is now this guy...
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Practice Deposition Makes Perfect
I think I mentioned before how I have become a major slacker this semester. Seriously though, if law school was Candy Land, I would be Gloppy the Molasses Monster, just sitting on my butt in the back of the classroom covered in thick, sticky molasses. And...that made no sense. I am very sorry.
In my "trial" class we all had to sign up to conduct pretend depositions in the pretend case we've been working on all semester. Well, somehow, I managed to forget the day of my deposition until that very day. I looked up at the syllabus and realized, "crap, I'm deposing a witness in three hours!" So I quickly skimmed the chapter on depositions, prepared my opening- you know all those necessary intro questions such as "have you ever been deposed before" and all the instructions like "please answer the question even if your attorney objects- unless he tells you not to answer the question." One hour before class, I was totally ready. I knew all the things I would try to get out of the witness. I was ready to rock it!
When class started, I came to the front of the room for the exercise. Halfway through my intro, I realized I needed to have the court reporter (a random student who sits at the deposition desk and pretends to type in his lap- pretty funny!) administer the oath. So we do the oath and then I have to start ALL OVER.
Then I told the witness that she can only give VERBAL answers to my questions since non-verbal answers cannot be recorded by the court reporter. I asked if she understood. She replied by nodding her head. I was so awesomely nervous that I didn't even catch this until my professor pointed it out at the end of the dep. Yay for me!
We started to go into the details of what she witnessed the night in question. The witness (another student playing the part) was 78 years old. She was deaf, confused, and she didn't remember anything. This made for a pleasant experience.
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor that night?'
"What does demeanor mean?"
"How he acted."
"Oh"
"I'll rephrase my question for you. Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted that night?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted the night of the shooting?"
"Oh, wait. What man are we talking about again?"
"The man that you saw enter the bar."
"Who did I see enter the bar?"
"That is what I am trying to find out. You told me just a minute ago that you saw a man enter the bar on the night of the shooting."
"Oh yes. I did. But I don't remember."
"You don't remember that you saw a man or you don't remember how he acted that night."
"I remember that I remembered seeing a man. But now I can't remember him."
-HUH?!-
"Are you currently taking any medication?"
"No."
"Have you consumed any alcohol in the past 24 hours that might affect your testimony today?"
"Oh honey, I don't drink alcohol. It gives me gas."
How do real attorneys 1) prevent themselves from punching the lights out of really frustrating witnesses, even when they ARE 78 years old and 2) keep a straight face when a witness discusses her flatulence problems?
In my "trial" class we all had to sign up to conduct pretend depositions in the pretend case we've been working on all semester. Well, somehow, I managed to forget the day of my deposition until that very day. I looked up at the syllabus and realized, "crap, I'm deposing a witness in three hours!" So I quickly skimmed the chapter on depositions, prepared my opening- you know all those necessary intro questions such as "have you ever been deposed before" and all the instructions like "please answer the question even if your attorney objects- unless he tells you not to answer the question." One hour before class, I was totally ready. I knew all the things I would try to get out of the witness. I was ready to rock it!
When class started, I came to the front of the room for the exercise. Halfway through my intro, I realized I needed to have the court reporter (a random student who sits at the deposition desk and pretends to type in his lap- pretty funny!) administer the oath. So we do the oath and then I have to start ALL OVER.
Then I told the witness that she can only give VERBAL answers to my questions since non-verbal answers cannot be recorded by the court reporter. I asked if she understood. She replied by nodding her head. I was so awesomely nervous that I didn't even catch this until my professor pointed it out at the end of the dep. Yay for me!
We started to go into the details of what she witnessed the night in question. The witness (another student playing the part) was 78 years old. She was deaf, confused, and she didn't remember anything. This made for a pleasant experience.
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor that night?'
"What does demeanor mean?"
"How he acted."
"Oh"
"I'll rephrase my question for you. Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted that night?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted the night of the shooting?"
