.  I had a sneaking suspicion that the board was made up largely by menfolk and wouldn’t you know it, I was right!  Of the 18 people on the Board of Directors, only 5 of them are women. (In the interest of full disclosure I have to say that the Grammy Foundation Executive Staff is split evenly by gender, with two male executives and 2 female.  The president, however, is male.)  Anyway, so now I have this image of these 18 board members sitting around this huge marble conference table (much like the one Kanye West tweeted about) and one of them goes “hey, guys, you know what would be an awesome idea?  Let’s have Chris Brown perform at the Grammys this year!  I mean, it’s been long enough, right?”  And after a little mild deliberation, they decide that, yes, 3 years is plenty of time for everyone to either forgive or forget that whole unfortunate “Rihanna incident” and, besides, she’s “over it” anyway so why shouldn’t we be?

Well, you know what?  I am not over it.  If Rihanna wants to forgive him for what he did, that is her decision, her prerogative, and hers alone and I have no judgement one way or the other.  But for a mainstream event, one that is watched by millions of people, many of them women, many of them young, to basically declare that smacking your girlfriend around is a forgivable offense, well that just makes me eyeballs itch.  For an organization that claims to prioritize the “impact of music” and the “urgency of preserving our rich cultural heritage” to condone this behavior through its approval of Chris Brown is disgusting.  All the Grammy Foundation has managed to preserve is the tendency for our “rich cultural heritage” to further reinforce our uniquely American breed of patriarchy.  Shame on you, Grammy Foundation, I will continue to not watch your award show.

**This post was inspired by my loving boyfriend who enjoys getting me riled up by sending me links to sites and articles that will raise my blood pressure, all from the safety of his desk in midtown.  The tasty nugget today featured a link to a list including the following actual status updates and tweets written by real women who some how exist in the world:  “call me crazy buttttttttt I would let Chris Brown beat me up anyyyy day” and “I don’t know why Rihanna complained.  Chris Brown could beat me up any time he wanted to” and “Dude, Chris Brown can punch me in the face as much as he wants to, just as long as he kisses it.”  This then sent me on a downward brain-spiral during which I lamented that the society in which I live is one where women actually play into, and make light of, situations that are clearly detrimental to their well-being.  Because, apparently, tweeting about being beat up by a good-looking man is reasonable.  Hopefully none of these women will ever be in the position that Rihanna was in but, if they are unfortunate enough to be a victim of domestic violence, let us hope they are met with more support and compassion than they, or the Grammys, have shown.

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Paper Towels Ruined My Morning

7 Feb

I don’t know about you but I am still annoyed about this whole Susan G. Komen/Planned Parenthood thing.  I am, obviously, annoyed because of the actual events as they occurred.  I think the apology issued by Komen was some bullshit.  I wish Karen Handel would have gotten fired rather than being able to resign her position.  I think it would have been great if Komen would have had better sense than to hire a woman who is not pro-woman in the first place for an organization that claims to be all about women’s health.  It would have been nice if they hadn’t played into that stereotype that we all love pink because, really, I think there are a lot of women who prefer, say, orange instead.  Forget the color, actually, how about if Komen actually gave credit where credit was due, say, to Charlotte Haley, the 68-year-old designer of the original pink ribbon which were actually peach-colored and were handmade in her dining room.  Self Magazine approached Charlotte Haley and asked her if they could join forces with her, use her ribbon, make it national.  Haley said no, they were too commercial.  So what did they do?  They took her ribbon, made it pink, and now here we are.  Here we are, stuck with pink, and all this political bullshit that now accompanies it.  Because clearly breast cancer research can’t just be about providing grants for breast cancer screening, or trying to find a cure, or at least finding a less painful, less invasive way of dealing with such a prevalent disease.  No, it has to be about a message.  About marketing.  About being the top dog.  About feeling good about yourself as a company.  About pink.

Okay so this morning I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, looking around when I noticed it.  There it was, a previously innocuous package of 12 rolls of Bounty paper towels and it was swathed in pink.  A giant pink ribbon covered the external packaging that held together all the individually wrapped bundles of non-recycled paper towels (see how deep the guilt goes? See what I get for not buying Marcal Small Steps or some other green version of the incredibly wasteful paper products that we all use?).  And I was angry.  Obviously, I was angry that we had decided to take the savings-route rather than the responsible-route, but mostly I was angry that I had inadvertently donated to this organization that was intentionally, and don’t let them tell you otherwise, intentionally fighting against something that I consider to be very important.  The right for a woman to make a choice.  A goddamn choice.  Which then reminded me of Representative Jackie Speier and what she said on the House floor.  (By the way, this is actually the flow of thoughts as they come to my head.  Paper towels –> not green –> bad choice –> no choice! –> Representative Jackie Speier.  Scary, isn’t it?) After listening to man after man talk about his disgust with abortion, his disgust, really, with women, which to me means his disgust with circumstance and with the fact that cost-cutting and disdain for minorities (largely by his very party, by the way) have left women, especially low-income, minority women, with few options when it came to reproductive health (options?  who needs options??) and the cost of having a child with basically no social safety net, she said the following:

“Mr. Chairman, I had really planned to speak about something else, but the gentleman from New Jersey has just put my stomach in knots, because I’m one of those women he spoke about just now. That procedure that you just talked about was a procedure that I endured…But for you to stand on this floor and to suggest as you have somehow this is a procedure that is either welcome or done cavalierly or done without any thought is preposterous.”

