Thursday, September 30, 2004

God, is it hot in here or is it just me?

Me, about 15 minutes ago.

Sniff sniff sniff..."Hmmmmm, it smells like smoke."

Walk around apartment looking for fires..."Hmmmmmm, no fires."

Think to self (as opposed to above which was actually SAID to self)..."Well, the window is open, perhaps someone walked by smoking a cigarette."

More walking around. More sniffing. More talking to self.

Finally realize apartment complex turned on heaters today and both wall units are turned up and making both heat and funny burning smells.

Think about how happy I am that (a) my apartment is not secretly on fire and hiding it from me to trick me into a false sense of security, and (b) that I am not having premature hot flashes.

It never occurred to me to even glance at the two heater knobs I have and make sure they were turned off. I don't have air conditioning (most people here don't), and I just sort of assumed that if I wanted to use the heat I actually had to DO something to turn it on. I'm not used to these 1970's style heating systems.

Anyway, I'm sure you're all happy to know that my apartment is not on fire, therefore saving the world's largest collection of things bedazzled with pink rhinestones.

I assumed...and you know what that means...

So, I saw the headline of this news story "Sheriff's Deputy Charged With Indecency In Salon Incident" and saw a little blurb over at Fark that says "If you're a sheriff's deputy, do not mastubate at the salon while getting your hair highlighted (w/photo of said dumbass)" and you know what I thought? I thought that any cop who would go to a salon and get highlights would be a woman...WRONG! Silly me.

Porcupines: Dirty Little Freaks of the Animal Kingdom

"How do porcupines make love? You would probably think the answer is 'very carefully,' but you would probably be wrong. "

Thanks to NDC for the link...and also for making me laugh so hard that I'm pretty sure I almost choked.

WTF is it?

They are building something outside the law building. It could be many things, but as yet, the exact purpose of the structure is unclear. Top three guesses are:

A) An igloo, only made out of metal and not in Alaska...but whatever
B) Modern Art
C) The world's largest generator cozy

Also, this morning I'm sitting here reading in the law school cafe (yeah, we have a coffee's TVPNM after all), and this totally crazy guy runs up to me, asks me for a dime, and then goes "Let me give you a tip, sell all your stock in can always buy it back for cheaper next year." Uh...OK Mr. Crazy Demented Drug Addled Mind Guy. Thanks for the tip.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Please God, let me die with dignity....

1. Meet my pet hamster, Killer.

2. There once was a man named Jay
Who tanned in the nude all day
He thought he was right
So he picked a big fight
And got killed in a most humiliating way
(I admit the last line is kind of lame...but I'm tired)

3. Hurricane + Gasoline + Trailer + Candle = Another guy who's too dead to be on Team Natural Selection.

And, just when I thought the Team Natural Selection pickings were getting pretty slim...along comes Leroy Brown. Ironically, Leroy Brown is not only a character immortalized in song by Jim Croce, it is the name of my dog...who currently lives with my ex-husband. But I digress. Mr. Brown believed his wife was cheating on him, so he set her pants on fire. She wasn't wearing them at the time, but he did manage to burn down his mobile home. How did that happen, you ask? Well, he was holding the burning pants, and amazingly, they started to burn his fingers, as things that are on fire are wont to do. So he dropped them. And burned down his house. Way to take quick and decisive corrective action Mr. sure showed her who's boss.

Finally, Jack Daniel's is making its whiskey a little weaker. The editor of Modern Drunkard Magazine is quoted in the article saying "You can't screw with a legend like that and get away with it, I'm sure Jack is spinning in his grave." Strangely, Jack usually gives me the spins too. The best part of the article though are the parts with this Modern Drunkard guy.

He says "I've switched to Maker's Mark since. I used to drink a bottle a week. Some of our board members drink three bottles a week. Once this gets out, it will be like the New Coke thing — they'll have to bring it back."

My god...three bottles of Jack a week -- holy crap...that makes my liver feel scared, like it needs a hug and nap.

The Doctor is IN.

I am sitting at my friend's house having a conversation about getting hit on by married men, prompted by a discussion of an incident that happened to me this summer.

And the question is...what should radar pertaining to figuring out if a guy is married be called?

Radar about whether someone is gay is gay-dar, for example (I'm so sorry for you if you are so divorced from pop culture that you don't already know this.)

We think the only rule should be it has to end in let's hear it -- the suggestion box is open.

UPDATE: E. McPan gets the prize for "best coming up with something awesome right off the bat"...STRAYDAR!!!! That is so good!

Day 3 of my captivity...

M. forwarded me an email that someone at her squadron sent out regarding the fact that an organization was going to sell bratworsts today at lunch to raise money.

Subject line: Sausage Fest Reminder.

Never let it be said that you weren't reminded. I am considering using this as the subject line of every email I send out for the rest of my life...just so no one forgets.

Also, I overheard this in class today:

Prof is shuffling around rambling on about something and a person in class (and frequent WWFFD reader) goes..."Drugs are bad...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmkay"

So funny. Maybe you have to know the prof to appreciate the humor, but never was there a more fitting comment.

Other stuff:

- Lately I have a thing for salt and pepper hair on men. Not sure where this new obsession is coming from, and I don't see it replacing the deeply entrenched "naked push-ups" fetish, but I'm happy it opens up a whole new age group of men for me to ogle. Yay.

- A reader today inquired about Grandpa Spatula and so I should let everyone know he's doing fine...he's staying at a short-term care facility until he's all the way up and about -- but should be home in the next few days. 1 out of every 3 old people that breaks a hip dies, so we're very happy that he's doing so well. I owe a big thanks to everyone who sent healing thoughts his way.

- I got a callback from the place I interviewed for the other all remember, the resume toucher. I have NO earthly idea why they're giving me a second interview but I'm happy because it's a good place to work, a medium sized firm that does the type of stuff I would like to do, and it's in the state I would like to practice in eventually. The rest of OCI for me takes place next week...not much to say on the subject except that I hope I get a job because I only have like 4 pieces of resume paper left and my printer is out of ink. These two things set up a spiral of laziness so profound that there is an almost 100% chance I will never escape and send out another resume the ones already out there (all 4 of them) have to do the trick.

- A 1L asked me a question today. He has the same professor and the same book for the same Contracts class I took last year. My answer? "Why don't we google that and find out?" I am the worst peer mentor ever. But the best googler. And I always bring snacks, and glitter pens, and change for the soda machine.

Just Because: The Franchise

Just Because: Julian McMahon

This is in honor of the Nip/Tuck discussion that went on in the comments the other day. Actually, I had another post all ready to go with some other bit'o'manflesh, and then I turned on Nip/Tuck tonight and saw Mr. McMahon (a.k.a. Christian) being a very naughty boy with a patient, and suddenly...I was INSPIRED! Also, he's an Aussie...can anyone say hot AND an accent? Hell yeah!

Tuesday, September 28, 2004


OK...just so we're clear...I'm agonizing over where I'm going to work and what I'm going to do with my life and whether I will ever get my shit together enough to be a big-girl lawyer...and this moron is not only a sexual predator (no matter what the judge says) but is continuing to work as a law clerk...which insinuates that there is an employer out there willing to PAY a law clerk who is in jail for being a sexual predator. Kind of makes being below the top 25% seem a little bit less important as a hiring factor.

