Tuesday And I Need A Drink

Warning: incessant rambling follows:

I love and hate three day weekends. For some reason, time seems to slip away faster during a three day weekend than a normal weekend. How can this be when there is an entire extra day in there?! I hate that I can't slow down enough to enjoy life even during a holiday or a three day weekend. I feel like there is always a back log of chores, work and other "stuff" that I can't even begin to categorize on my "to-do" list. But I always seem to ignore it all or push it off for "next weekend" in the name of my quickly-escaping sanity.

Thank goodness for photos- without them I would never remember what happened in my fast-as-lightning life. (BTW- Jacob LOVES sparklers, pop-its and all other "f-eye-woks."

I'm the kind of person who requires a lot of down time. I have the physical "need" to veg out in front of a TV, computer screen or cooking magazine. I can't tackle anything on the weekend until I've fulfilled my quota of veg time. Good thing for me that shopping is also an acceptable method for fulilling my weekly veg time. I know many people HATE grocery shopping. But I absolutely love it. I love to take my list to the store, peruse the aisles to find just the right ingredients for my weekly menus and revel in all the consumer choices before me. I love buying snacks and treats and yummy things to eat. I should be a professional grocery shopper for Hell's Kitchen or Rackel Ray or [insert favorite cooking show}.

And the rambling takes a new direction..., The worst part about a three day weekend (besides the fact that it goes by too quickly) is that you have to return to work. Today, when I got to work every single one of my cases decided to explode on me! By the time noon rolled around (seemingly in the blink of an eye), I had made a call to an expert, called opposing counsel to have a nice argument about service of process, took a call from a client, made a call to another client, called an insurance company, scheduled a site visit for my expert, finished a status report, signed a notice of appearance and reported to two different partners on two of my cases. I was dead tired by noon but I felt like I got nothing done! As the day progressed, other demands seemed to pile up on me until I thought my body would sink into the floor.

And then I desperately needed one of these:


Or these:

The funny thing about my job is that it is so unpredictable from day to day. As I lay in bed the night before work, I plan out all the tasks I will accomplish the next day in priority order. But by the time I get to my desk the next morning, listen to my voice mails and read my emails, my task list is overcome with a slew of new "highly important" tasks and assignments. My task list dies until the next day where it just gets pushed aside by other new tasks. I've had one assignment on my personal mental to do list for an entire month!

I guess this is how things go in the litigation world. It's crazy and insane and draining, but I feel like I'm doing something important and valuable for my client each day. Each day I navigate local rules, use case law to support my position, confer with clients, strategize with experts and generally push my cases that much closer to resolution. All of that is precisely why I love every second of this crazy little thing called litigation.

Quotables.

Things I've been telling myself all day:

"Everything I know about the law, I actually learned from Barbri." Because the first time I learned this stuff (i.e. Con Law, Corporations, Prof Responsibilities) it all seemed like hazy mush in my brain. Relearning it all again within a three hour time frame and from a bird eye's perspective, it actually is starting to make sense! Take that Business Judgment Rule!

"Minimum compentency." This is my hourly mantra. I only have to be minimally competent. I've been mediocre my whole life, how hard can this be?

And my FAVORITE quote of the year, from my all time favorite show: "I'm like the dollar store, because you know, at the dollar store you can have everything you ever really wanted in one package, for a dollar!"

I seriously forgot how much I LOVE American Idol. I forgot how addicting it is. I had to force myself to turn it off halfway through so I could finish my corporations practice problems. I hate you Bar Exam! American Idol might just be the cause of my career downfall.

You Will NOT Find Me At The Mall Today

Maybe I'm just disgusted by my law school debt but this year I am SO anti-commercial. Black friday totally disgusts me. Just thinking of the selfish shoppers, the long-ass lines, and the rush to "buy, buy buy." Yuk. Really? This is what our society looks forward to and celebrates on the holdiays? GROSS!

Is there really anything I need so much that I am going to get up at 3am and wait in lines outside the shopping centers? Seriously, what can you want THAT badly. I'll admit. I like getting new things. Wearing new clothes for the first time, opening a package of something I ordered in the mail- no bigger thrill. But I guess I've just been spending too much on me this year and I'm now experiencing an internal backlash from all the boots I bought (yes, I DID need three pairs, thankyouverymuch!).

