The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

If anyone ever needed proof that you can ruin a good thing, tune into the new season of Law and Order and be amazed. Now that Jerry Orbach has left, pending his new spinoff in January, they've replaced him with Dennis Farina, who from what I have seen, couldn't act himself out of a cardboard box. Maybe I'm being a bit harsh, or maybe it's the writing, but after giving him a chance (3 entirely too long episodes) I'm left unimpressed. I don't understand why they think they have to have the old cop/young cop dynamic. Just get me someone who doesn't make me cringe every time he's on screen and I'll try not to forego your show for CSI New York.

A Class Act

I caught the People Magazine spread of the Britney Spears/Federline wedding and received further proof that money can't buy you class. I believe that celebrities are entitled to somewhat of a private life. That said, if I, as a common citizen, ever did something as skanktastic as performing a pole dance at my wedding reception for my "pimpsuit" clad husband and similarly clothed wedding guests, I would hope my friends would have the decency to ridicule me in public.

The photo spread included an insert of the groom talking about how in love he is. The accompanying picture shows him putting on a rare watch worth hundreds of thousands of dollars while wearing at least one 2-3 carat diamond stud earring. If love is blind, it's only because Britney can't see him for all the glare coming from the jewelry she's bought him. Ironic that he was the one wearing a suit with "pimp" on the back when everyone knows she's the one funding this operation.

Anyone else think Britney's only 1 divorce and an invalid prenup away from losing her fortune and being the next guest on the Springer show?

Happiness is...

Going to Starbucks and ordering a pumpkin scone, only to be told that earlier they accidently broke off a corner on one, and they'd been waiting all morning for someone to order one so that they could give it away for free.

What can I say, some days it doesn't take much to make me happy.

However, happiness slightly dampered when she turned to announce to the other employees, and hence the whole store, that they finally had someone willing to take the free scone... and they cheered. Had flashbacks of buying my Saturn and crazy Saturn salespeople being called to my car to take pictures, clap, blow noise horns, and whatever else was appropriate to "congratulate the newest Saturn owner." Only at Starbucks I didn't have the joy of hitting the gas pedal and trying to see how many employees I could potentially run over while they tried to take one more Polaroid of me with my new car.

The Trial Run

I'm napping on Friday afternoon, the activity of choice for non-class days, when I start dreaming that the phone is ringing. Figuring it wasn't worth hopping out of bed for, I ignore it. Then my cell phone rings. Then the house phone. Then the cell phone and the house phone at the same time. So I decide maybe I should get one of them.

I choose the cell phone, and it's my sister. She tells me she's on her way to my house and I should be ready to leave in 2 minutes because we're on the way to her doctor's office since she called him and he thinks she's in labor. This is shortly after the lunch where we discussed her suitcase, but I figure now is not the time to joke that I have not packed my bag for the hospital and am not prepared to go. Instead, I spend about 1 min trying to make my hair stop standing out completely on the side of my head and 50 seconds calling my mom back and explaining that; yes I am going to the doctor with A, and no, I promise I won't let her drive herself.

So A arrives, I get to drive her mini-car (i.e. the Chevy Aveo) and she spends the whole 30 min ride telling me how she's going to feel like a moron if she gets there and it's nothing, and I have to spend 30 minutes appeasing her and reminding her that it was her doctor who told her to come in. And then we spent 10 min on the phone explaining to my mom that we'll call her as soon as we know anything. At which poing I assure my sister that they're probably on tier 5 of the church prayer chain by that time.

When we get there, she's the only person there, and she informs me that in all the times she's been to his office, she's never seen another patient there. At which point I wonder if this has never made her nervous and make a note that if for some godforsaken reason I end up living in the Jesus Town at a point when I'm expecting, I will never pride myself on being this doctor's only patient.

Anyway, long story short, he comes, he sees her, tells her it's nothing and to come back on Tues. My sister now feels like that woman who rushes to the hospital thinking she's in labor when she only has heartburn. I made her feel better by taking her to the Spaghetti Shop, (which is a big step since she loves the place and I hate it) and ordering her extra garlic bread to take home with her. Who says I'm not a good fill-in?

Mindless Moments

My sister is 11 days away from her due date. I'm sitting across from her at lunch the other day, and she tells me that she has her suitcase packed. And my response? "Oooh, where are you going?" She gave me the "you're such an idiot" smirk that is taught to all older sisters at birth, then proceeded to tell everyone in the family so they could bring it up in conversation all weekend.

Kids these days.