Also, make sure you read carefully -- the women weren't nude -- HE was nude!!! That's so perv-y.

As always, here's the relevant information:

COLUMBUS, Ohio Sept. 28, 2004 — An attorney was sentenced to a year and a half in jail for ambushing dozens of women while nude and taking pictures of their shocked expressions. But Stephen Linnen, 34, won't lose his law license and will be allowed to leave jail to continue work as a law clerk.

He must start serving his time next week after being sentenced Monday under a plea bargain in Ohio's Franklin County Common Pleas Court. He pleaded guilty earlier this month to 53 misdemeanor counts of public indecency, sexual imposition and criminal trespassing.

Linnen, a former lawyer for the Ohio House Republican caucus, has admitted to photographing women while he was unclothed over nearly two years, gaining the name "the naked photographer." He apologized in court, but none of his victims was there.

Judge Tommy Thompson declined to label Linnen a sexual offender, saying he was not a threat to the community and was unlikely to repeat the offense.

Decisions, decisions.

Why does Gilmore Girls have to be on at the same time as NCIS? I want to watch both. I have slothful television watching needs here people. Some schools give out IPods and laptops and stuff...I want a TiVo, and I want it now. Also, an X-box. And a laptop with a spacebar that works.

Does sorting through used study guides at count as "studying?" I think so too.

Flying Japanese Sand Tigers

I'm watching The 101 Most Unforgettable SNL Moments on E!. It's really making me laugh. So then, I got this idea of how I was going to do a post that was a list of stuff I'm doing instead of studying...but I could only come up with two things. Even my study avoidance is half-hearted at best. I'm such a loser -- I can't even procrastinate in a motivated way.

1. Laughing my ass off at this post over at Running with Lawyers.

2. Coveting some new Chucks I just found over at I've talked before about how I collect Chucks...and these are DOUBLE PINK!

Two best things I've heard so far at school this week:

In one of my classes on the first day...the professor randomly calls on someone to answer questions about the first case (which was assigned as reading on the weekend before class) and this student goes "I'm sorry, I don't do homework assignments over the summer break so I didn't do the reading." Everyone sort of just stared in stunned silence...the prof seemed a little disconcerted at first, but to his credit, he just moved right along to the next person and didn't make a big deal out of it. I'm torn between thinking it's kind of funny and shuddering in a gigantic internal cringe every time I remember it.

In the class of a friend of mine, the prof was discussing summer non-profit and public interest externs calling legislative offices to try to lobby for things that the place they are working for needs. He describes trying to get money for animal rights and how the person calling always gets passed off to the agricultural department before finally getting the right guy on the phone. What does the right guy say when he answers the phone? "Hi, I'm Bob and I do animals." What could be better than hearing your professor say this? I mean, except for getting it all on tape of course.

The deadly North American ceramic head-bashing snake.

Further proving that no good deed goes unpunished...check out this story about a homeless woman who killed the man that took her in. Apparently he *gasp* told her that she should go to church. Here are the highlights, and also, I will be removing all of my ceramic snakes from the house forthwith now that I know they are potential instruments of death.

Turman, a friendly retiree who liked to sit in his parked Ford LTD and drink a bottle or two of beer, met Wells in early September. Some time between Sept. 19 and 21, the two argued in his apartment about Wells needing to seek God, prosecutors said.

She threatened to leave. Wells has told investigators Turman came at her with a knife. She quickly disarmed him and then stabbed him with a pair of scissors, prosecutors say. Wells then bashed Turman in the head with a ceramic snake, investigators said. Wells, weighing 230 pounds, sat on Turman, cracking his ribs, they said.

She then bound his legs with electrical wire and his wrists with chains, prosecutors said.
Wells then allegedly emptied Turman's pockets, taking his keys, and allegedly tried to clean up the bloody mess.

A few days later, after neighbors began complaining of a foul odor, a janitor discovered Turman's body in his apartment.

With her long, blonde braids and a fondness for red Spandex leggings, Wells was well-known in Turman's neighborhood. She would argue with some local shopkeepers, but prosecutors had no information about any serious criminal history.

Old and Busted: Basic Income Tax. New Hotness: Freedom of Expression

I dropped Basic Income Tax in favor of a second year ConLaw class called Freedom of Expression. The math was killing me after only one day and I was freaking out about how much work it was going to be. I'll take it next year if I need to. My only issue now is that I can't find the receipt for the $200 worth of Tax books I just bought...damnit. Why aren't I organized? Anyway, it'll probably turn up. I'm much happier only having two really stressful the new class doesn't meet on Fridays...bonus!


OK, I admit it...this guy has WAY bigger dental issues than I could ever dream of! I think the title of the story says it all -- "I Yanked My Own Teeth Out." Rusty pliers and vodka, tools of the modern do-it-yourselfer.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Reading? What reading?

Hell yeah beer and marshmallows go together. Marshmallows are my new thing...they are made up of spun goodness and light and sugar and hopeful fluffiness...I'm not sure where the new obsession came from, but it heartens me to know that they are compatible with all my preferred beverages.

Also, I am able to drink beer because I am going to get up early and do all my homework before class. I AM!

What in the hell made me think that taking all these classes was a good idea? My new mantra is: Taking 17 hours per quarter will allow me to graduate a quarter early. Early = time for a cruise with M. on the high seas (provided that after this season there are still some Caribbean islands left to cruise TO).

Reflections on my first day as a 2L

OK, technically I guess I might have been a 2L after I passed my final exams last year...but today, walking around the school and attending classes, I really FELT like a 2L.

Evidence: Seems like it will be pretty interesting. The prof is someone I had last year and thought was a good teacher and he tends to teach out of TV and movies, which is something I can get into. Overall, I think the amount of work is proportionate to the credits of the class (which runs for two quarters).

International Legal Processes: Love it! The teacher is supposedly super demanding, but that wasn't in evidence today. There is a lot of reading, but it's interesting and mostly not typical case law type stuff, given the subject. I happen to find treaties fascinating! OK, maybe not really, but overall, I'm excited and happy to be there.

Family Law: Can anyone say, SOCRATIC METHOD?? The subject is interesting but I'm so nervous about the teaching method that I'm not sure how much I'll learn in class. He doesn't answer any questions directly, instead calling on his next victim to answer the question. He also asked at least four questions that were not in the edited case in the casebook. Scary. Everyone who's had him though has said it's been totally worth it, so I'm going to try to stick it out despite the fact that I'll probably barf the first time he calls on me.

Basic Income Tax: The prof seems really cool and seems to have a good sense of humor...he even told a funny story today. The work is HARD! There is math, already...I DO NOT heart math. On a sidenote, the class is being taught in the classroom named after him...god bless endowments I guess!

Non-class observations: Everyone looks the same as last year, but many seem nicer/less stressed out. Perhaps now that they've all solidified their positions in the pecking order they don't have to spend all their time trying to equalize the playing field by being mean to the mere mortals. Diet Coke went up .25 in the machine. That blows. What a ripoff.

I am giving myself the next couple days to figure out the schedule, and then I'm going to try to add back in gym time. I'm taking 17 hours this quarter which isn't a totally crazy schedule, but 12 is full-time and most people take 12-15, so I am hoping I didn't bite off more than I could chew. Guess we'll see. One day down, 9 weeks and 4 days to go...woo hoo.