"Oh, wait. What man are we talking about again?"
"The man that you saw enter the bar."
"Who did I see enter the bar?"
"That is what I am trying to find out. You told me just a minute ago that you saw a man enter the bar on the night of the shooting."
"Oh yes. I did. But I don't remember."
"You don't remember that you saw a man or you don't remember how he acted that night."
"I remember that I remembered seeing a man. But now I can't remember him."
-HUH?!-
"Are you currently taking any medication?"
"No."
"Have you consumed any alcohol in the past 24 hours that might affect your testimony today?"
"Oh honey, I don't drink alcohol. It gives me gas."
How do real attorneys 1) prevent themselves from punching the lights out of really frustrating witnesses, even when they ARE 78 years old and 2) keep a straight face when a witness discusses her flatulence problems?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sex & Marriage For Dummies: Don't Read Romance Novels
I'm gonna go to a dangerous place here.
First off, I am a horrible person. I read romance novels. They aren't all that subtle either. I've got a problem. I'm addicted to reading about how the strong, sexy guy gets the girl and then pleases her beyond all bounds of reality. To be honest, I actually just like reading about The Chase and imagining the witty dialogue taking place. When the author actually goes into the DEED- I get a little embarrased and start skimming as if the people AROUND me can hear what I'm reading. Weird huh?
But all these romance novels have gone to my head. Now I have a slew of unreal expectations about how MY romance life should be like. For example, husbands will always tell wives how they feel. They will pour out their soul at a deeply feminine and emotional level when the need arises.
They will always make you feel sexy and loved and wanted. Oh and the obvious, husbands will always want to have sex. They will crave your body more than their favorite internet car message boards. More than sleep. Even more than nachos!
And sex will be often and spontaneous and romantic and HE will make the first move (think rain sex, in a woman's dressing room sex, on the kitchen table right in the pecan pie sex). He will always start by kissing you wildly before he explores every inch of your body -because, although he's seen it a million times (even during those times when there was a baby coming out of you), he is just as mesmorized by your every sexy cellular membrane as he is by watching the the final pass of a tied super bowl game (they do have passes in football, right?).
Let's not forget the obvious (and the most disgusting myth from the romance novel genre)- you will be PLEASED each time. Sometime you will be PLEASED multiple times in one serving, if you catch my drift. Romance writers- STOP feeding me unrealistic bullsh*t!!
When I'm separated from my husband during the day, I often rumninate over what will happen when the baby goes to bed. Of course it's steamy and piping hot. Then I focus on that all day. I look forward to things playing out the way I pictured them- steamy and hot and....EXISTENT. Then I come home and life happens. Husband wants to play on the internet or is tired or has work to do. I put on something sexy- trying my darndest to catch his eye. Not even a glance. Are these panties defective? Can I return them?
I lay in bed thinking about my failed day time fantasy. I'm a little let down and have lost all faith in the reality of romance. I think, hey, it's NOT me. It's these dang romance novels. They teach us to have high and unrealistic expectations of the male sex. It's not fair to us and it's not fair to the men.
I am two lessons wiser now:
1. Don't try to be sexy. Guys don't care what you do or don't wear. As long as you have the parts, they will take a drink when they get thirsty (that's pretty much what sex is you know, the meeting of physical needs- just about as romantic as taking a drink or a poop.)
2. Don't have any expectations. None at all.
Girls, that's all you need to know about sex and marriage.
First off, I am a horrible person. I read romance novels. They aren't all that subtle either. I've got a problem. I'm addicted to reading about how the strong, sexy guy gets the girl and then pleases her beyond all bounds of reality. To be honest, I actually just like reading about The Chase and imagining the witty dialogue taking place. When the author actually goes into the DEED- I get a little embarrased and start skimming as if the people AROUND me can hear what I'm reading. Weird huh?