Bravo, Jackie Speier.  Bravo for saying something that so many of us think but either don’t have the opportunity, or the availability of words, to actually say.  I find it insulting that an organization that claims to be all about women, all about our health, would voluntarily hire someone who is so obviously against the best interest of women and think that we wouldn’t eventually find out about it.  I am also insulted that Howie Kurtz has decided that it was the media that forced the apology, bullshit apology that it was.  In fact, you know what Howie?  I will give you that lame-ass apology.  I will let you and your industry take full responsibility for that one because I hope that the rest of us can actually get something of substance.  Think about it this way:  pro-choice people are angry and are donating to Planned Parenthood instead of Komen.  Anti-choice people are angry that funding was restored and are donating to some organization involving the word “Family” in its title.  Komen is scared because the money that used to come easy isn’t coming easy anymore.  Because you know what speaks louder than the media, Howie?  Money.  That’s what.  So, as I said, take credit for that apology.  I’m still waiting for a real one. And I am also, by the way, waiting for all the Komen corporate sponsors to back out, one by one, so I can once again use my cancer-causing skin lotion and nuun rehydration tablets and listen to the New Kids on the Block and eat Beemster cheese without being thrown into fits of rage.

And finally, I am angry that my whole zen-like, tooth brushing experience this morning was completely ruined by my pink ribbon sighting and I wonder, will my morning ritual ever be the same?  At least as long as those paper towels are there?

Disclaimer:  I do not, to my knowledge use any cancer-causing skin lotion.  I only said that for effect.  I also don’t listen to New Kids on the Block while I eat Beemster cheese or at any other time.  I do, however, really like my nuun tablets and I am glad that I stocked up on them before this whole thing happened to I can justify using them because I don’t want them to go to waste.  Also, I enjoy run-on sentences.  The end.

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I’ll Push You Down the Stairs, Susan

1 Feb

Today in New York City it is a blistering 60 degrees on the 1st day of February and I am in an icy, icy mood. Why, you might ask?  Well, Susan G. Komen For the Cure, the originator of the ubiquitous pink ribbon campaign, has decided to jump on the evil, woman-hating bandwagon and defund Planned Parenthood.  This seemed rather counter-intuitive to me at first.  This organization has spent its more than 2 decades in existence raising money to try and find a cure for breast cancer and yet it has defunded an organization that provides something like 750,000 breast exams annually.  And why, you might ask?  Well, it appears as though there are two reasons for this.  The first reason, and the one cited by the organization itself, is that the Susan G. Komen foundation has recently changed its policy to say that any organization that is the focus of a congressional investigation will no longer receive money from the Komen coffers.  Planned Parenthood, it turns out, is in the middle of just such an investigation.  And what a strange coincidence this is considering the second reason for the defunding:  the recent appointment of former Georgia gubernatorial candidate Karen Handel as the vice president of Susan G. Komen.  Karen Handel is against gay marriage, civil unions, and adoption of children by gay parents.  Karen Handel supports an Arizona-style immigration law for Georgia and, presumably, for the entire country.  And, not surprisingly, Karen Handel is aggressively pro-life (she does, however, make exceptions to her stance in the case of rape, incest, or danger to the health of the mother…wow, thanks).  Karen Handel has now, through this ill-motivated action, made it even more difficult for low income women and those lacking health care to have access to low-cost breast exams.  She has allowed her “family values” to condemn countless women to a fate her new found home has worked tirelessly to cure.  And, sadly, Susan G. Komen has allowed her to tarnish its reputation by permitting this obviously politically-motivated move.  Bravo.  As a result, I have written a letter to the foundation.

To Whom it May Concern,

When I was a sophomore in high school, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer.  I remember every detail about that day as if it happened yesterday rather than nearly 13 years ago.  I was scared and angry and devastated.  My mom was, and is, my best friend in the world.  She is a survivor and I cannot help but think that efforts of organizations such as yours aided her in overcoming her disease.  That is why I write to you today.  My mom is a survivor not only because of all of the research that went into, and continues to go into, the fight against breast cancer but because her cancer was detected early thanks to a routine visit to her doctor.  Luckily for my mom, and for those who love her, we had health insurance and access to a good physician and a great hospital that aided her in detecting, and later in curing, her cancer.  So many women, however, do not have that luxury and that is why I write to you today.

I am certain you can imagine my utter dismay when I turned on my computer this morning and was confronted with an article that your organization, one that works tirelessly to help women overcome breast cancer, has cut off funding to Planned Parenthood, an institution that provides 750,000 breast exams to uninsured, low income women yearly.  How many of those women, I cannot help but wonder, received life-saving information that allowed them to seek proper treatment?  How many women, as Planned Parenthood clinics close across the country, will no longer have access to regular breast exams?  Cancer, as you know, is not something that decides who to infect according to class lines.  It is estimated that 1 in 8 women will develop breast cancer over the course of her lifetime.  Of the 750,000 women Planned Parenthood screens annually, that means roughly 9,000 of them will be diagnosed with breast cancer.  By cutting off funding to Planned Parenthood you have effectively abandoned those women.

According to a number of sources, your reason for cutting off funding is a result of the congressional investigation into Planned Parenthood’s spending of federal dollars.  You know as well as I do that this investigation is nothing more than a witch hunt designed to outlaw abortions nationwide.  The problem is that only 3% of services provided by Planned Parenthood are abortions.  Whether you are pro-life or pro-choice, do not let that 3% cloud your mind to the thousands of women saved annually by early detection of breast cancer.  Reinstate funding.

Sincerely,

Rebekah Frank

What I really wanted to send to my friends at Susan G. Komen was something way more angry, and way less reasonable, than the letter I sent.  What I wanted to say to them is what my friend Beth said to me this afternoon in an email:  Seriously, stop hiring women who hate women.  If only.

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