I'm not against the concept of shopping. Actually, I used to have a lot of fun shopping with my family in preparation for Christmas. But it's the fact that shopping has become the FOCUS of our holidays, that disgusts me. Sure, there's the turkey, but oh THE SHOPPING! THE DEALS! Really, why do we even do gifts? YOu don't have to give gifts to be generous or to show someone how you feel about them. Nowadays, it seems like time is a more valuable commodity than money. We never have enough time. Wouldn't it be better to spend TIME with the people we care about rather than MONEY? To actually go visit and have a chat with Aunt Marmalade rather than send her some dish towels in the mail?

I'm not against spending money, or shopping or presents-I actually love all three. I like capitalism. But I just feel so disgusted by the excess. The commercialism. The general focus on shopping. The need to buy another, better bigger screen TV because, for heaven's sake, living with JUST a 36 incher is akin to living in poverty! I don't mean to be a bah-humbug. It's just lately I've been wanting to get back to the basics of enjoying the holidays. Wanting more than what I can just buy at the mall. Looking for a little something more.

Cooking Up A Storm

Literally.

I went on a cooking binge this week. I'm pretty much exhausted from measuring, kneading, checking the doneness of meats and WASHING dishes! I swear I used every single one of our dishes at least three times. The best part is that the refrigerator is overflowing with leftovers.

At times, it really did seem like a storm in our kitchen. I think the smoke alarm went of six times this week. But to my credit, the oven is really dirty and smokes easily. Wait- how is that to my credit?

I love to cook. There is just something about having a finished product at the end of all your work. Very unlike reading casebooks, studying or attending class. And the results taste much better too. I got really tired of thumbing through my million cookbooks and trying to remember old recipe websites to find my favorite recipes. So I bought a really nice journal at the local bookstore and I have been transcribing all my favorite, no-fail recipes into ONE BOOK. It's totally awesome. I LOVE my recipe book. I even have false hopes that my kids will pick it up after I'm long gone, make my old recipes and fondly rememberme...ha ha ha- ok, back to reality.

This week I made the following:

Potato Pierogies
Spatzle- German dumplings with ham and Sauerkraut (my great grandma's recipe!)
Homemade pizza bagels- from scratch!
Country fried steak with biscuits and sausage gravy (all from scratch)
Tandoori chicken (a recipe from my Indian friend- but still not as good as hers)
Pecan Pie (times two!)
Teriyaki chicken with homemade sauce
Chicken Sio Pao (phillipino dumplings - like the round chinese dumplings)

Wow, I'm exhausted just thinking about it all. This is going to be one yummy week of leftovers. If I would have just spent a fraction of the time that I spent cooking on doing my law school homework, I could have been ready for tomorrow's 8am class. Sigh.

**Updated to include recipe links!

Re-Convert

You know how when you ask people what kind of music they listen to many will say, "Anything but country....oh and rap."

As a die hard country music fan, this totally pisses me off. Ok, so country is just not your thAng, I get it- that's fine. But REALLY? You like every other category in the repertoire of worldly music EXCEPT country? How much more of an insult can you give to a down-hown, line-dancing, wanna-be country gal? It's borderline ridiculous!

I mean seriously? You'd prefer to listen to hours of ear splitting mountain yodeling than country music? You would choose whinny teenage emo music over a couple bars of an acoustic accompanied by a fiddle and some lyrics about pick-ups and bud light? How about hokey polky acccordian music in another language? You'd rather listen to THAT too? Well, at least you disclaimed a distate for rap as well, but notice how it is almost an afterthought as if country music where the ultimate in horribleness.

Am I missing somethere here? Is country music THAT horrible? I mean it's a brother to Rock and Blues. And excuse me, but ELVIS PRESLEY was consideres a country music artist as well. I admit a lot of country is "redneck," but that's because country singers know how to HAVE fun and MAKE fun of themselves. Example lyrics:

"She thinks my tractor's sexy."
"I can hotwire your tractor and plow up your land."
"I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor."
"If you gonna learn to farm you gotta learn to drive a truck"
"We all gotta hillbilly bone deep inside."
"I was sittin' there sellin' turnips on a flatbed truck."

Maybe it's genetic. You are born to like country or not. Maybe I just like it because it brings back memories of riding my bike in my garage as my dad worked on his boat and blasted the local country station. Maybe it just speaks to where I am in life right now. Or maybe I'm just a country girl trapped in the city. Oh, and there IS something beautiful about an accoustic or steel guitar that can't be replicated by a synthesizer.

In highschool I claimed that I hated country along with all of my friends. I think I even believed that myself for a while. From highschool to the age of 25, I refused to listen to it because of it's reputation as being "uncool" and "hick." But then, one day, my mom drove my car and left the radio station blaring. I decided to leave it on that channel for my entire 45 minutes drive home. By the time I got home I was singing along to my old favorites and loving some of the new stuff. I could hide no longer- country found me again and it stuck.