Perhaps just stick with the rum from now on...OK Mr. Pirate?

No, no,'s International TALK Like a Pirate Day...not International Take Hallucinogens and Think You ARE A Pirate Day!

Candybars: King-Size or Bust

In Britain, Masterfoods, maker of Mars and Snickers, says that they are apparently going to take king-size candy bars and sell them in two "shareable portions" rather than one large piece in response to concerns about obesity, and to keep up with companies like McDonalds who are now offering healthier choices.

"Shareable" is of course the codeword for "I have no intention of doing anything except eating this entire thing myself, just like I've always done." Who is going to turn to their friend and go "Gee, would you like to share this candybar with me? I don't want to eat an unhealthy amount of fat, sugar, and calories...which is why I choose to spend my money on KING-SIZE candybars!" I just can't see it.

I'm off to my first day of school! Diet Coke money...check. Flask...check (just kidding brand new profs in case you read this). Shiny pink hologram folders...check. Pink glitter pens with my name on them...check. $500 and 82 pounds worth of books...check. Apathy...check, check.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

Lament of a single girl.

Here's the thing. I have been divorced's true. However, that does not, in any way, shape, or form, mean that I EVER want to hear ANYONE say "Well, third time's a charm!" God, that is SO clever, I've NEVER heard it before!!!

It is also true that I am currently single. And that does not mean that I need this pearl of wisdom at least twenty times a day..."I met my husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend/sex slave/cabana boy when I WASN'T LOOKING!! You just have to quit looking." Did I say I was looking? Did I ask for advice? NO!

I hardly think 29 years old and single means that shortly I will be homebound with my 37 cats and stacks of old National Geographics calling psychic hotlines in order to have someone to talk to. God.

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Back to school again...

I finally went today and bought my books...$500!!! This is BAD! I am going to be extra careful with them, find some used ones (hopefully) on Ebay or Amazon, and then return them. Jesus. What a racket this textbook thing is.

Went out last night with my friend from school and her husband and some people from her husband's work. It was really fun and so nice to be around non-law school people who have interesting lives and jobs and don't know or care to know anything about Torts or Civil Procedure.

Today is the day of sloth...I'm watching one episode after another of What Not To Wear on TLC and drinking obscene amounts of Diet Coke and eating ice cream out of the container. Tomorrow starts reading for the first day of school, I'm totally bummed at the amount of first day reading I have -- don't these professors know that I'm not ready yet!!!! I am excited about my classes though, I think they'll all be pretty good. I'm in particular looking forward to International Legal Processes...the professor is supposedly really demanding but honestly that seems kind of refreshing, I would love to have a challenging class to keep me busy and maybe even...gasp...teach me something.

Anyway, tonight it's out to an indie rock show with my roomie from last year...not my usual scene but she's so fun and she promised we could go to this supposedly very awesome pub for a few beers, so I'm happy!

Thursday, September 23, 2004

I am my own armchair psychologist.

Do you ever have a moment of self-conciousness, of complete and utter self-doubt in your own ability to be an articulate and non-overwhelming person, so profound, that for a moment or two you are absolutely sure that you will have a broken personality for the rest of your life, and it makes you wonder how you ever made it this far with any friends or social systems intact?

I happen to know for a fact that I can be a bit...uh...abrasive, when people first meet me. But, in a nice way...not an evil uncomfortable way (at least I hope not). Nonetheless though, I am generally loud and opinionated and funny (I try anyway) and perhaps a little over the top for some people. And suddenly, I am having an attack of "OHMYGOD, I hope that all these new friends I've been making know that I'm just self-conscious and feel weird about my different-ness and my perception of my not-as-cool-as-everyone-else-ness and so I'm babbling instead of shutting up and observing which would be the right thing to do, but I can't stop talking because I want all these people to like and accept me and I CAN'T SHUT UP." This year HAS to be better than last ability to finish law school depends on this year being better -- and so far it is better...and I don't want all the defense mechanisms I put up over the past year or so to defeat my new experiences this year before they even happen.

Repeat after me: I will take time to listen to others and be a good friend and not be defensive because I'm afraid people will attack me first, and I will make a concerted effort to not let my own insanely intense feelings of awkwardness turn me into the kind of rambling moronic weirdo that I despise.

Ironically, this entire post consists of me rambling...believe me, it's not lost on me. I can't even pinpoint what brought this all on, and I'm sure tomorrow I'll look at all this and think to myself what a complete neurotic crazy person I am, but for right now this is what's on my mind. I've been very angst-ridden lately -- perhaps I will take that yoga class.

Crazy days.

Today we took our small group of mentees out to lunch --- a few of them for every one or two of us. About five or six came to lunch with myself and a friend of was fun and I felt like we got to be a little bit more like our true selves since we weren't in front of the whole group playing "I'm A Positive Person and An Exceptional Role Model" for them, a position that is clearly patently untrue in my case. Overall, I'm still enjoying the peer mentoring gig.

Weirdest moment was probably when we were walking to lunch and one of the 1L's asked me if I had ever been to this bar that's right across from the law school. I told him I couldn't go in it because it has the same name as an ex-boyfriend of mine who I really hate and it just makes me angry to even walk by it...I was trying to be kind of flippant/funny since I am (obviously to me) not holding a grudge against someone that broke up with me almost three years ago, but he was like "Oh my god, that's the most bizarre reason I've ever heard for not going in a bar..." and then went on for a minute about how strange that was. And then I felt like maybe it was weird, but oh well, I guess I can't help it.

Anyway, no word yet on Grandpa Spatula but I'm sure he'll be fine...he's a strong guy, even for an 83 year old...and he's stubborn as hell, so he'll be back on his feet in no time. I still have to work at the student organization fair tonight, then run across town to a potluck for another organization I'm involved with and then tomorrow there's even more fun stuff planned, not the least of which is the law school picnic. I feel like I'm already back in school -- pressed for time and stressed out. Fun.

UPDATE: Grandpa Spatula made it through surgery in one titanium piece to be exact. They actually expect for him to be up walking around by tomorrow night. Gotta love technology.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Everyone needs to send good vibes...

My parents just got back from a two day camping trip in their new camper and had four voicemails upon returning. As it turns out, my grandpa fell down in his garage either yesterday or early this morning (it wasn't clear from what my dad told me) and broke his hip pretty badly. He will be having surgery tomorrow...but sometimes for old people this is a really serious problem and leads to a sharp decline in health...mentally, physically and emotionally. So, think good thoughts, or pray if that's your thing...because he's my grandpa and I love him and want him to be well as soon as possible.

An entire book addressing one of my pet peeves!

So, I'm sitting here watching Oprah and some guy who used to be a Sex and the City writer and now wrote a book called "He's Just Not That Into You" chitchat about relationships. Normally I think Oprah is sort of a cheesy, feed your spirit show that doesn't do much for me except kill the hour between Dr. Phil and the first of three back to back episodes of Law and Order on various channels all evening. But, today, I have to say, is pretty damn good.

