Frustration

I inherited a new file at 5:00 Friday afternoon. It's never a good thing when a problem file hits your desk that late in the day right before the weekend. It's especially bad when this happens because there are depositions coming up in the case and about 3000 pages of discovery you'll have to go through between now and then.

The legal issues involved are ones that I've never encountered. And it's very clear that the attorney who was working this file hasn't done a damn thing he should have been doing. So they call in me to be the clean up crew.

No problem! I don't have my own files to work or anything...

This other attorney - the incompetent one - is supposed to prep the deps for me. Let me tell you how this works in my office. A week in advance of the deposition, I present the person taking the dep with a redwell. In it are all of the exhibits he needs for the deposition - pre-marked, copied and organized into seperate folders. He is also presented with a memo summarizing the case, who the witness is, and an outline of all the areas of questioning that should be covered at the deposition.

Know what I'm going to get from this guy to prepare me for the deposition that he's too incompetent to handle? Nothing. He's going to screw this up and screw me over in the process.

I guess I'm back to my beginning of the week bitching. Happy Monday everyone.

Vampire Series Part 5: The Ride

She leaned her head back against the seat and laughed heartily at the mental image of him lurking in the shadows outside her room. She was sprawled out in the back of a long black stretch limo. Her driver knew better than to ask where they were going when she was in one of her moods. Instead, he maneuvered onto the interstate and pressed his foot to the floor. She needed to feel the speed, and let her thoughts blur like the cars and buildings outside the window.

She thought their first meeting was by chance. She was walking through the market, arms loaded with heavy bags, when someone bumped into her, sending her purchases spilling all over the ground. A kind stranger stopped to help. They reached for her bags at the same time, brushing hands for just a moment. They both pulled back instantly.

She felt the electric tingle from his touch. Though his flesh was cool, it burned where his fingers grazed her arm. She knew it was rude, but she couldn't stop staring. He was handsome, in that take your breath away kind of way. His eyes were piercing blue. She always felt that when he looked at her, he saw her more clearly than anyone else.

His smile was captivating as he reached out again, this time to pull her to her feet. When he finally spoke, his voice still held the subtle accent of his native Spain. He was Amado. Beloved.

They wandered away from the busy market to the older part of town. Her eyes never left his face. They connected immediately, talking like they had known each other for years. Their first encounter lasted hours.

During that time, she never thought once of her husband and son waiting for her at home. When the realization struck, she knew she should have felt guilty. But being with him felt too right to be wrong.

Still, she had to get back. Before she could say so, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her further down the cobbled streets to where a large black stallion and carriage were waiting.

Her lifted her into the carriage and wrapped her in a fur to keep her warm. She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain and that she knew she couldn't fight, even if she wanted to. It wasn't a long ride, but by the time the horse slowed to a stop in front of her cottage, she had fallen completely and hopelessly in love with Amado.

Missed part 1, 2, 3 or 4? For more Theme Thursday limo stories, click here.

How times change...

I used to live a different life.

I worked longer hours. I played a lot harder. Drank more. Slept a lot more. I sang loudly and terribly off key at the top of my lungs to the music blasting from the radio in my car. Dinner consisted of a bag of microwave popcorn at least one a week at 9:00. I could make last minute plans (even though I hate doing that) and go on vacation without a second thought.

And now?

My time at work has to coincide with appropriate pick up and drop off times at daycare. The ride into the office consists of 15 minutes of bus spotting, singing "the wheels on the bus" endlessly and trying to correct Andrew every time he refers to a truck as a bus. (Think we're a little into buses right now?) When he feels like attempting the word "truck," it's a "guck" - which makes for some interesting conversations. I try to correct him, desperately hoping that "guck" doesn't turn into the f-bomb.

If I do actually get to listen to the radio, he puts his fingers in his ears when my off-key singing gets too loud. He screams "NO" at the top of his lungs when he wants a new song. He throws his fist in the air and starts bopping his head to the drum beat when he's really into the music and cheers at the end of the song.