But all these romance novels have gone to my head. Now I have a slew of unreal expectations about how MY romance life should be like. For example, husbands will always tell wives how they feel. They will pour out their soul at a deeply feminine and emotional level when the need arises.
They will always make you feel sexy and loved and wanted. Oh and the obvious, husbands will always want to have sex. They will crave your body more than their favorite internet car message boards. More than sleep. Even more than nachos!
And sex will be often and spontaneous and romantic and HE will make the first move (think rain sex, in a woman's dressing room sex, on the kitchen table right in the pecan pie sex). He will always start by kissing you wildly before he explores every inch of your body -because, although he's seen it a million times (even during those times when there was a baby coming out of you), he is just as mesmorized by your every sexy cellular membrane as he is by watching the the final pass of a tied super bowl game (they do have passes in football, right?).
Let's not forget the obvious (and the most disgusting myth from the romance novel genre)- you will be PLEASED each time. Sometime you will be PLEASED multiple times in one serving, if you catch my drift. Romance writers- STOP feeding me unrealistic bullsh*t!!
When I'm separated from my husband during the day, I often rumninate over what will happen when the baby goes to bed. Of course it's steamy and piping hot. Then I focus on that all day. I look forward to things playing out the way I pictured them- steamy and hot and....EXISTENT. Then I come home and life happens. Husband wants to play on the internet or is tired or has work to do. I put on something sexy- trying my darndest to catch his eye. Not even a glance. Are these panties defective? Can I return them?
I lay in bed thinking about my failed day time fantasy. I'm a little let down and have lost all faith in the reality of romance. I think, hey, it's NOT me. It's these dang romance novels. They teach us to have high and unrealistic expectations of the male sex. It's not fair to us and it's not fair to the men.
I am two lessons wiser now:
1. Don't try to be sexy. Guys don't care what you do or don't wear. As long as you have the parts, they will take a drink when they get thirsty (that's pretty much what sex is you know, the meeting of physical needs- just about as romantic as taking a drink or a poop.)
2. Don't have any expectations. None at all.
Girls, that's all you need to know about sex and marriage.
What's The Text Equivalent Of A Bitch Slap?
I guess I should go easy on my friends without husbands or children. Maybe they just don't understand the demands of raising a family. Or maybe my so called "friends" are just complete bitches.
Friend and I made plans earlier in the week to go out to dinner. Since then my son has come down with the mini-swine flu. Fever, cough runny nose. When my baby is sick, the world may as well be falling apart because 1) he won't eat ANYTHING, 2) naps? fahgetaboutit, and 3) he has to be in his mommy's arms unless you consider glass-breaking baby wails to be among your most pleasant experiences. When baby is sick, Mommy is frustrated and helpless. Don't mess with the beasts!
So my friend texts me, "Are we still on for dinner?"
Me: "Jacob is sick has fever have to reschedule." (punctuation optional)
Friend: "Your husband can watch him. I'm really looking forward to dinner!"
Me [PISSED!!!]: "He is really fussy- he only wants me."
Friend: "He would not be at the restaurant so who cares if he cries."
Me [OMG- what's the equivalent of a text bitch slap?]: "Sorry, Jacob comes first."
Friend: "Fine. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do."
OMG. I'm befuddled. That's my final answer.
Friend and I made plans earlier in the week to go out to dinner. Since then my son has come down with the mini-swine flu. Fever, cough runny nose. When my baby is sick, the world may as well be falling apart because 1) he won't eat ANYTHING, 2) naps? fahgetaboutit, and 3) he has to be in his mommy's arms unless you consider glass-breaking baby wails to be among your most pleasant experiences. When baby is sick, Mommy is frustrated and helpless. Don't mess with the beasts!
So my friend texts me, "Are we still on for dinner?"
Me: "Jacob is sick has fever have to reschedule." (punctuation optional)
Friend: "Your husband can watch him. I'm really looking forward to dinner!"
Me [PISSED!!!]: "He is really fussy- he only wants me."