This guy's message is basically telling women, "Hey, if the guy you are interested in or dating is into you, he'll step up to the plate and be there...and if he doesn't do that, he's not into you and you should walk away." Hell yes. I totally believe this. This is one of my huge dating pet peeves...when the man makes excuses for all the reasons he can't be there/can't call on time/can't follow up on what he says he'll do. I HATE that! I love that this guy is telling women that as a guy, when he met his wife, he did WHATEVER needed to be done to spend time with her, be with her, make her happy -- no excuses were needed and he did the right thing because he WANTED to do the right thing. Yes!

Anyway, this is warming the cockles of my heart. Yay for the message that women should have high standards and expect to be treated as a top priority in a man's life and that they don't have to accept less than that. If it takes Oprah saying it or endorsing it to make women believe it, then so be it. Right now, I'm going to, for the first time in my entire life, buy a book I saw on Oprah.

Who knew? Oh yeah, everyone.

I'm Dogbert!

Which Dilbert character are you?

(link via Soupie)

I'm a Peer Enabler Mentor!

Today was my first day of being a peer mentor. We are in teams of 2 and 3L's, and we mentor a small group's worth of 1L's (about 32). I was happily surprised by how much I like my fellow peer mentors and wish that I had gotten a chance to meet them last year, when I was sitting around bemoaning the fact that I hated everyone. I think we did a good job introducing our 1L's to some of the general things about 1L and about our school specifically (quarter system, etc). I am establishing my role as the peer mentor who will encourage everyone to not feel guilty for doing things their own way and the one who tells everyone it's OK to have a little fun and not get sucked into being an asshole law student. I hope I'm successful. Overall, I'm glad I decided to do it, I think it's going to be fun.

I walked by the bookstore not once but twice today, and still didn't stop and buy books. I just can't bring myself to do it. I keep saying "tonight I'll finish the very last of the moving in stuff, and THEN I'll be ready to buy books and start reading" but all that does is make me procrastinate on unpacking the last couple boxes. I'm not ready for school!!! Maybe I'll go buy myself some fun school supplies to make it seem glitter pens can fix a lot of issues for me.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Just Because: The Franchise

Just Because: Jason Lewis

And, you can click here to see the infamous Sex and the City Absolut Hunk ad. It's maybe/maybe not safe for work (SFW)...depends where you work and if you can look at a mostly naked Jason Lewis covered up with only a strategically placed Vodka bottle...something that I KNOW I want to look at, as often as possible.

Dr. Phil: Sex Guru

Today I watched some of the most ridiculous women ever complain to Dr. Phil about how their hubbies don't give them enough lovin'. He gave them the usual tips...blah blah blah, dress up like a pirate and a french maid, blah blah blah, make time for each other, blah blah blah. My advice to these women is to quit being total shrews and shut their yaps or get a spine and tell their husbands what their expectations are and quit writing secret letters to Dr. Phil instead of addressing the problem at home, where it belongs. If they're half as annoying at home as they were on the show, I can see why their husbands just want to sit in front of the TV and rock the football coma.

So, the beautiful thing is this little chart that Dr. Phil has on his website to help us all understand the differences between men and women in bed. I especially like the lightbulb -- "Hey honey, I've got an idea!!! Let's consult our chart and see how long this might take so we can plan appropriately...I don't want to miss the first five minutes of Nip/Tuck."

The "OOPS" is pretty good too. "OOPS Sweetie, my 2.8 minutes are up...where's the remote?"

You don't say.

So, some women pretend to be lesbians because it gets them attention? Really? I'm shocked.


2 small cavities and I need a cleaning. Total cost: $682.00. Total amount covered by insurance: $0.00. Hooray for student insurance for being the exact opposite of what I need.

In other news, the bass playing neighbor is at it again and the glass in my pictures is actually vibrating. Also, the apartment office seems to have lost the package containing the book I bought off Amazon the other day. Geez.

Monday, September 20, 2004


Comment from my friend at the bar the other night when I asked if he'd been reading the blog..."Well, I was reading it, and it was really funny...and then you kept talking about law school and it was boring so I quit reading."


Horror, thy name is senior picture.

Holy crap this is funny. I hate to even think about my senior picture, and my mom has it hanging on the wall in their hallway so every time I'm home I have to look at it, and it's SO awful -- I mean blue feather boa and huge perm awful. But, not NEARLY as wretched as these. Also, the blog is hysterical (this guy is on a kickball team called The Greasy Cooters...I'm sitting here wishing I had thought of that for my Fantasy Football team). Thanks to Taunting Happy Fun Ball for the link.

I swear Mr. Dentist...only ONE Diet Coke a day, and I always brush right after!! :)

I have to go to the dentist tomorrow, I think I have a cavity. I called our student health insurance plan to find out what kind of dental coverage I have...and the good news is that despite the fact that I pay a kajillion dollars a year for health insurance that DOESN'T cover any of my medical expenses unless I go above the deductible, which won't happen unless I get something truly heinous (the deductible is several hundred dollars...awesome), it ALSO doesn't cover any dental work I might need. It does cover preventative care though. How very helpful. How about I need some dental care to prevent me from freaking out. My tooth hurts.

Also, a cavity can cost between $200-500 to fill, and a root canal can be up to $3000 or so. How am I supposed to feel about the fact that my so-called student insurance actually pays for matter what...but I'm too scared not to get it in case I really get which case they'd probably refuse all my claims anyway. What a racket this is. THERE SHOULD BE A LAW!

Energy Spatula: Representative of the bottom 90%

OCI: Interview #1

Scene: Interviewer is sitting across table from me. In front of him is my resume on top of a pile of resumes of all the other students he's going to interview today. We spend some time chit-chatting about my past job history, the firm, the area, etc....

Interviewer: "Well, what I'm trying to do is show my hiring committee that people who aren't in the top 10% or even the top 25% an still be great candidates for summer associateships and eventual hiring."


Me: "Uh-huh"

Interviewer: "Because you know that I believe that the major judgment on grades is at the beginning of the law school process when you're applying for entrance...after that if you're even in the bottom 50% that's still totally respectable."


Me: "Uh-huh" (thinking, I'm not in the bottom 50%, but whatever)

Interviewer: "I mean, in law school there is a lot of competition, and not everyone can have stellar grades."


Me: "Well, you know, I believe that when there are 60 people in a class and the point spread between top and bottom is 4 or 5 points, the grade itself doesn't tell a whole lot about the aptitude of individual students."

Interviewer: "I am totally with you on that. However, you know the hiring committee really worries about things like grades and unfortunately it's often difficult to get them to consider people who maybe haven't made the best grades but have other strengths."


Anyway, the whole thing was very bizarre. I'm not going to go on and on about OCI because it's probably not a great idea, and actually, the firm I was interviewing for is a regional one and I would probably be very happy to work there at least as far as location and the type of work they do...but in the interview it felt like I wasn't up to snuff as far as what they were looking for which made me feel inadequate and also made me wonder why they interviewed me. I assumed that the firm interviews I got were based on past work history and factors OTHER than grades, but then I felt like it came back to grades, which is I guess pretty much what I expected. How very strange this process is. Oh well, no more interviews until the end of next week and school starts Monday so I guess I have the rest of the week to do my peer mentoring gig and buy books, do reading, etc. On a sidenote, one of my friends from school had this to say to me this morning..."They're letting YOU be a peer mentor?" God, no respect.