Elementary teachers these days are dealing with a new problem. My mom's school recently had to address the issue of "doing their ABCs". Apparently, kids take an eraser and rub it back and forth on their skin until they "burn" it, and then a welt forms. They call this "doing my ABCs". After a few days, the welt goes away and usually a scar forms. My mom has a couple of 4th graders in her class with these scars on their arms and hands.

What's up with these kids? I don't get the penchant for self-mutilation. The most dangerous thing a kid ever did when I was in elementary was to shave his eyebrows off. They of course grew back. Are kids getting dumber?

I'm Listening

No syndicated radio programming makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a dull object more that Delilah on the radio. In my mid-drive music crisis, I found a station that was playing music, as opposed to those playing static because the area between Indy and the Jesus Town is radio signal abyss. But to my dismay, as soon as the song ended, I heard the voice and groaned out loud.

For those not familiar, Delilah is an "easy listening", call in DJ who receives calls from the lovelorn or the so in love I can't see straight and then plays a song for them. My sister used to listen to it when confined to her dorm at the convent, ergo Bible College, because she wasn't allowed to have anyone over to visit after 9, and no one of the male sex in her room ever. At which point, the Jesus Town had no station that would play such emotionally charged radio, and for once in my life I was thankful I lived there.

A typical call goes something like this:
(not an actual coversation but embellished for effect, in case you needed to be told that and are by chance some obsessed fan currently wearing his "I love Delilah" t-shirt and are hell bent on defending her honor on a blog that nobody reads)

Caller: Hello, I'm a long time listener but first time caller. I was hoping you could play a song for me and my fiance.
Delilah: That's great, how long have you been engaged.
Caller: Oh, about 4 years. We're getting married when he gets paroled.
Delilah: So you're fiance is in prison?
Caller: Yeah, we actually met there. I attended his parole hearing. He's in jail for killing my boyfriend, but he didn't do it on purpose. It was all a mistake. See, my Larry, was trying to make hisself some sammiches, and the only knife he had was his hunting knife. And it was dirty, so he was trying to clean it off on Joe's shirt. That's my dead boyfriend. Only Joe moved when Larry went to clean it, and the knife slipped. And Joe kept jumping and before they knew what happened, the knife had slipped 42 times and Joe was dead.
Delilah: Well that sounds terrible. Sometimes, no matter how much we try, people don't want to understand that there can be perfectly good explanations for accidents. It's much easier just to point the finger.
Caller: Yeah, but he's up for parole again in 3 years so we'll get married then.
Delilah: You sound like someone very much in love. I'm sure with your love and support the physical bars between you will disappear and you'll be joined together for eternity. I know just the song for you.

And then she proceeds to play a song called "Prisoner of Love" or "I'm chained to your heart" or otherwise cheesily titled song mentioning prison and jail. Makes me want to never press the AM/FM button again.

And the Winner Is...

In the spirit of tonight's Emmy Awards, I've selected my winner for best call in an NFL game.

For those unfamiliar with standard protocol, usually a ref will say, "False start, #81" or the like. But in tonight's Bengals/Dolphins game, the ref says "False Start, everyone but the center." Nice

Free to Good Home

Ok, I'm resorting to the blog advertising for this important matter. My sister needs to give away her cat ASAP because they have the baby coming. She had a family who was going to take him, and they've backed out at the last minute. So she's looking for a replacement owner so that the cat doesn't have to be taken to the pound.

It's a male, long haired, black and white "tuxedo" cat. He's 3 years old, fixed, and declawed. He's good natured, though somewhat shy, and likes to sit on my sister's lap at "talk" to her when she gets home. My parents have the twin to her cat, and we'd take him if we didn't already have 3 cats. Here is a pic of my mom's cat when he was younger, and her cat is nearly identical. She's supposed to be bringing me a pic of her cat so I can put it up with this post, but for now, that will give you an idea.

If anyone is interested in a cat, or knows someone who is, either email me or comment. My sister never really wanted to give away the cat but her husband has given her the ultimatum. So as soon as she can find a good home for him, she'll have one less thing to worry about.

Above and Beyond the Call of Friendship

A friend knows who your favorite band is.

A good friend knows who your favorite band is and goes to the library to check out their live CD/DVD combo because he knows you don't have it.

Update: 10 bucks.

Edited: After better judgment, I realize I got my rant out, but don't need to leave this up for all the world to see. Chuck made some valid points, but I think I did also. So we're leaving the topic for now.

