The next day, I get Launa and we head back up to the tax collector.
We wait in line for 30 minutes.
I get to the window.
The lady looks over the papers, the signatures, and our licenses. She notices that my name on the title is Mary Gross-Crank. I explain to her that when we bought the car, I hadn't yet changed my name with the Social Security Administration, so to avoid confusion on my credit report, I just hyphenated my name. She tells me that to finish the paperwork and get my shiny new Georgia license plate, I'll need to get a copy of my marriage license and bring it in to prove that I am me.
In a slightly (okay, maybe very) irritated voice I ask her if she will look over the paperwork and let me know what else I need to bring in, because this is my third trip over here for this exact purpose. She tells me she'll check and heads over to another lady for a consultation. She comes back in a few minutes and tells me that since I've been here so many times, they'll just go ahead and do it for me.
Alright guys. I'm serious. Georgia is a beautiful state. But moving here is the biggest pain in the rear! I cannot believe how many hoops there are to jump here! This is crazy! It's amazing there's not a mass exodus from this insane place! And I guess I'm living by the rule of threes when it comes to trying to become a legal citizen of Georgia: 3 times to the DMV, 3 times to the property tax office. 3 more times till I run, screaming and tearing my hair out, over the edge of a cliff!