Sunday, September 19, 2004


Clack. Clink. Kerclunk.

Those are the sounds an earring that you apparently took off while you were drunk and laid on the carpet for "safekeeping?" makes when it goes up the vacuum. Damnit. I have yet to find the other earring. It's probably in the freezer or on the back porch or something. Geez.

Star Jones...Different than Joan Rivers, but still as totally annoying.

I am watching Star Jones host the red carpet Emmy coverage on E!. It's been on for 53 minutes.

Number of times she has mentioned her boobs/the size of her boobs/how many people are staring at her boobs/how jealous people are of her huge boobs: 5

Number of times she has said "Black don't crack": 2

Number of times she's mentioned that her fiance is there with her and what a great wonderful catch he is: 4

Number of times she's held the microphone awkwardly with her left hand so that the camera can focus on her huge diamond engagement ring: Infinity+1

She also asked Anne Heche how her baby was, and then looked into the camera and said "Homer (the poor kid's name), Mommy and Auntie Star say hello." I had no idea she was so close to the Heche sure-to-be-batshit-crazy-like-his-mommy baby.


Is anyone else watching The Surreal Life? I generally detest all reality TV...but in spite of myself I watched a couple episodes on VH1 on Friday night and I have to say, Flavor Flav and Brigitte Neilson hooking up is possibly one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen on TV. It's so awful. Ack.

Also, last night I drank all the booze in TVPNM and today I miraculously don't have a hangover. Must be good karma. M. called me this morning and apparently I called her 12 times last night and left 10 voicemails, the drunkdial was in full effect. Also, at the behest of one of my friends I did a shot of something green and foamy and also a shot called an Irish Cowboy...the ingredients of both of these remain a mystery to me...and I think that's OK. Also a shot of Jack. And about 8 or so beers. See how totally amazing it is that I've escaped a truly vile hangover??

Anyway, first OCI interview is tomorrow...gotta spend some time today getting ready. Perhaps I'll have another Diet Coke first though -- it can only help.

Friday, September 17, 2004

Just Because: Drinking is Fun!

When the beer is this good, I don't even mind drinking alone. It means I don't have to share. Sharing booze = bad, blogging while drinking = good.

Just Because: I'm Pathetic

Hell yeah I'm sitting at home alone on a Friday night mooning over a totally made up character in a movie. It's normal. IT IS!!

A collection of thoughts not related to each other in any way except that I wrote them all down.

First day reading assignments came out today. Joy. Now I can no longer effectively pretend like I'm just living in this apartment with a neverending supply of financial aid money but that I don't actually have to go back to school. I've been sitting on my couch in my pajamas pretty much all week in complete and total denial that in less than two weeks I have to dive back into law school...actually, my peer mentoring gig starts next week since the 1L's have Orientation...ack!

I forced myself to hang the rest of the pictures and stuff today...somehow it looks more homey once stuff is hanging on the walls even though everything isn't quite put away. Nothing says "Energy Spatula live here" like a shelf all filled with shiny rhinestoney pink things.

Aside from all of the above, I think I have a cavity (bad!) but the bus driver that drives the "home from school" route is kind of cute in a boy-next-door way (good!). If you have to ride the bus, and I do, a little eye candy once in a while is a good thing.

I rented "Bend It Like Beckham" to watch tonight for about the fifth time while I hydrate for my all day drink fest tomorrow. And, finally, to complete this post made up of entirely unrelated random thoughts, my new bathroom has all lilliputian fixtures. The showerhead is about shoulder height, and the counter and sink hit me around mid-thigh. It would all be perfect if I was 5'1", but since I'm 5'9", it's been...interesting. It's like someone took my original bathroom and then put it in the oven and it came out as a shrinky-dink. Very strange.

And there will be rivers of beer, and pretzels for all people!!

In honor of my own trip to our local Oktoberfest tomorrow, here's a story about the REAL one...someone had a great idea to make a guide for drunken revelers to help them communicate. Helpful phrases include "bsuffa" (drunk), "biesln" (to urinate), "schbeim" (to vomit) and "obandln" (to flirt). " What more would you need to know? Also, I'm sure that when you're just drunk off your ass it's totally no problem pronouncing any of those words.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Happy Day.

Oh my gosh, this is so cool! All you do is enter all your information and it makes you a new template for your blog, and you get to pick the colors and even add pictures if you have some! So fun!! I am, of course, too lazy to take the template and actually put all my links and stuff in it, but I'm having fun making all manners of pink and purple blog templates.

Link via mellow-drama, a great blog by an author that appreciates good beer, a subject that as we all know is near and dear to my heart. I have, in fact, extolled the virtues of Rogue Beer here before. Now, if only I could get my hands on a virtual bedazzler, I could have the ultimate blog.

You're the one that I want...ooh ooh ooh.

OK ladies, here it is, finally....Mail Order Husbands. Go on over and find yourself a keeper.

Here's a little taste of what you will find there:

My name is Daryl. I am 17, but will be turning 18 in September. I figure by the time we get to know each other I will be legal tender and we can marry. My parents are kicking me out after December and I'd like to meet a woman with a lot of money so we can have fun. I like women between 18-45, but would consider older if we do not have to touch a lot. Country: Wooster Falls, ILL, U.S.A.

And, for when the honeymoon is over (and it has to end sometime), here's some advice on How To Get A Restraining Order.

Hurricanes and Mice.

My very first Air Force assignment was at Eglin Air Force Base, in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. My townhouse was about 1/2 block from the Brooks Bridge, which connects Fort Walton with Okaloosa Island. So basically I lived about two blocks from the beach, and happily, less than 2 miles from Howl at the Moon. My friend, whose family is in and around Mobile, AL, just emailed me that at least part of that general area is under water (make sure to read to the end of the story -- about the last restaurant open in Fort Walton). How strange to think that if I was still there I would be either (a) evacuated, or (b) working with the military filling sandbags or cleaning up flood damage in the community or on the base. What a difference five years makes!

Here's a good story about my townhouse in Florida. After I moved in, I found out that it was infested with mice. I would see them running and if the lights were out at night and the house was quiet I could hear them running in the walls and across the linoleum floor in the kitchen. So, I called an exterminator but he couldn't come for about a week, and I didn't want to put out poison because I was afraid they would die in the walls and smell really bad in the Florida heat. The solution? Mousetraps. They didn't have the snap traps at the store I went to, but only glue traps. The glue traps are sticky (duh!) and the mouse is then trapped on the sticky surface until you pick up the trap (or force your male friends to do it) and throw it away. It's probably not overly humane, but whatever. So, one night, I'm awakened by a sound like "Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack." And of course, since I'm asleep I wake up in a panic thinking someone is trying to break in or something. I basically lay there in the dark for a while trying to decide whether to get up and check it out, but the noise keeps happening and gradually I decide it's not a burglar but don't know what the hell it is. I get up and turn on the light and there is a mouse all the way under the closet door, except for his tail, which is sticking out into my bedroom and is stuck to a glue trap. It was so funny (well, it's funny now). I totally panicked. What are the choices? Leave him there thwacking away at the door all night, let him go and have him running around the house stuck to a trap, or take the trap off which would require touching the filthy little bastard. So, I did the only thing a girl can do, I got a broom and sort of brushed the trap away until it came off and the mouse was then able to run into my closet and probably eat through my walls a little more. I put out poison the next day. Anyway, now that I reread this it's not a very funny story -- but it took a long time to write so I'm posting it anyway. Sorry.