If you just don't like country, I respect that. I'm not trying to convert you. I just want people to respect country as a legitimate expression of the values and experiences of people from all across the country. And not just unsophisticated, toothless people, either. Sure it can be as loud an obnoxious as a dirty pickup with monster wheels. It can be as sexy as a shirtless rodeo bronc in boots and a dirty cowbow hat. But it can also be as sweet, romantic and breathtaking as an endless field of wheat and rolling hills.

And if you STILL refuse to respect country, you can take my shit kickers (aka:boots) up your @$$, you dimwitted gooseberry.

Famous Last Words

"Just one more cookie..." (there goes the whole box).

"I think I can make it one more hour without changing Jacob's diaper." (major wipeout ensues).

"I'm not going to brief for this class, the Prof never calls on us anyway" (you can guess this one).

"The recipe says this dish only takes 30 minutes to make." (dinner is 1.5 hours later).

"Oops, forgot deoderant. It will be ok, I'll just try not to sweat." (P.U.)

"This stairmaster is so easy! I'll increase intensity" (Why don't they make underwear with ice pack pockets?)

****
Oh and tonight my husband turned down a session of lovemaking. Yes, that's right, he turned down my seductive advances (i.e. "wanna do me?!") so that he could do something else. But I think we will take a poll and I'll let YOU guess what that something else might be.

My husband turned out an evening of awesome love making with me to:
(a) finish a manly action film co-starring a half naked chick
(b) take a dump (when you gotta go, you gotta go!)
(c) eat a box of pepperoni pizza and guzzle a keg of beer with his guy friends
(d) iron clothes.

If you guess a, b, or c, you assumed my husband was a normal human male. If you guessed d, then you know that is just simply NOT the case.

It went a little like this:
My husband walks into our bedroom where I am reading in bed. I look at him seductively and ask, "Want to join me in bed? Wink, wink."My husband rolls his eyes, gives an exasperated sigh and stated, "I JUST turned on the iron!" He then grabs a stack of clothes and marches out of the room. Like seriously, WHAT WAS I THINKING? He needs a freshly pressed wardrobe for the week and I'm over here being a sabateur by trying to force bodily pleasure onto him! Come ON!

Please tell me, the romance gets hotter with each year of marriage, right?

Piss(y) & Vinegar

Ok, this post is more pissy than vinegar.

Multiple run ins with school bookstore employees today have led me to this conclusion: You know you've been in lawschool too long when people frequently ask you if you are "staff." I should just say yes so I can get my bookstore discount, but then they probably will want proof or something- lame!

In an unrelated note: on the way to school today I got pulled over and had my @$$ delivered to me by a cop. Not just ANY cop- but the fake motorcycle cops. It's like they aren't trusted enough with a real vehicle so they have to ride these dinky motorcycles and "wave" down traffic violators with their bare hands instead of fancy flashing lights- how unauthoritative can you be waving frantically at speeding vehicles that pass you by? And what is with those ridiculous boots they wear? They remind me of a cross between women knee-high boots and children's plastic rain boots.

So this cop gives me a freaking speeding ticket (my first one ever- I ALWAYS get a warning- where is my fifth warning not to speed on a public highway, so not fair! My due process rights have totally been violated!) but first he looks all solemn and says "You were going 15 mph over the limit but I only wrote you up for 5mph over the limit- I gave you the lowest possible fine." Then he hands me this naseatingly green paper all gracious-like, as if he is returning my lost puppy or something and leans into my car, just waiting... waiting for what? Does this dude want me to THANK HIM? I dodge eye contact and take the paper carefully as if I just watched the cop drop his pants and wipe his ass on it. WHAT? The fine is $115!! That's the LOWEST possible? I never want to see another cop as long as I live! Even if I was the bound and gagged and nominated pinata at a gang party. You can bet I'm going to contest the heck out of this thing- even if I AM guilty! Take that!

[Insert witty segue here]


Oops, not THAT kind of segue... anyway...

It is a TOTAL power trip to reject friend requests on Facebook! I rarely do this. In fact, I only reject people who I obviously don't know or who are scamming something. But, nonetheless, clicking that dainty little "ignore" button totally makes me want to clench my fists in ruthless power and raise them into the air while lightning strikes in the background. It totally does something to my ego and makes me feel like the coolest kid in school. I wish I had the guts to suddenly pretend to click an imaginary "ignore" button in real life when someone I can't stand starts talking to me... maybe someday that will be an option?