Friend: "He would not be at the restaurant so who cares if he cries."
Me [OMG- what's the equivalent of a text bitch slap?]: "Sorry, Jacob comes first."
Friend: "Fine. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do."
OMG. I'm befuddled. That's my final answer.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Eye Love You
I only have 6.5 class days left of law school for the REST OF MY LIFE! I'm a little in disbelief that the hell and horrors of it all will actually come to an end. It's kind of like when you were at the end of the third installment of Lord of the Rings. You invested hours and hours into watching the movie and, oh my god, there's actually an ending to the intricate plot line full of battles I don't care about, long haired men and creepy elvish talk?
After my final law school exam in the middle of December, the only thing standing in between me and actually being a card carrying lawyer (we actually get cards?! Sweet) is a pleasant 3 day bar exam covering 20+ areas of law...how lovely.
So, aside from being in constant disbelief that I may actually never be a student again, for the REST OF MY LIFE, I am also in a state of awkwardness. Allow me to explain. There is this law student in one of my classes who sits directly across from me. Some of our classes are arranged so that the students sit in a "u" shape around the professor's podium. In one of my classes, this guy sits on one end of the "u" and I sit on the other. When I look straight ahead, I unavoidably stare directly into his face. The problem is that I do this often. I don't mean to- his face is just right THERE. I have to try to NOT look directly at him throughout the class. The result is that we happen to make awkard eye contact ALL CLASS LONG. I look in his direction and he automatically meets my gaze. Then I shift mine away at the ungracefully not so speed of light. AWKWARD! It's like I'm face stalking him. Or our gazes are clashing in the air between us and having a wild make out session.
It's getting so weird that I'm starting to wonder if he thinks I have a major crush on him.
Well, this week I discovered that he is also in another one of my classes. How did I discover this? By accidentally face stalking him of course! In this class, I turn around in the middle of class to get something out of my bag. When I turn around, the guy directly behind me is absent and, low and behold, whose gaze do I lovingly meet? Yup. HIM. Then I realized that I didn't have a pen in my bag like I thought I did. So, I actually had no reason for turning around and catching his eye. To the trained or paranoid eye, it could appear that I turned around just to have another intense eye gazing session. Now I'm trying extra hard to NOT look at him and I bet it seems even MORE obvious.
Final thought. To all those people who like to ask questions 30 seconds before class ends: SHUT THE HELL UP! Turn off your inquisitive mind and start packing your bags like the rest of us for Pete's sake!
After my final law school exam in the middle of December, the only thing standing in between me and actually being a card carrying lawyer (we actually get cards?! Sweet) is a pleasant 3 day bar exam covering 20+ areas of law...how lovely.
So, aside from being in constant disbelief that I may actually never be a student again, for the REST OF MY LIFE, I am also in a state of awkwardness. Allow me to explain. There is this law student in one of my classes who sits directly across from me. Some of our classes are arranged so that the students sit in a "u" shape around the professor's podium. In one of my classes, this guy sits on one end of the "u" and I sit on the other. When I look straight ahead, I unavoidably stare directly into his face. The problem is that I do this often. I don't mean to- his face is just right THERE. I have to try to NOT look directly at him throughout the class. The result is that we happen to make awkard eye contact ALL CLASS LONG. I look in his direction and he automatically meets my gaze. Then I shift mine away at the ungracefully not so speed of light. AWKWARD! It's like I'm face stalking him. Or our gazes are clashing in the air between us and having a wild make out session.
It's getting so weird that I'm starting to wonder if he thinks I have a major crush on him.
Well, this week I discovered that he is also in another one of my classes. How did I discover this? By accidentally face stalking him of course! In this class, I turn around in the middle of class to get something out of my bag. When I turn around, the guy directly behind me is absent and, low and behold, whose gaze do I lovingly meet? Yup. HIM. Then I realized that I didn't have a pen in my bag like I thought I did. So, I actually had no reason for turning around and catching his eye. To the trained or paranoid eye, it could appear that I turned around just to have another intense eye gazing session. Now I'm trying extra hard to NOT look at him and I bet it seems even MORE obvious.