More Good News.

They are now doing construction in the hallway outside my apartment door. It sounds like there are jackhammers and bandsaws and nailguns -- Oh My...God.

What did I get myself into?

Witch infestation in PA?

What I love most about truly crazy people is that they think they are totally sane. Like this guy in Pennsylvania who thinks his entire neighborhood is infested with witches. What's really notable is that he is, thankfully, the only one that is able to ferret out the witches -- what would we do without him to warn everyone else??

Best quote:

Gene and Becky Dill live directly across Waller Street from Jenkins. He warned
them about the neighborhood activity, they said.
They just shrugged their shoulders. "We said OK," Becky Dill said.
Are there witches on Waller Street?
"I have no idea," Becky Dill said. "I don't even know what a witch is."
"Yeah," Gene said with a grin. "I live with one," he added, nudging his

Hahahaha, I bet this guy is in so much trouble now that they published that.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Great News!

Oh my god, I'm so next door neighbor is in a band. And they practice for door. And also, he plays the bass. Awesome. Boy oh boy, I hope they play for at least 5 more hours. Rock on neighbor guy. Don't let the fact that you have no musical talent whatsoever stop you.

We had one entry for the Madam Curie look-alike contest, and he was disqualified later.

Now, does this look like the face of a man who would get drunk, accidentally decapitate (?) his friend, and then go home and go to sleep while his friend's body lay headless in his truck until a neighbor discovered it the next day?

Diamonds are a girl's best friend...SAY IT!

So, I am torturing myself by sitting at home, alone, eating and watching crappy wedding shows on TLC. I just finished watching one called "Perfect Proposal" where they follow the groom as he makes preparations to ask his girlfriend to marry him. The show host just sort of hangs around while he picks out a ring and plans this extra-special proposal scenario and then she helps get the surprise going if need be.

So, the guy today made the engagement ring. Yup, made it. Out of silver and turquoise. And while I appreciate the fact that his girlfriend apparently isn't the "diamond type" (OK, I admit it, I totally don't appreciate it)...I just can't imagine getting a turquoise engagement ring. Believe me, having been engaged twice, I appreciate how far a nice diamond can get a guy. The whole thing was kind of weird. I think that as an aficionado of all things sparkly I just can't really imagine wanting anything except a nice shiny precious stone big enough to cause me to drag my left hand on the ground as I walk.

As an aside, but a funny one, my (second) ex-husband "planned" the whole engagement thing, at least to the best of his somewhat limited capabilities. He rented a movie, made dinner, was apparently supposed to be a romantic night at home. Except that about a week before I got there (we lived in different states) he had given himself food poisoning for the THIRD time and so I was scared to eat the dinner. Therefore, I was hungry and cranky when the movie went in. And, I know you're asking yourselves what movie he rented in order to woo me into accepting his marriage proposal. Well, let me tell you. The Pirates of Silicon Valley (shades of my high school prom here). Yup. So romantic. I fell asleep like ten minutes into it, and then basically woke up when he elbowed me in the ribs, shoved the ring in my face, and went "So, you wanna get hitched and make an honest man out of me?" Kind of amusing now, but not my dream proposal.

Also, I guess I haven't mentioned it before, but there are TWO ex-Mr. Spatulas. The first one is the creepy one I often reference on here as sort of an inbred redneck criminal. The second one is an OK guy who just should have stayed a good drinking buddy and friend. Anyway, I've opted not to go into gory detail about all that stuff on here, because it's not really relevant as I've been divorced from #2 for almost 3 years now, but see, now you know something about me that you didn't know before. Fun.

Anyway, the maintenance guy is here to fix the hinges on my patio door. A little scary that they are on the outside, the pins come out in about one minute, and I live on the first floor. So, in the interest of my own future bodily safety, I'm going to go supervise.

Just Because: The Franchise

Just Because: Christian Bale

This one is sort of a dual request. Heidi from Waiting For The Punchline asked for Christian Bale, and frequent commenter Kelly P. asked a few weeks ago for another boy with an accent. Hopefully they'll both be happy -- I aim to please!

PS: It's going up tonight but dated tomorrow since I have an appointment in the morning and I know how people can get cranky without their Wednesday morning manflesh gallery.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Good in Bed

I just bought Jennifer Weiner's new book, Little Earthquakes. If you're a girl and like to read, I cannot emphasize enough how fabulous her books are...especially her first one, Good in Bed. I have read it at least five times and I'm sure I'll read it five more. I won't go into a whole book review thing, but essentially Good in Bed is about a girl who is funny and real and whose ex-boyfriend gets a job writing a monthly article for a women's fashion magazine where he discusses her and their former sex life and their breakup for the entire world to see. She eventually (of course) triumphs, but in a REAL way. She doesn't lose weight and become beautiful and find the perfect handsome guy and get the perfect job. She stays chubby and meets a guy who thinks she's funny and beautiful the way she is and makes her own luck by being cool and strong. I love it!! Anyway, if you're interested in her writing or her books, stop by her website and read excerpts or check out the blog, I just can't say enough about how much I love her writing.

I asked for a car, I got a computer. How's that for being born under a bad sign?

Today I rode the bus to school to take care of some administrative tasks. I saw a lady with a bun. Over her bun was a hairnet fashioned from the cut off toe part of a pair of fishnet stockings. Very strange. I also saw a guy that had to be in his 60's wearing a yellow hardhat with a sticker that had the Honda symbol and underneath it there was a caption that said "Horny." Ick.

I turned in all my paperwork begging the University to consider me a resident for tuition purposes now that I've been in school here for a year. Those of us who started last year are grandfathered in under the old law that allowed professional students to get resident tuition after a year. Now, all students who start school here as nonresidents will remain nonresidents for tuition least that's how it was explained to me. At any rate, I want to pay almost $6,000 less tuition this year so I hope they approve it.

Lastly, I put up my IM information over there on the right side for both AIM and MSN. This way I can have even MORE distractions during class than simple wireless internet access provides. Yay.

Doggy Revenge

After my distress last night over the loose dog on LAX, I was heartened to read this morning that some total asshole was shooting puppies in Florida when one of them wiggled and caused the gun to go off and shoot the guy. Hooray for hero puppies!

Sonic -- America's Drive Through (Unless you're a cop)

My personal opinion is that if you are a creepy teenager working at a Sonic drive-in and think it would be funny to spit in the drink of an officer who once told you and your girlfriend to move along while you were trying to get it on in the backseat of your car, the worst place you could do something like that would be Texas. Also, Sonic has really, really good tater-tots. It's true.