Oh WebMD- Could It Be Chocolate Deficiency Syndrome?

As a (or at least 2/3 of a) lawyer, I have dealt with many cases involving medical issues from an injury standpoint to a damages standpoint. When trying to fit medical issues into the legal framework that is ideal for your client, I highly suggest you consult some bona-fide professional, such as my bestest friend, WebMD. WebMD kicks major butt (ok, ok, I guess it's not AS persuasive as some IME report from a real doctor- but sometimes it just might be more objective).

But WedMD was no help to me this week. Since last Saturday I have suffered from a list of random ailments that are unlike any virus I have ever had before. I'm starting to worry.

On Saturday I had major chills. I swore I had a fever. I was hot and cold at the same time and sweating more than a lawstudent victim of the Socratic Method. But no fever ever registered. All Sunday I had the same symptom and stilll no fever. Monday I woke up THE SAME. I even went to the school nurse who checked my vital stats and told me it was nothing and that I should just focus on school instead of trying to fake the swine flue (THE NERVE! If I had wanted to fake it, I would have been so good, she wouldn't KNOW- duh). On my way out she handed me an informational ipod download on STDs. THANKS. I hope it falls out of my backpack in class and all my classmates see it! NOT!

Monday night I finally had a fever- and it was a fever of 102. In addition, the tops of my eyeballs started to ache constantly and it kinda hurt to turn my head to the side (you can guess how many times I checked my blind spot while I was puttering around town). The fever continued through Tuesday. By Wednesday, the fever was gone but not the achey eyeballs and, on top of all that, I had a mother of a sore throat. Seriously, who excavated my throat with a fire poker when I wasn't looking?

Today, the sore throat is gone but I still have achey eyeballs (What the heck? Who gets achey eyeballs- it's like my eyes got drunk and now have a major hangover). What is really causing me concern, however, is this dibilitating headache that I have had constantly for 15 hours- despite ingesting doses of Tylenol and Aleve that would probably overdose an elephant. No, I take it back. Not headache. MIGRANE. It hurts when my feet touch the ground as I walk. It hurts when I move my head. It pounds when I stand up. Heck, it aches when the wind blows on it.

What is going on? This is not a normal flu! This is some psychotic, schizophrenic flu that can't stay with any one symptom for too long. And throughout this ordeal, WedMD has been completely unhelpful. The web doctor seems at a loss for diagnosis- hwever, my symptoms are teetering a little too close to such things as swine flu, brain tumor, respiratory infection, and, my favorite, chemical poisoning.

Of those, I think I can guess what I most likely have. Take a look at this picture of me taken last Saturday and then make your own guess:


Man, I KNEW that was a bad idea.

Hey Cowgirl, Can I Borrow A Chair?

I grabbed a table at our law student common area and started tackling the reading for my next class. When I got here I was at a table alone with six chairs. Now I am at a table alone with one chair.

This just reinforces how lonely I feel. Not even the chairs LOVE ME! People keep politely approaching:

"Can I borrow this chair?"
"Are you using this chair?"
"Mind if I take this?"

They might as well call it as it is- "Since you have no friends can I take your chair so I can join my hundreds of best buddies?" I give them a friendly smile. "Of course." The chair borrower will grab the chair and drag it over to his or her table of loudly conversing chums. Leaving me and my big empty table to pour over some exciting intestate statutes.

It's alright. I can handle riding solo. I'll be the lone cowgirl just passing through on my trusty steed, this cold metal chair. Yup, I keep to myself because I know what they don't- you fair better when you're on your own. Friends just get you shot square between the shoulder blades. I'll garner curious looks from the townfolk, stride on over to the saloon for some drip coffee, make some trouble for the lawman and end up having to defend my honor in a noontime showdown.

Or I'll just sit here and finish my reading until I get a chance to make small talk with the girl next to me in Trust & Estates.

My Guilty Summer Pleasures

When it comes to my summer reading list. I'm a bit pretentious. How pretentious? I started out this summer reading Huckleberry Finn (again) and Wuthering Heights. Yeah. No kidding. I don't often hit up the New York Times Bestseller's List (on purpose anyway)- even though some great books end up there. I just don't want people to think I'm reading a book because it's mainstream or popular. I don't want to fill my thoughts with the same stuff everyone else in the world is reading.

Usually, I prefer historical fiction or fiction that is oozing in foreign culture. But between law school and my job in the legal field, my brain has turned to mush outside the hours of 9am to 5pm. And, I feel like reading accordingly- mush. All mush.