I've traded my alcoholic beverages for water since the little guy is constantly drinking out of my cup. Sleeping in is something I do once a weekend, if I'm lucky. Dinner has to look like something actually resembling food, at a somewhat reasonable time. Popcorn is now for snacking only - and even then, only if Andrew decides to share.

It's funny how quickly and completely things have changed...

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

priorities

Usually I bitch on Mondays. After the crap way my week ended on Friday, today was bound to be no better. I could fill this post with all the things that pissed me off this morning alone. But I'm not going to complain.

I was in a funk all last week. Thursday's theme was "shadow" and it took me to a dark place.

But I actually got to sleep in (all the way until 9) yesterday and was woken up by Andrew barging into the room screaming "MOMMY!" as he brought me breakfast in bed. (Hubby helped carry the coffee, but Andrew cheerfully threw a bag of bagels onto my pillow, narrowly missing my head.) Then he climbed up on the bed, giving me a huge hug and kiss.

I sleepily thanked my boys for breakfast and told the little guy that I loved him. He melted my heart with a huge smile and a "Ah wuve ooo" Okay, so it's not "I love you" but it's the closest he's ever gotten. And it was enough to get my butt out of bed with a smile.

Things are tough right now at work. One of the partners that I work for is going through a personal nightmare and it's fallen on me to make sure that he doesn't commit malpractice on any of his files. So in addition to my own work, my dad's trials, trying to get up to speed on brand new cases before the other associate in the department goes out on maternity leave and now this, I've got my hands full.

But at 6:00, I get to leave that behind as I make the 8 minute ride across town. The day's frustrations fade away the second Andrew's little face lights up when he sees me and when he grabs my hand as we walk out to the car.

Because at the end of the day, this is all that really matters.

Last Day of Summer

On the heels of an amazing victory last night with the slaughter of the Red Sox and tonight's demolishing defeat, I thought I'd post this. (I think I'm posting it for the first time, but even if it's a repost, it's probably new to most of you) I wrote it after the last game at old Yankee Stadium. Special thanks to my favorite editor for clearing up some of my more glaring mistakes and not harassing me too badly for them.

_____________

The day began unusually somber, like we were going to a funeral. Sure, there were moments of joy - like when my dad screamed out gleefully that the Ledger wrote about us in its tribute to the Stadium (yes, we were the anonymous fans who wore bags over our heads and led the stadium in anti-Steinbrenner chants). But where the trip into the Bronx usually holds so much excitement, so much promise, today it felt like dread and mourning.

I walked out into the stadium, from the dark of the walkways to the bright sunshine, the blue sky, the green grass - sights so familiar I usually take them for granted. But not today. Today it was like seeing them again for the first time. And I think back to how many people - kids and adults - I've watched stepping out into the light, seeing the stadium for the first time in real life, a sight so breathtaking, the history of the place so overwhelming that they just have to stop and stare.

We made our way to our seats, seeing the familiar faces that come with sitting in the same section for the past 23 seasons. My thoughts go to the friends we'd made over the years who were no longer there - "Cat woman" with her nails so long they curled around to her palm like claws, "doc" who always screamed "split that rock! crush that pea!" at the batters, Derek and his dad who sat in front of us for years until Derek went away to college, the guy with the huge earphones who never failed to yell "BACK" as a runner was about to be picked off or "GOING" when the other team attempted to steal a base, Elliott who tried to stump my dad every week with baseball trivia and his disappointment when he never could, even "vomit woman" whose name is self-explanatory.

The stadium holds so many memories for so many people. I've spent almost my whole life there. Sundays and Yankee stadium. It was tradition.

Games with my dad and uncle when I was young... They'd point spots out to me "That's where Mantle used to play." "Babe Ruth used to stand right there and hit balls out of the park so the local kids, like your grandpa, could get into the game for free." In the beginning, I was too young to appreciate the game - so I had my activity bag, packed full of coloring books and comics. I had been going to games since I was 5, scoring the games by age 7. Later, I was as into the game as dad and Unc and my sister was the one with the activity bag.