Monday, September 13, 2004


I watched LAX t0night, in my neverending quest to find decent TV shows that I can become unnaturally attached to and which will eventually suck up all my free time while I eat too much and avoid writing legal memos and doing assigned readings. I wasn't overly impressed. The first thing that pissed me off was the baggage handlers driving the cart thingie all crazy which caused a dog carrier to fall off and a dog to escape...much forced hilarity ensued as the baggage handlers chased the dog all over the airport and tarmac. I happen to love dogs. I wasn't really that amused. I actually had a little tear in my eye when the dog almost got hit by a plane. Then I started thinking of the poor family that is missing their dog, a part of their family, and how they don't know if he's OK. And then I wondered if he was cold or hungry. You can see how this spiraled out of control. Jesus, I'm gonna have a beer and a Hershey bar and try to effing relax. Note to self: It's only a TV show. That dog makes more than I ever will. The second through tenth things I didn't like were pretty much all the characters except the hot Aussie guy who's the passenger coordinator or whatever. Yummy eye candy.

Also, I watched the season premiere of Las Vegas. It's a good thing that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder caused by battle can be cured in a one hour show with a nap and the love of Nikki Cox. Fabulous. Overall though, not too bad. I'm honestly glad they're getting over the war drama quickly and getting back to the real storyline...I'm trying to be entertained here people.

Of note: I'm watching the 10 o'Clock news right now. (A) If you are a woman who is going to be interviewed on TV, maybe get rid of the facial hair ahead of time. Please. (B) There's no B. Everything else on the news is stupid. Wake me up when the news isn't entirely monopolized by people who have nothing intelligent to say and are willing to do it over the course of a half hour three times per day. And honestly, the weather man here has it so easy. Let's see...I think tomorrow it might rain. Today it rained. The day before that it rained. It ALWAYS rains. I think if you can accurately identify that wet stuff falling from the sky, you're probably good to go.

UPDATE: I'm going to a local Oktoberfest this weekend. Hooray for beer. Mmmmmm...Spaten Optimator.

UPDATE 2: They just showed the long term forecast. Gee, the next seven days have pictures of big gray clouds with little blue drops falling from them. Could it be rain? I wonder.... of the hott hospital massage!

I guess to most readers, what's weird about this story is that an intern accidentally gave a shot of olive oil to a patient awaiting surgery to have his appendix removed. To me, what's weird about this story is that apparently in Australia medical interns give patients massages with olive oil.

UPDATE: Thanks to a commenter I now know that I can't read. But, to my credit, when I think hot massage, I think Australia. Must be the accent. Anyway, next time I promise to read the story without mentally altering the details to suit my own filthy massage fantasies.

Blogger or MT?

So, school starts on the 27th, and my first OCI interview is next Monday, the 20th. In between those two things I think I might try to move the blog over to Movable Type...maybe. If anyone has comments on either moving or not moving, I would love to hear them. I love how easy Blogger is to use, but I hear really great things about MT, and I love the look of other people's MT blogs. One thing I would like to have is more ability to change the look of the blog -- without too much of a hassle. Would MT be better or worse for that kind of thing?

Also, as I sit here with the TV on, I notice that Mark McGrath is the new host of Extra. Um. OK. I'm willing to admit that 14:59 is a guilty pleasure. I love it. And I guess Extra isn't exactly cutting edge journalism, so maybe it'll work out. But it's just weird.

Now if they could find my keys...

A team led by a retired Air Force Lt. Col. thinks they may have found a nuclear weapon that was apparently "lost" off the Georgia coast in 1958. I guess I can understand how a weapon gets lost in the aftermath of an accident -- but I'm a little confused that even in 1958 there wasn't some sort of tracking device on that bad boy. I mean, after all, they were able to invent a nuclear weapon, so why not a way to keep track of it. The best part of the story is that this guy's team isn't actually sure they've found the missing bomb, but know for sure they've found something big and radioactive. I guess we'll just have to be hopeful that there aren't too many huge radioactive things lurking in the waters off Georgia.


I paid $100 to get a cable modem installed today...and just figured out if I sit in my chair by the window I can use my neighbor's wireless network. Damnit.

Hello again!

Well, I arrived safely in TVPNM and got all moved in this weekend. There are still boxes stacked everywhere, but this morning I got the cable and internet hooked up -- and by a studly cable guy no less. So, all is well.

Here's a few observations of life in my new place so far.

1) Thankfully I can hear everything my neighbors do and say -- my recommendation is that the girl neighbor needs to think about getting checked out for TB, that cough sounds pretty bad.

2) I am on the ground floor in the corner, shielded from the street and any prying eyes that might notice if someone is breaking into my place to rape and murder me. The complex was nice enough to put the hinges to the patio door on the outside. Safety first. This is one of the (many) times that I am happy to be a gun owner.

3) The apartment that I am living in is NOT the same as the one they showed me when I came looking, it's totally different. So, instead of a normal apartment layout, I have this funky gigantic room that is supposed to be a combination living/dining room I guess. But it's just one huge awkwardly shaped room--no matter where I put my stuff it looks out of place. So, not sure how long it's going to be before I stop stubbing my toe on the couch because it's sitting in the middle of the room lording over all the other furniture.

Anyway, I am hoping to get up to about 80% done with unpacking today, and then tomorrow I get to go visit my favorite place on the planet, Financial Aid. Yay! I should be back to normal (read: not whining about moving/unpacking/etc.) posting by tomorrow night.

Friday, September 10, 2004

Moving Day...Volume 1.

Went to the Budget moving van place today to pick up my 15-ft moving truck. You remember, the one that I reserved because evil Uhaul wouldn't guarantee that a truck would be available, but Budget would. And guess what? NO effing truck. So, I sat around for two hours while they drove a truck in from the nearest big city. This is after they offered me a 24-ft truck for the price of a 15-ft thanks. Just the thought of driving a 24-ft truck by myself 450 miles makes me feel all creepy and icky. But, finally I got the truck, and now all my precious sparkly things and my wonderful couch are all loaded up and ready to leave for TVPNM at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning.

The good news is that two more of my friends signed on to help with the unloading effort. The bad news is that (a) it is probably going to be raining while we unload, and (b) there are enough people that I can't justify hiring Mr. Kilt, the Scottish moving man/escort?/boy Friday. Oh well, there's always next time I guess.

I am scheduled to have the internet hooked up on Monday sometime, and if that all works out and I don't run the moving van off a cliff because I would rather die a horribly, fiery death than try to back it up or make a left turn, then I guess I'll be back to posting on Monday night or Tuesday. Might post something tonight depending on how much more work I need to get done to get all the way ready to go. I'm sure you'll all miss me tremendously in my absence. Quit laughing.

So, I was trying to decide who to leave in charge while I was gone...Soupie? Larry? Dylan? Rufus? NDC? Half-Cocked? And all of the sudden I was reminded of that Jimmy Buffett song "Gypsies in the Palace." So, I'm just going to hope that, as in the song, when I get back the place looks as good as new.

Gypsies in the Palace
By: Jimmy Buffett, Glenn Frey, Will Jennings

Spoken: "In days of old, when knights were bold, And journeyed from their castles, Trusty men were left behind, Knights needed not the hassles. They helped themselves to pig and peach, And drank from King's own chalice. Oh, it was a stirring sight These gypsies in the palace." "And some things never change. Hit it boys!"