It started when I began to dabble in the overly cheesy, pioneer woman fiction novel. You know the ones with the religious undertones? I'm talking all out Janette Oke, people. The stuff my conservative grandma would read. But... it's....Feel Good! And oh geez. The men in those books are such a turn on. How can you NOT fall in love with a devout, strong and gentlemanly Canadian Mounty straight out of the 1910s? Seriously? How! He goes to church- your mom would approve!

But from there, I fell down the slippery slope. I picked up some Debbie Macomber novels. I can try to justify this guilty pleasure by saying that I'm just supporting the local artists- she lives ten minutes from me, or that I read it for the geography- she writes about Seattle and my own city. But really, I read her books for the cheesy romance and the sexy men (and the borderline-harlequine novel quality doesn't hurt). After starting my fifth book of hers in the past month, I can almost predict what the characters will do next and the words she will choose to describe it. She's even reusing some character names. Definately not high quality literature.

But OH! When the stubborn man finally pulls the leading lady into his arms after chapters of tension and bickering and trying to convince the world he doesn't love her- it's just unbearable! That's how good it makes you feel. And seriously, some of her men characters are enough to drive you wild- rough and tumble ranchers, fearless and mean mercenaries with an unexpected tender side, duty-filled and honorable navy men risking their lives for their country. I fall in love with each one and then I kick myself for reading the book too fast. There is one male character in particular that I can't get over, he is seriousy the Perfect Man. Figures he would only exist in fiction.

While the men are pretty dreamy. The female characters drive me mad. The writer is a bit on the conservative side and each female character is about the same- inexperienced sexually, emotionally weak, petite, good cook and seamstress, with a classic female job (waitress, librarian!, teacher)- and wants the same thing: to be romanced off her feet and have all the guy's babies so she can be a stay at home mom. Nothing's wrong with that of course, but if I were writing a romance, my female heroine would be tough as doornails, confident as hell and thriving in a "man's" world.

The best/worst part of these Debbie Macomber novels are the blatant sexuality in the characters. Man, I never read a sex scene before- and when I'm reading in public, I have to put the book down lest I get all hot and bothered on the spot.

Yup, Guilty Pleasure.

Who knew it could be so much fun down here at the bottom?

Just A Dreamer.

Last year I LOVED my job and I was excited about the prospects of becoming an associate at this firm. I loved the crazy complication of litigating construction defect claims. I enjoyed handling personal injury cases and I also thought it was awesome that I got to dabble in many other areas of law. While I still enjoy the people I work with and I feel pretty dang competant at what I am doing now, I just don't feel quite as excited about my cases this year. I'm looking at the cases I'm handling and thinking- so what? If we win, another construction company that engages in poor practices gets off the hook. Because althought what they do may seem wrong to me, it is still legal afterall.

I've seen too many less than deserving plaintiffs win more than they should. I've seen too many greedy clients suck the other party's insurance policy dry. While I often feel proud to be part of a successful (yet smalll) law firm, I feel like I should be doing more with my legal education. This has only been a problem for me recently. While I'm not ashamed at all of the legal work I do, I just feel like I owe society more. At the end of the day, I'm still yearning to make a difference. Before I jumped on the LSAT bandwagon, and before I even thought about going to law school, I had no idea what I wanted to do. But I knew I wanted to help people. I had this quixotic yet burning passion to be a servant of human kind. To recognize a void in the lives of others and fill it up.

I think I could spend the rest of my life in my own office, talking to mediocre clients on the other end of a phone line. I think I could do that and be content. But I don't want to be content. I want to live my life with passion. I want to get out of bed each morning excited to go to the office because I am truly helping a client who could not otherwise access legal representation.

So, here is my blue sky, reach for the heavens idea: to start a pro bono legal clinic for low income families in my community. While there are a couple in the big city, there aren't any in my own community. I know this is crazy and probably naive. I don't have money. I don't have a whole lot of experience in areas such as family law and real estate (which are usually the two biggest areas that legal clinics deal with). I know I need a lot more resources and help. I'm not even a JD yet officially. So I'm willing to keep churning this idea around and waiting on it as long as I have to.

Ideally, I'd like to be involved in a clinic like this part time and still have a part time job to fall back on. So I need to do a lot more research. And I think I need some kind of business plan. I'm not really a detail person. I'd rather just do the dreaming.

Mini Post

Everyday seems to be shorter than the last or is it that I just have more things to try to cram into each day? And the impending doom of yet another set of finals is finally creeping over me.