For those just dying to know the fate of my 10 dollars, I do have an update. I visited the school cafeteria, which we'll just call 'Cartwheels' and pled my case. Long story short, she came back and wrote my name, her name, and the words "10 dollars, law school" and handed it to me explaining it was a credit I could cash in at Cartwheels because she confirmed that the drawer was not over the other day. All of which is fine since I do shop there frequently as it's the only option for food in the building.

Red Meat, White Meat, Don't Eat, Pig's Feet

After Energy Spatula perfected my world yesterday with a "Just Because" post about Christian Bale, I headed over to the IMDB to check out his profile. In his bio section, there was a line that said something like, After reading 'Charlotte's Web', Christian refuses to eat red meat."

Hmmm. If I were going to make a statement about not eating Wilbur (which I am assuming is what he was trying to do), I think I would have given up white meat being as Wilbur is made of pork.

Double Vision

My parents have formed an unhealty addiction to MSNBC lately. While watching last night, I noticed something a bit uncanny.

Exhibit A and Exhibit B

Which of the above is IU Law Professor Bradford, and which is MSNBC Correspondent Ron Reagan? Am I the only one who thinks there is a resemblance?

[Obviously, no disrespect is intended for Prof. Bradford by this comparison. It's just that I can't watch MSNBC now without getting heart palpitations and sweaty palms fearing I am about to be called on for a property case which I read, but which will inevitably come out as mumbo jumbo if I try to open my mouth.]

Knee Deep

Maybe it was karma for something I've done recently, maybe it was the shoes I was wearing, or maybe it's just the fact that I'm a klutz, but call it what you will, I took a nasty spill last night and landed on my knee. It actually wasn't a complete fall so much as a movement resembling a kneel. Regardless, I find myself immobilized on the couch this morning, doped up on ibuprofin and trying to numb out the knee with ice pack after ice pack.

My mother is angry with me because I refuse to go to the hospital to have it looked at, while my dad and I adhere to the "walk it off" form of treatment. Which is proving quite difficult since I can't bend my leg. It's more of a stumble it off motion as it were. But the swelling has gone down and I believe I'm on the way to recovery. I don't ascribe to my mom's theory that I fractured my patella, which is why I'm choosing the lie around and heal myself type of therapy.

Afterall, this isn't my first time to do this. It is my "bad knee" which ironically resulted from falling in this manner when I was 10. The "double knee cap" look is quite attractive in my opinion. Maybe I'll keep it for a while.

11 dollar Cokes

After not sleeping well last night, I found myself needing caffiene around the middle of my afternoon class today. So during our 6 minute break, I headed downstairs to grab a Diet Coke. Usually I just visit the vending machines since they are 9 cents cheaper than buying them in our little cafeteria thing, but since all I had was a 20, I went ahead and bought one from the cafe, got my change, shoved it in my wallet, and went back up to class. Later at dinner, I reach into my wallet and find that I only have 9 dollars instead of 19. The new chick at the register shorted me $10. This revelation, much later in the day, only served to piss me off, and I was still griping about it when I got home an hour later.

[As a sidenote, it's not difficult for me to know exactly how much money I have on me, because family tradition dictates that we never have more than about $30 cash on us at any time. We're a check/debit card family. One winter our neighbors shoveled our driveway, and when we went to pay them we could only scrounge up $8.75 total from the 5 of us. So when $10 is missing, I know it.]

I told my mom about my monetary loss, and then all the sudden she got this weird look on her face. She stood up, walked over to her purse, and counted out her money. I wondered what the heck she was doing, until she looks at me and tells me that she too was shorted $10 by the cashier at Wendy's. She said she didn't think to count her change, but later thought something was odd when she went for money for something else and only had 7 bucks.

Finding this a bit odd, I asked her when she was at Wendy's, and she told me about 4:45. Which is really eerie since my shortchanging occurred at 4:30. Coincidence?

The sucky part is that I'm not back at school till Wed, so when I go to tell them that I was ripped off, they're going to look at me like I'm crazy. Though if they keep their drawer right they should find that they were $10 over at the end of Mon. night. Regardless, I'm getting my $10 back whether they hand it over to me, or I extract it in plasticwear and napkins (which they charge us 10 cents a piece for if no purchase) over the next year. I'll leave it up to them which way they think is easiest.

Easy Decisions

The press has given a lot of ink to the question of what the Colts will do next season with the imposed salary cap. With Peyton signing the deal he did, many people believe that Indy won't be able to keep both Marvin and Edgerrin next year when their contracts expire. So they discuss who they think the Colts will keep if they have to choose.