We were there in the 80s and early 90s when the team was so bad that no one wanted to watch them. They'd announce attendance at 30,000 but judging from the empty seats and the eerie quiet of the stadium, the real attendance never came close to 20. We were the die hards. The real fans - not like the ones today who have been so spoiled by years of good teams that they don't remember a time when the Yankees didn't make it to the post-season...Of course, they rooted for the Mets back then - so why should they remember those years?

I was at the game where they actually stopped play because some dumb squirrel was running around the netting behind home plate. Old Timers Days where the old Yankees used to play the old players from the opposing team. Concerts at the stadium that were far more exciting than the actual games. Senior year in high school meant the milestone of being able to skip class to watch opening day. My sister and I actually got an entire section of the upper deck to chant "let the girls stay!" when a playoff game went into so many extra innings my dad wanted to leave early to ensure we'd get up for class the next day. I grew up watching most of the guys who came back this year as "old timers," which still amazes me. We had tickets to, and I'm ashamed to admit, missed Wells and Cone's perfect games.

I missed the beginning of the pre-game ceremony, but when I returned to the seats, the '23 Yankees were standing in center field in their old uniforms. Through the lights and haze, it was like the ghosts of the past had assembled to watch the final game. You had to wonder what was going through their minds as they stood there one last time in the outfield, where they had spent the best years of their lives and careers, before the stadium is torn down.

My dad and I upgraded our normal seats for the final game and were sitting about 8 rows behind home plate. For most of the game, the crowd was quiet, too quiet. Even the bleacher creatures were subdued, bizarrely on their best behavior. The final role call and chants of "box seats suck" were almost reserved.

There were a few moments where the true Bronx fans made an appearance - a drunken fool behind us screaming at Millar in the 7th as he entered the on deck circle. "MILLAR! YOU SUCK" he slurred "I HATE YOU MILLAR!" 'YOU YOU YOU BOSTON PERSON!" and, as Millar hit the pop up to end the inning "HOW'S THE CHOWDAH MILLAR???" My dad has his own choice comments - barking at A-Rod and calling him a dog.

I saw Chamberlain's dad proudly watching as his son's pitching got us through the 7th and 8th innings. In the next section over, fans swarmed Wells and Cone, until the police chased everyone off.

As Mo's entrance music started to begin the 9th, I looked at my dad, tears in both of our eyes, and asked "Do we finish out the game here or our own seats?" He didn't need to answer... We grabbed our stuff and ran across the stadium to our normal seats, our home. My uncle and grandfather had the same idea. We watched the last 3 outs on our feet, screaming like madmen... and then, it was over.

The Yankees won the final game...

Next year there will be more games. A new stadium. A chance to create new memories to pass on to the next generation.

But this was the last game, the last day of summer... One last perfect night. And it will never be the same.

Vampire Series Part 4: The Shadow

He watched them from the darkness. He was oddly touched by the couple's farewell. Overwhelmed by the love in her eyes and the way she had pressed the man's hand to her cheek.

The man now traveled up the walk, straining under the effort of carrying his bags. She stood by the large picture window, tears running down her face, sobs racking her body. The heartbreak made her even more appealing.

For his entire existence, he had always been searching. First as a human and then for centuries as a vampire, he always felt something was missing. He traveled the world, immersing himself in the different cultures, languages and people. He studied and had amassed degrees in more subjects than he cared to remember. Over the years, he'd had countless lovers and companions, generated considerable wealth and possessions.

But he always longed for...something. He could never quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that when he found it, he would be complete.

His travels eventually took him to Tuscany. One cool autumn evening, he sat alone at a table outside the market. Though he had a glass of wine in front of him and a book in his hands, his eyes never left the constant stream of people milling through the center of town.

Then it happened. Her eyes locked on his from across the busy street and when she smiled, he felt himself melt. In that instant, he knew she was what he had always been waiting for. A human. A petite little thing, with hair like black silk and eyes that penetrated deep into his soul (if he still had one). He was transfixed by the way she moved, the lilt of her voice, the charming way she bit her lip in thought. Without realizing it, he stood and began following her as she made her way down cobbled streets. He followed her to the tiny cottage and felt like finally coming home.