Jacob is growing so much each day! It is incredible to actually watch him do new things for the first time. I think he is developing at an exponentially faster rate than before. Last month he started to slowly pick things up and feed himself. But now, I put a handful of cheerios on his plate and he scarfs them down in a minute! Today he used his baby walker for WALKING for the first time. He usually just pushes off the floor and travels backwards unintentionally. Today he was scooting all over the house, oh no! He's getting mobile! And I swear he grew three inches the night we left him at my in-laws for law prom (a post about that to come soon).

Today I had my first taste of summer as I sat in a park and did my secured transactions readings. It was in the mid seventies today! That is ridiculos considering the highs have been in the forties lately and was it just two weeks ago that we got snow? What is going on with Seattle weather?!

I wasted four hours studying secured transactions and I still don't understand priority between all the different types of creditors. It seems like the UCC just randomly piles rule on top of rule with crazy exeptions going off in all direction without reason. Every rule seems to have five exceptions. Then each exception has it's own exception. AGH! This class is going to kill me, I just know it.

Oh and last night I had a dream that some girl was forcing me to pretend to be her fiance. I had to meet her parents, trick them and win their hearts. It seemed unusually cruel. Her mom even made a cake for me that said "congrats bride-to-be." When the truth came out, and her mom was angry and heartbroken, the girl got all pissed that I hurt her mom's feelings. But Dude! You MADE me lie to her! I woke up so angry at her. If I see her in my dreams tonight, she is in for a beat-down.

Typical.

That is how I would describe my spring break in one word.

Spring break pretty much goes the same each year. At the beginning I take a vow to get a head start on exams, outlinings, and papers (or maybe just catch up in the classes in which I am behind- which conveniently is all of them). Somehow that vow bacomes a distant memory once break is fully underway. The rest of the week goes like this: busy, fast, shopping, movies, laundry, over. Woah! Where did it go? I didn't even get my much needed rest!

Probably the best part of break, aside from hanging out with Jacob (who woke me up at 6 every morning), was discovering a dollar store just miles from my home. I love crappy cheap stores! I bought a huge package of Thin Mints (just a dollar!) that are labeled "Real Chocolate Covered Thin Mints"!! You know, to distinguish them from the Fake ones. I also bought two large packages of marshmallows for 50 cents each, but they are called "Marshmallow Fluffy Puffs." And I decided I had to buy a box of "Puffed Crispy Ricies" (you guessed it- just a dollar!) to go with the marshmallows so that I could make rice krispy treats. Pretty much awesome.

Among some of the marvelous things I discovered at the store that didn't make it into my cart:

Miss Trixie (Barbie's knock-off slutty cousin)
generic landscape calendars from 2008
$2.00 adult bikini swimsuits
brownish lemons, 3 for a dollar
hair extensions in every color (blonde, brunette, electric blue?)
mugs with creepy animals on them
3 pair pack of granny panties (with a two inch elastic waist)
ceramic easter rabbits
39 cent can of mystery "Beans"- that's all the label said

But I did make enough rice krispy treats to feed a small army- or, at least, one small female guest from Japan. My visiting guest also packed three batches worth to take home with her. I guess there is a shortage over there.

YAY For The Flu!

Thanks to two days of eating nothing and three more days of having no appetite, I finally lost those five extra baby pounds! Woo hoo!

This wasn't exactly the way I planned on losing the weight. But hey, I deserve something positive to come out of this Extreme Flu Bug of Death.

Someone at school today commented on how I looked more slender. I told her it was because I had been crippling ill. And she was all like, "Awww, I want the flu. Can you give it to me?"

Gross. Seriously I have done some desperate stuff to lose weight- like the time I didn't drink water for a whole day and then ran 3 miles in order to squeeze into a dress the next day- but I doubt I would ever VOLUNTEER to dry heeve for 24 hours and fry my brains out with a fever just to lose 5 pounds. But then again, under the right circumstances, just maybe, I would?

Productively Pursuing A New Career Path

I dominated a table at Starbucks for five whole hours today while I finished up my Sales, Payment and Corporate Governance reading for tomorrow. I crammed to get as much done as possible during the window of time that Jacob played with Grandma Lumpia (husband's mom-she is Fillipina).

The problems are
1) Starbucks Lady keeps giving me dirty looks because it's been three hours since I have actually ordered something. Placing my old latte cup strategically in front of my table is not fooling her.
2) I can only study for 15 minutes before I need to get up and do something but I look rather silly walking in circles.
3) Five hours is not nearly enough time to finish all the homework for my five classes- I need TEN HOURS!