If Bill Pollian hadn't figured it out before last night's game, the Edge needs to go. 2 fumbles inside the 20. And sadly, with him that's usually the rule and not the exception. I don't care how many rushing yards he can get, if you don't get the points at the end of the drive, it doesn't matter. The Colts would be wise to sign Marvin, keep Rhodes, and tell Edge not to let the door hit him in the ass on the way out.

Bourne Again

After priding myself on seeing both the Bourne Identity and the Bourne Supremacy, I'm shocked that I missed this gem; The Bourne Identity Crisis. With a plot synopsis that states: 'An amnesiac forgets that he's gay and convinces himself that he's an assassin", I think it just made my must see list.

Tidbits

Question at OCI interview I was not prepared for:

So tell me what high school was like.

In other suit-wearing news. If you ever want to feel completely out of place, wear a suit to the Jesus Town Walmart and checkout behind a man in overalls who is buying a year's worth of manure before it goes out of season.

In blogging news, I've been having problems with Blogger the last few days and have lost at least 2, maybe 3 posts and haven't gotten myself around to re-typing them. But they're forthcoming.

Part of the reason I'm not re-typing them now is because I'm watching U.S. Open tennis and playing with my new Sony Vaio computer. I love new toys.

What I want to be when I grow up.

As a preface to this post, I need to explain the structure of our law school for those who don't attend law school or understand the separation. I attend Indiana University School of Law on the IUPUI campus. The law school is independent from the undergrad university (which is in fact a branch of both IU and Purdue) and you'd be hard pressed to find a student at our law school who would tell people that they attend IUPUI. We simply share the campus and are forced to abide by the beauracracy associated with financial aid, parking, etc.

That being said, I somehow got added or classified as an IUPUI undergrad on some list. This has resulted in a swarm of junk mail and emails inviting me to various IUPUI functions. I keep getting invitations to freshman orientation meetings, "Explore IUPUI", and volunteer opportunities. One even tells me that I'm invited to a banquet to honor the receipients of a certain undergrad scholarship, which my financial aid account can attest that I never got, [though I'd not be ashamed of spending it if it were granted me in error]. My favorite came yesterday from the undergrads "pre-law" office. The email started out with some version of the line; "interested in attending law school after you graduate?" and then went on to detail an internship opportunity for "valued pre-law majors." Apparently I'm so valued that they want me back, even though I'm already in my last year of law school.

I emailed the head of the listserv yesterday and explained that I was not an undergrad and wished to be removed from the list. Her response was that even though I wasn't an undergrad, I was still invited to attend the functions. Apparently she missed the flashing red light telling her I wanted them to stop filling my inbox and mailbox with worthless mailings.

A family affair.

I got to spend another lovely holiday with my entire family this past weekend. It's a good thing Labor Day falls where it does since we had been approaching a world record lapse in family bonding time. Our last family function was on the 4th of July, and any time we deprive ourselves of being confined to a room with all our cousins and aunts and uncles is too long indeed.

The one potential benefit of seeing my family so frequently should be that I have to answer the dreaded "how's law school?" question less often. Only my family didn't get the memo. Instead, I have to answer that question, paired with the ever present "how many years do you have left?" on a regular basis.

Usually these conversations are followed by one or two family members telling me that I need to hurry up and graduate because they need my help in a legal matter now. My family members all have lawyers who they apparently plan on dropping the day I pass the bar. After years of hearing this, I finally laid down the law and quite abruptly informed them that I refuse to handle any legal matters involving family members. This may seem a bit rude, but it's something I will be firm on. When you have 60+ relatives that you see on a semi-regular basis, there is so much potential for conflict if something goes wrong.

My aunt, who is the most frequent offender in the "you're going to be my lawyer" category took a little offense to my declaration. However, she got over it quickly, and in what she thought was a great explanation told me that she didn't mean she wanted to hire me, she just needed me to advise her on something. Apparently I should be relieved that she doesn't intend to employ me as her lawyer, but was simply asking that I give her free legal advise in my spare time. Glad we cleared that up.

Rain on My Parade

We just received an email from one of our Deans notifying us that graduation had to be moved because of unforeseen circumstances. Instead of graduating on May 15th as planned, we get to graduate on May 8th. The kicker: They can't change the spring schedule so it's quite possible we will still be taking finals after the graduation ceremony has taken place.

"Sorry mom and dad, I can't go out for a celebratory dinner or drinks (with friends of course) tonight because I have a tax final tomorrow morning. Have fun without me."

5 Day Weekend

The labor day holiday brings me an unusually long weekend. What for most people is a long 3 day weekend is actually a 5 day weekend for me. 1 day longer than my average 4 day weekend. With creative planning this semester, I only have classes on Monday and Wednesday, and then I work pro bono on Tuesdays. And since I don't seem to have a paying job of any nature, my weekend starts on Thursday. It's sad really. This is why I really, really need to get a job.