Though he'd had centuries of charming women, this one was different, special. He knew 15 languages, had advanced degrees in writing, and yet he could not find the words to approach this human. Instead, he lurked in the shadows, observing her every movement.

That first night was months ago. He had still yet to approach her, continued to watch over her like her own personal vampiric guardian angel. So he was there the night that her lover left for his apprenticeship. He watched as another man's child grew large and strong inside her. He was outside her window the night she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. He silently witnessed the lover's homecoming, his proposal and their marriage which followed soon after.

Some nights, he would sneak into their cottage just to be a little closer to her, to watch her as she slept peacefully. Just before dawn he would leave her side determined that tomorrow would be the day he would break his silence and finally reveal himself.

Missed parts 1, 2 or 3? Or maybe you want to see what else is lurking in the shadows...

It's Monday... Know what that means?

Monday is the perfect time for complaining. So that's exactly what I'm going to do.

I'm going to bitch about the fact that I had to be up in Bergen County at 9:00 this morning. Lead defense counsel prevailed upon me for a favor and asked if I could make sure I was there on time so she could get across town for her deposition at 11. I'm always in court on time, but I wasn't overly offended since I was traveling from the furthest away. I left my house at 7 so I could be there on time and SHE was late. And this settlement conference was a colossal waste of my time.

I'm going to moan about the fact that I then walked through the door and was bombarded by the following emails: "SEE ME NOW! You have to proofread my brief that has to be stitch bound and delivered to the Supreme Court in 2 days" "REPORT DIRECTLY TO ED! He was a very important question to ask you" "IMMEDIATELY! DO THIS NOW"

Okay...if you need me to read over your brief that desperately, you could have emailed it to me over the weekend. The question was not that important that I had to deal with it before I ate lunch. And I wouldn't have to deal with your emergencies if you had just listened to me TWO WEEKS AGO when I told you that we should do exactly what you just ordered me to take care of. By the way, if the defendant already mortgaged the property or sold it out from under our client, filing a lis pendens today isn't going to do a damn bit of good.

I'm going to whine about the fact that as I was walking out the door, a client retained us to defend him against an emergent application returnable tomorrow in the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. It's 6:00! WHAT do you think I can do for you between now and when someone has to leave to head out to PA tomorrow morning? At least the billables will be good...

And I'm really going to complain about the cop who pulled me over on my way home from work after the LOVELY day I was having. I was cut off by 8 different cars. People were whizzing by my window, tailgating, and doing all other bad things that violated all kinds of traffic laws.

Yet the bastard pulled ME over. For talking on my cell phone. Give me a freaking break.

And he immediately wrote me a ticket. I didn't even have a chance to tell him that I've never been given a ticket and have a perfect driving record... Jerk had to go and ruin that.

I think it's time for a drink.

So pull up a chair, grab a glass and tell me what went wrong with YOUR day. Misery loves company, you know.

I finally won something!

If not for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all. But, as you can tell from the title of this post, I actually won something for once. No, I didn't win big in Vegas. I actually never gambled while I was out there. But I am the winner of Mistress Auri's Smack-alicious Spatch-tacular giveaway...

And what does one have to do to win this interesting sounding contest? You have to make the fabulous Auri snort iced tea out of her nose with an original story featuring a pink spatula. :) I don't think she'll mind that I'm reprinting my story here. Most of it's true...some of it's embellished...but I'll leave it to you to figure out which details fall into the fact and fiction categories.

It was hell week.

All over campus, people were finding new and inventive ways to embarrass, harass and abuse their pledges. Monday night was almost comedic, if it had not been so stressful. The bus down to frat row was full of terrified pledges, each dressed for their house's meeting and prominently displaying their pledge pin on their lapel. If you listened closely, each pledge was mumbling the words to their creed under their breath. Looking back, the scene was ridiculous. But in the moment, we were all bonded by the shared terror and desperation of not wanting to be "that pledge" who couldn't remember the words to the creed. No one wanted to know what fate would meet them if they flubbed the sacred words.