So I did what I could before rejoining the living and picking up my happy big-headed baby* from Grandma Lumpia's house. I got home at around 5:30pm and that's when my day actually started.

I got home and fed Jacob.
Then I made dinner,
gave Jacob a bath,
put him is his jammies,
started a load of laundry,
fed Jacob one last time,
put him to bed,
put the wet clothes in the dryer
cleaned the dishes,
made my lunch,
packed Jacob's diaper bag for tomorrow
AND
cleaned the breast pump!

I may have accomplished enough in four hours to suggest that I am on some kind of performance-enhancing drugs or perhaps a tiny bit of speed. BUT. There is still a stack of assigned reading sitting on my table haunting me. I swear it has grown a pair of big googly eyes like the "money you will save by switching to Geico" in those crazy Geico ads. I still won't get to it tonight.

So what is the point of doing all those chores if by neglecting my IMPORTANT work, my life is sent spiraling down the path of Flunking out of Law School. Causing me to never find a Job. Resulting in the Foreclosure of My Home. And reducing my family to scrounging food off the streets like rats? I could have saved myself the agony of law school and could already be enjoiying a career in street scrounging.

It's not me. It's the Crazy talking.


*We have started calling him Charlie Brown because of his big and hair-challenged head.
P.S. I'm so tired I had to edit this post six times for errors and grammar mistakes.

Brimming With Joy (& Christmas Music)

Ever since I heard about pandora.com, I've been obsessed with playing Christmas music all day long!

This evening after Jacob was put to bed, I was doing my daily blog reading and listening to a string of holiday melodies. Out of nowhere my husband laughs and says, "You're cute Cee." His statement was dripping with endearing love and light hearted ridicule.

"What? Because I'm listening to Christmas music?" I asked indignantly?

"No because you are singing along to it. By yourself. And it's ridiculous."

I guess I had been singing along to "holly jolly christmas" without even realizing it. But seriously, my singing isn't THAT bad. And I love christmas music. There is just something about knowing all the words to feel-good tunes that elicit childhood memories of Christmases past. Who can listen to it WITHOUT singing along? Only a cold hearted Grinch!

But if my husband thinks THAT is ridiculous, I'm gad he's not home all day to witness me singing boisterously to Jacob (complete with AMAZING dance steps, facial expressions and hand gestures). Jacob LOVES christmas music too. Especially when I sing it!

Dear New Roof,

Because of you there are about 7 burly, bearded, carhart-wearing men outside right now circling my house. Although they are making more noise than a traveling circus, their presence still catches me off guard. Like when I'm feeding my baby and one of their heads suddenly appears in the window (showing some boob can only help at this point right? Discount anyone?). Or when I'm folding my underwear and I look out the window to find three men on a dump truck staring shamelessly through the blinds.

I would also like to blame you for the crankiness of my baby. My baby snaps out of his slumber if you whisper in another room, so the incessant pounding and swearing coming from outside really doesn't help much. Sometimes I wonder if the roofers really ARE installing you or if they are just ripping apart our house. Each time I look out the window, huge chunks of wood fall from the sky. It gives me splinters just thinking about it.

At least I'm having a splendid time getting to know those roofers. What better way to get to know someone by swapping some hind-skin on a porcelain toilet. Is it common practice for roofers to use your bathroom? I'm a generous person and I don't mind sharing. But I'd prefer if they would not share the contents of their bowels with me by flushing the dang toilet next time. And I had a nice chat with one of them in my drive way as he was pulling our white picket fence out of the ground. And by nice chat, I mean he asked if I ever lived in Eagle's Nest Apartments because he once hooked up with a girl that looked just like me. I said "no" and we shared one uber long minute of awkward silence.

Finally New Roof, I want you to know that I had to make a lot of sacrifices to bring you into existence. In fact, I didn't even WANT you but my husband talked me into it (something about our old roof caving in with the next rainfall). In order for YOU to be HERE, I had to sacrifice a brand new car AND a really nice vacation to a location in proximity to the equator. Don't think I didn't deserve them either!

So New Roof, if you knew what was good for you, you would keep our heads dry for a damn long time! It wouldn't hurt if you grew a retractable sun roof in the living room either.

Love,

Your New Owner

Life Is Priceless?

Not acording to the hospital where I brought one into the world.

It's no secret that kids are expensive. But I had no idea one baby could put us back a small fortune before the age of five days. Right now I'm offering libations to the gods of health insurance. Without insurance, there is no way I could afford to give birth to, not to mention raise, children.