Final thought. To all those people who like to ask questions 30 seconds before class ends: SHUT THE HELL UP! Turn off your inquisitive mind and start packing your bags like the rest of us for Pete's sake!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Halloween Tricks
The other day I met up with my husband after work to finish up some Halloween shopping. In between stops at every Goodwill/Value Village within a 50 mile radius of our home (we were on a quest for last minute costume item, like the rest of the known world), I pulled into the McDonald's drive thru to get Jacob some chicken nuggets (yes, I am mommy of the year for feeding my one year old child fast food nuggets).
While waiting in line I asked my husband if he wanted anything. He said no. This kinda pissed me off because he JUST got off work and hadn't had dinner. With my super wife/mommy sense I knew that in one hour he would suddenly be STARVING and make me stop to get him something. I asked him again just to be sure, "Are you SURE you don't want anything?" Nope, still no.
I pull up to the order screen.
"Welcome to McDonalds, would you like to try our new frappacinos with...."
"small piece chicken nuggets please."
"Would you like sauce with that?"
"No thanks."
"Can I get you anything else?"
This is when my husband suddenly nudges me. "Oh, can you order me a whopper?"
"Yes, I would like a whopper please."
SILENCE.
There is a resounding silence coming from the black order box. Hmm. Did I forget something? Am I supposed to chose a topping or side or something? I look up at the McDonald's menu. I see a Big Mac. Nope. I see a Quarter Pounder. Hey, there isn't a whopper on the menu. OMG. This isn't Burger King!
I feel all the blood rushing to my face as I try to make amends with the McDonald's employee. "Oh um. Nevermind. Forget that. I'll just have the chicken nuggets. Yes, that's all."
I turn to face my husband and he is cracking up. He is laughing so hard he's crying. In between sobs he says, "What kind of idiot tries to order a whopper at McDonalds?!" I start slapping him with my free hand as I pull forward to the order window. I was so embarassed when I had to confront the employee in person. I wanted to melt into my seat.
My husband got me good and he hasn't let me forget it since.
To my credit, about one hour later, he made me stop at Jack in the Box for dinner becase he was STARVING.
While waiting in line I asked my husband if he wanted anything. He said no. This kinda pissed me off because he JUST got off work and hadn't had dinner. With my super wife/mommy sense I knew that in one hour he would suddenly be STARVING and make me stop to get him something. I asked him again just to be sure, "Are you SURE you don't want anything?" Nope, still no.
I pull up to the order screen.
"Welcome to McDonalds, would you like to try our new frappacinos with...."
"small piece chicken nuggets please."
"Would you like sauce with that?"
"No thanks."
"Can I get you anything else?"
This is when my husband suddenly nudges me. "Oh, can you order me a whopper?"
"Yes, I would like a whopper please."
SILENCE.
There is a resounding silence coming from the black order box. Hmm. Did I forget something? Am I supposed to chose a topping or side or something? I look up at the McDonald's menu. I see a Big Mac. Nope. I see a Quarter Pounder. Hey, there isn't a whopper on the menu. OMG. This isn't Burger King!
I feel all the blood rushing to my face as I try to make amends with the McDonald's employee. "Oh um. Nevermind. Forget that. I'll just have the chicken nuggets. Yes, that's all."
I turn to face my husband and he is cracking up. He is laughing so hard he's crying. In between sobs he says, "What kind of idiot tries to order a whopper at McDonalds?!" I start slapping him with my free hand as I pull forward to the order window. I was so embarassed when I had to confront the employee in person. I wanted to melt into my seat.
My husband got me good and he hasn't let me forget it since.
To my credit, about one hour later, he made me stop at Jack in the Box for dinner becase he was STARVING.
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