Friday night was the lock in. The last day of pledging, where we went from pledge to neophyte and FINALLY to sister. I missed the last damn game of the '96 world series for these people. That bit of bitterness carried over into all of the hell week activities. Who the hell are these bitches to haze me in a test of my fucking loyalty. I gave up my ticket to see the Yanks clinch the series! What more proof do you need?!?!

The pledge educator excitedly announced that skit night was beginning in 30 minutes and we would each have to star in at least 2 of the skits. I quickly scanned the list and proclaimed (first and loudest) that i would *not* be doing the fake orgasm scene from When Harry Met Sally. I considered it a small consolation that I ended up in the paddling scene from Animal House. Nothing could be more embarrassing than faking an orgasm in a room of 100 people - so I thought myself lucky.

So, I stood in the center of the stage and waited for my cue. The lines were simple. But my partner decided to go off script, tearing off my dress so I was standing before the entire house in nothing but my bra and panties. "On your knees bitch!" she screamed, forcing me down on my hands and knees. We were WAY off script now.

Then I caught a glimpse of her grabbing something off the table. "Face front, pledge!" I whipped my head around quickly doing as I was ordered.

"Do you wish to join the sisterhood?" she called in a loud voice.

"Um...I guess."

"YOU GUESS?" she roared. "YOU GUESS?? Pledge, you must be punished."

She finally slammed the wooden handle of the pink spatula against my ass. Damn that hurt. But i managed to choke out my line: "thank you sir. may i have another?"

Fucking pledging.

What a pain in the ass.

Vampire Series Part 3: The Festival

It had taken centuries to build the self-control necessary to walk away from that kind of desire and thirst. Though the hunger burned inside her, her mind was already in another time and place. The memories were from long ago, before she met her maker. Something about this time of year always brought her back there...

It was the night of the fall festival. A night of celebration. Feasting. Drinking. Of blessings to the gods and goddesses for the good harvest.

The breeze blew in off the Mediterranean, making the unseasonable chill in the air that much cooler. She wrapped herself tightly in a blanket and moved closer to the fire. As she stared into the flames, a tear rolled down her cheek.

This was normally her favorite festival. She had loved it ever since she was a child. And since she met her love dancing under the moonlight, the day held even more significance. But he would be leaving her tonight. His career demanded it. Fortunate enough to secure an apprenticeship under a master craftsman in Marseilles, he had to leave their Tuscan cottage for 9 months.

She had yet to tell him that his child grew in her womb. She tried, so many times. But she could never bring herself to say the words. She knew he would never leave them. This apprenticeship was too important - to all of their futures - so she suffered in silence as he packed his bags.

Too soon, it was time for him to go. Musicians played jovial music outside in the streets as the townspeople danced and sang and drank in celebration. She went to him, still unable to say the words, and grabbed his hands. Pressing one to her cheek, she ran her fingers over his knuckles. His hands were rough and worn, the sign of someone who spent all day toiling with mortar and stone.

He kissed her gently, promising that when he returned, they would finally wed. "Wait for me," he whispered as he set out on his long journey.

She sat by the window and watched him go, vision obscured by the flow of tears. She would wait. But he had no idea how much 9 months time would change things and exactly what he would be coming home to.

Check out more Theme Thursday festivals here. Click for Parts 1 and 2 of the Vampire Series.

sleep deprived in vegas

There are 3 types of people who are awake at 4 am in Vegas. The ones on the tail end of their bender from the night before. The bleary eyed parents whose kids can't adjust to the time change and are up hours before the damn sun. And the casino employees catering to the previous two categories.

Guess which of these lucky people I am?

Andrew continues to be unwilling to sleep in his crib in a hotel...which means that for the past 4 days I have the distinct pleasure of having to sleep in the same bed as him. This would be fine if he actually slept. Instead, all night long he ran a freaking marathon, alternating between kicking me in the back and head.