The total damage for five days in the hospital, including 25 hours of labor-related services and drugs, antibiotics, one cesarean operation, newborn medical care and a number of unspecified "misc. hospital services" is a whopping... (drumroll) ...

$ 23,081.85.

Yes, please don't forget the 85 cents (it's enough to buy one bag of skittles).

This price does not include my numberous bills for pre-natal medical care and ultrasounds. It also does not include baby's first check up and circumcision. It also does not include the costs of OB services... Damn.

Our total responsibility for Jacob's tremendous price tag is: 1,417.56 (hence the libations to health insurance gods). And I have to say that he is absolutely worth every penny. But that doesn't mean we aren't feeling the pinch. We got this bill AFTER we put a down payment on a new roof for our home (which s $13K) and AFTER we decided that we need to buy a new used vehicle (our '95 Aerostar van with 230,000 miles on it just isn't safe anymore).

This is going to be a lean next couple of years.

The Whole Point of Staying Home

I know that when you nurse your baby, you and the baby are supposed to share this wonderful moment of quality bonding time. But sometimes (after the initial five minutes of staring at his beautiful face, his big round eyes and his tiny ears) I get tremendously and painfully bored. Jacob eats about every three hours. Feeding him can take up to 40 minutes if you include burp time. That's a lot of time spent sitting on the couch thinking and worrying about all the things I need to clean, cook and pick up from the store as soon as we're finished.

Ok so what I'm really trying to do is justify a new bad habit solution that I've come up with. I've started to (gasp) catch up on tv shows while I nurse Jacob. I know. I know. I'm not going to win any awards with this one. I'm basically choosing to stare at a flashy screen instead of at my child. And I'm exposing Jacob to a habit of tv watching as a cure for boredom- not to mention exposing him to scenes of crude language and risque material. I'm no monster though, I cover his ears/eyes during really raunchy scenes...

So what exactly has stolen my attention from my son? Just the best shows ever.

- Desperate Housewives. I'm still catching up on Season 2 (the only season I haven't finished). So excited for the season premier (We don't get channel 4 so I have to wait until ABC posts the epidose on its website)!

- Dirty Sexy Money. I just recently stumbled upon this show and either I was super bored, it's rottingly addicting, or it's actually a good show because I watched all of Season One in a matter of days. Can I just say that I have the hugest crush ever on attorney Nick George? Anyway who doesn't like a show about the endless problems of the rich and snooty?

- Californication. This has to be the most clever shows I've ever been addicted to. The writing is great and the material is hilarious. It's slightly dark, very sexy and 100% funny. David Duchovny is hot in this show and his character is charming, rough, hilarious and unforgettable. I'm kicking myself that I have to wait to see the season premier because we don't get Showtime. ARG!

I'm running out of things to watch now though. I'll have to dabble in something new this week. Any suggestions (nothing scary, gorey or medical)? TV...it's like one of the main reasons I decided to stay home.

Proof That I Am The World's Biggest Nerd

Today marks the beginning of my law school's fall semester. My classmates are all embarking on their last first day of school and enjoying life as 3Ls. I can't believe that I'm missing it.

My peers are meeting new Professors in the same familiar classrooms. Cracking open new pages of unlearned caselaw. Scanning new syllabi. Marking new assignments in fresh student planners. Running into each other at the Starbucks across the street before class. And I am sitting on my ass hitting the refresh button on Facebook too many times in one hour while trying to distinguish hunger and poo pains from the onslaught of labor.

I so wish I was at school right now. I love the experience of learning and the feeling of starting a semester fresh. I miss the smell of new (and used) law case books. The feeling of cracking open a casebook and delving into a brand new legal doctrine. Then exploring actual cases that shed light on how that doctrine actually applies. Each case is a new document to decode or translate from legalese into workable english. I like trying to guess the holding of each case after reading the background and the statement of law.

I actually enjoy stringing the cases together into a comprehensive outline- trying to figure out how each one fits into the "big picture." It's like a great big puzzle. I guess I'm like the Indiana Jones of law school.

I love new pens, notebooks, highlighters, printer paper. I love new class schedules and class room numbers that have to be memorized. I love holding a coffee cup in my hand as I stroll the hallways. I love being present among other law students and feeling like almost part of the legal profession. I love being able to start the semester fresh with new resolutions to keep up in readings and to follow along in study guides. I love knowing that by the end of the semester, I will be filled with so much more knowledge than I started with.

My very favorite thing about starting new classes is meeting new professors. Especially intelligent, hot, nerdy male professors who wear bow ties. Yeah, it's a fetish-thing I guess.