What sucks is that even though I only have class two days, on those days I leave the house pre 8 a.m. and don't get home until after 9. [And I know I'm not the only one commuting, so I'm not really griping about that.] I just wish there were some job around here that I could work those other 2 days a week without having to drive 3 hours a day to work too. That gets a little tiring. But it's only week 2 and I'm bored out of my mind. Don't get me wrong, I have accomplished some cleaning and shopping, but nothing that's furthering my legal objectives. Why oh why does the Jesus Town have to be in the middle of nowhere.

Validation

I finally was granted an OCI interview today. I use the term "finally" quite loosely since this is the first year I've signed up for OCI. But with as many OPD emails that went out saying that such and such a law firm had completed their schedule, I was beginning to question whether the firms I'd bid were even still interviewing. Alas, at least I have 1. Still holding my breath to see if it will be the only one.

Weird Science

Science geeks... I mean, "astronomers" have recently received a signal they think could be coming from outside our universe. Some suggest this may be the strongest evidence that there is life outside our planet. My favorite part of this article is the following:

Named SHGb02+14a, the possible alien communication has a frequency of about 1420 megahertz - one of the main frequencies at which hydrogen, the most common element in the universe, readily absorbs and emits energy. Some astronomers have suggested that aliens trying to announce their presence would be likely to transmit at this frequency, and SETI researchers regularly scan this part of the radio spectrum.

How exactly do these astronomers know which method the aliens prefer for to use for contact? Logical deduction based on other known aspects of alien behavior?

In the cards.

It always creeps me out a bit when my horoscope hits a little too close to home. After posting the previous post I went to check my horoscope, something I rarely ever do, and it had this to say:

Life would be a whole lot easier if you just let go and said what was on your mind, wouldn't it?

Multiple Personalities

When I was growing up, I often heard adults throw out the old adage that "people change." I never quite understood what they meant, nor did I ever fathom that I would ever be one of those people. Yet I am.

I am not the same person I was a year ago or the person I was 2 years ago when I entered law school. And I'm not even close to the person I was when I was 18. It took me about 25 years to finally be able to say "this is me" and accept that for myself.

My whole life I've typically been a quiet, blend into a crowd, only speaks when spoken to type of girl. I think a lot of this stems in part from shyness, but also from my fear of saying something stupid. If you haven't noticed by now, I tend to be a bit sarcastic, and sometimes my sarcasm is interpreted the wrong way. I'm one of those people that after something has left my mouth I can obsess about it for months or years. What could be a passing comment to someone else may stick in the back of my mind and come to the forefront any time I start thinking about the dumb and stupid things I've done in life. So to pre-empt this worry, I simply don't speak at all. Cause if I don't say anything at all, I'm less likely to say something stupid. Which sounds moronic to say out loud, but makes perfect, rational sense when in the situation.

But I'm getting better at it and better at speaking my mind. My friends have called it "coming out of my shell" though I think of it more like "coming into myself." And I have my friends to thank for that. Because I honestly believe that portions of my personality directly reflect the influence of certain people. They are all too many to name but they know who they are anyway.

I think Kelly P and Amanda would prefer that I always just say what I'm thinking, though if I did that I'd never sleep because I'd be up cataloguing all the ways I probably offended someone or embarrassed myself. Instead I blog. Because the blog has a backspace button and an edit/delete function that real life is lacking.

[The quietness is actually only a part of my overall tranformation, but for the sake of space and sanity, I won't get into how I've also changed spiritually, theologically, philosophically, and attitudinally. You'll just have to trust me on that.]

This blog is actually a better reflection of the true me than most things in my life. Although I'm not the same person I was in high school, I revert back to that person when I'm around high school friends. Because my subconscious thinks that's what they expect of me. And the same with my family and church folk. I've become an expert at being the person they expect/want me to be. It's odd to me to think that all these people don't really know me, they just think they do.

For anyone who was wondering "Are you as ____ in person as you are on the blog?" Chances are, no. But I'm getting closer.

A girl's best friend.

Forget the excitement of the availability of coffins at Costco, my family isn't going to need them after I read this exciting tidbit. A Minnesota woman had her husband's remains made into a diamond so that she can always take him with her. Her husband now exists in the 1/2 carat yellow diamond she wears around her neck.

Hmm. # of relatives in the Jesus Town - the life expectancy of each family member = a tennis bracelet in no time.