And while I'm awake trying to entertain the munchkin in our room because there's NOTHING open at 4 am other than the bars and tables - neither of which I'm going to partake in with a cranky 19 month old - and trying to work because my being on vacation means nothing to the people I work for, hubby's laying in bed snoring away.

I need a damn vacation to recover from this fucking vacation.

Vampire Series Part 2: The Kiss

The bass thundered in the distance, far away from the dark corner where they hid from the rest of the world. She was still backed against the wall, arms pinned above her head by the wrists. His body was pressed firmly against hers.

Her head rolled back, exposing her neck to him, and her eyes closed. She willed her mind to go somewhere else as she struggled for control. It had been far too long. And the thirst was making her throat burn.

His breath was hot against her cool flesh. She could feel the blood flowing through his veins. Sighing softly, breathing him in, she could imagine how good he would taste. The most delicious bouquet of sensual aromas invaded her senses, making her weak with desire. The blood lust boomed in her head...

But his talented mouth demanded her attention. The vivid images of her fangs sinking into his soft skin melted away. In their place, she now very clearly saw their bodies tangled together in the moonlight.

His teeth nipped at her neck, bring a startled gasp, and turning her attention once again toward her ever growing hunger and the intense pleasure which always accompanied that first sip.

Moving with superhuman speed, she escaped from his grasp and had him against the wall. Fangs glistening in the light, she stared down at him as thirst and desired warred inside her. The vampire lowered her head for one exquisite kiss...

As her gaze drifted lower, she caught sight of the gold band sparkling on his finger. Ages ago, she had a band just like it. A husband. Kids. And it was all taken from her on the night she was turned. She had never been able to rip all that away from another. Tonight would be no exception. With one last longing look, she walked away.

(Check out the other Theme Thursday "kiss" stories here)

It's Monday...Time to bitch!

To my adversary:

You are the bane of my existence. I don't say this often, but I just hate you. You're not worth the energy it takes for me to be this angry, but damn you bring out the worst in me. Just hearing your name makes my blood boil.

I can't believe that you actually passed the bar. Not just the bar. How the hell did you pass the character and fitness review? Seriously! What sexual favors did you have to perform on who to to get yourself a law license? Or did you just get yours at the bottom of a cracker jack box?

You'll enjoy the little present you receive in the mail from me tomorrow. You want to bash me to the trial court in your little letters to the judge? Boo-hoo. Big bad Jaime actually wants me to live up to the agreement we reached TWELVE MONTHS AGO.

Enjoy 30 pages slamming your total incompetence to the Appellate Division bitch.

_____________________

To the 1000 traveling along the road with me, making my trip from North Jersey FOUR hours long:

It is a well known fact that Jersey is just not that big. You can't really drive anywhere for much longer than an hour and still be in state. So why did you keep me on the roads for four freaking hours when it should never take me more than 2 to get home?

Let me tell you something. That stuff falling from the sky is just water. You're in a car - you're not going to melt.

Just because a few drops splash your windshield does not mean that you should slam on your breaks. Nor does it mean that you should slow down from 90 to 2. If you can't handle a little rain, move to freaking Vegas and live in the desert.

Now. Get. Off. My. Damn. Roads.

__________________________________

To my alarm clock:

You have one function: to get my ass up in the morning. Some days this task is harder than others. But this morning, you needed to get me up at 4:15. Yes, that was supposed to be IN THE MORNING.

Damn you for not going off!

________________

To the hours police:

You got me this month. Be gentle. It was only 14 hours.

____________

To my other adversary:

Are you an idiot?

We settled the case. On very favorable terms to your client. All you had to do was send a check and the settlement docs in the mail to my client, so they would receive it by Sunday.

They're in North Carolina, dumb ass. Don't send a check regular mail and expect it to get there on time.

And do you know how to READ? You had to send the money with the documents to the client. What were you thinking sending the documents to me? I don't sign them. There's no place for my signature. Are you intentionally trying to tank this settlement?

I don't want to try this idiotic case just because you're too stupid to follow very simple instructions.
___________

*Sigh*

Is it Friday yet?