So long boss, knock 'em dead, don't worry 'bout a thing
Wish that we could come along, we'd love to hear you sing
Limo's here, your bags are packed, the list is by the phone
Me and Snake will watch your place and treat it like our own

Look at all this liquor
Look at all this food
It's only gonna go to waste
We're not really being rude

But the good stuff's in his closet, I swear he wouldn't mind
Hell we'll just shoot the lock off, I do it all the time

We're gypsies in the palace,
He's left us here alone
The Order of the Sleepless Knights will now assume the throne
We ain't got no money, we ain't got no right
But we're gypsies in the palace, we got it all tonight

There's damsels in distress out there and we got all this beer
We'll free them from their condos and bring 'em over here
We'll show them his gold records
We'll play his music loud
We'll party just like Bubba does
We'll do the old man proud

We're gypsies in the palace, there ain't no wrong or right
We're gypsies in the palace, and a' goin' wild tonight

He's the greatest guy to work for, man he's really cool
Hey Snake this party's gettin' dull, throw someone in the pool
Hey let's all take our clothes off and form a conga line
Watch out for that broken glass, hey Snake we need more wine
We're gypsies in the palace, there ain't no wrong or right
We're gypsies in the palace, and we're raisin' hell tonight

Hey Oh hi there boss, what's goin' on
You say you're coming WHEN?
I'll send Snake out to pick you up tomorrow night at ten, OKAY!

Everybody outta here, this joint is closin' down
We gotta find someone to clean this up, he's comin' back to town
Hi there boss we waxed your cars, we raked and mowed your lawn
We couldn't find enough to do in the short time you were gone
Man it sure is peaceful here, you've really got it all
If you ever hit the road again, give me and Snake a call

We're gypsies in the palace, he's left us here alone
The Order of the Sleepless Knights will now assume the throne
We ain't got no money, we ain't got no right
But we're gypsies in the palace, we got it all tonight

Spoken: "Hey, Jimmy, It's Glenn" "Glenn, How ya doin'?" "Fine man, I'm goin' on the road. Do you know anybody who could possibly house-sit for me?" "I got these two great guys that look after my place. Man, they're the best!"

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Oh great.

I got an email today from the Evil Minions of Satan (a.k.a. Financial Aid) that they had fixed my account.

Fixed (fiksd):

1. To make wrong in an entirely new and different way.
2. To make not right.
3. To not fix at all.


Chain Gang

I am on serious work detail today getting ready to load the new, non-Uhaul, Budget moving truck tomorrow. I have been ordered by my parents to get my shit packed and my clothes washed and my room clean ("it should look like you never lived there"), etc. Plus, I still have to go through my mom's stuff to see what I can wrangle her into giving me. I've already secured a KitchenAid Mixer, a pretty nice gas grill, a heavy duty blender (for really), all manners of kitchen implements and non-perishable goods, and a dining room table. Oh yeah, and a microwave. I actually think my mom likes to give me all this crap because she runs right out and buys all new stuff while my dad is at work. God I love her.

Anyway, no time for posting right now. First chore is go paint the shelf my dad made me for all my junky knick-knacks (as he calls them) since the new place doesn't have a fireplace and all this crap used to sit on my mantle in Texas. Oooooohhhh...I'm so excited to have my stuff again. I love my couch so much. Perhaps later I will tell you the story of how my couch came to be...suffice it to say that I lugged it cross country and then stored it for over a year because I just couldn't bear to give it up. That's a lotta love.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Professor Klarvin writes a book...Ohhhhh Lover.

I know that some of you may be thinking already about what to get me for Christmas. Well, think no more. My coffee table has a nice big empty spot just the right size for The Penis Atlas. The stated purpose of this book is "to inform, demystify and correct many existing misunderstandings about the male sex organ." And of course, I will treat The Penis Atlas with the respect and dignity it so clearly and richly deserves...I mean, it's science right? It's not like it would be appropriate to get really drunk with all my girlfriends and then critique all 100 penises in the book in minute and exacting detail. I would never do something like that. Really.

But, I DO think this would be the perfect book to start out the Energy Spatula Book Club with.

Let's see, for the first book club meeting I'm gonna need 15 copies of The Penis Atlas, four bottles of Absolut, internet access, hot oil, fruit roll ups, and a Twister game.

I have a new attitude (at least temporarily).

Yesterday I was so cranky I thought I would die. I spent the entire day in a ball of angst consumed with worry regarding the ever looming specter of Law School Yet-to-Come. And then today happened.

Today I spent two hours buck naked and getting rubbed down with hot a Licensed Massage Therapist. Holy crap. She did some amazing things to my back and neck that I didn't even know needed to be done, and honestly, I feel SO much better. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if she was a Viking god named Sven wearing only a bursting-at-the-seam loincloth (do loinclothes have seams?). Well, you get the idea.

I have made a vow that someway, somehow, I am going to find a way to continue getting massages once school starts, even if it's only once a quarter or once a month.

I still don't want to go back to school, but after accepting the fact that I have to and am going to, it is so nice to feel like my shoulders are where they are supposed to be instead of hovering up around my ears, and my back is in something resembling actual alignment. And the best part is, my mom paid! My mom goes to this woman (actually she's my age, so maybe young woman is more accurate) once a week, for an hour and a half, and she has always raved about how great she is...and I've always only half listened because as we've established, my mom can be a little dippy (in a nice way) sometimes. But really and truly this is the least stressed out I've felt since WAY before I started school and the therapist was SO nice. The whole experience was awesome. Sigh.

And, according to the therapist, my homework assignment is to take a yoga class to help deal with the stress and computer-hunching associated with school. That is something I wanted to do anyway, so I guess I'll try that out too. Maybe I'll at least be able to forget how much I hate school for a couple hours a week...without the use of alcohol.

Just Because: The Franchise

Just Because: Adam Brody (per Larry's request)

PS: I apologize heartily for the delay -- Blogger has been down since yesterday afternoon.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004


This was my night:

3:14 a.m.


I get up and wander around room looking for pants.


Turn off speakers on computer (the computer isn't even on, but god the Beeping is loud).


Unplug printer/scanner from wall.


Stare at smoke detector trying to decide if that's where it's coming from.


Keep staring, wonder what to do, it's the middle of the night.


Hope parents will wake up and come fix it, lie in fetal position...just hoping.


No luck.


Go to parents room, press ear against door, knock quietly -- no answer.


Open door just a crack and get mowed down by Molly the Satanic Dog who thinks it's Middle of the Night Playtime.


" room is beeping."


My dad goes "Alright...I'm up...what's going on...what beeping? I don't smell a fire? Is there a fire? What beeping?"


"I think the battery is dead or something."


Dad gets ladder out of garage and blearily takes 9V battery out of smoke detector which also has a little extra power storage thingie in it to let it beep after the battery is out.

I say "Why can't they just let us take out the battery and have it be quiet?"
Dad: "Because then people would take the batteries out and not use their smoke detectors" (Leave it to him to be the voice of reason at 3:30 a.m.)
Me: "But we're smart...we wouldn't do that...."
Dad: "That's what a lot of extra crispy people said too."

BEEP...BEep...Beep...beep...b e e p....

When all is said and done it is 3:31 a.m. and I can't go back to sleep, so I read another chapter in my trashy romance novel and finally fall back to sleep only to dream about EFFING FINANCIAL AID. Oh god, will the pain never end?

There will be another installment of "How Financial Aid Ruined My Life and Forced Me to Become a Two-Dollar Whore to Pay for Law School" upcoming soon...I'm waiting for them to email me back today and tell me just how bad they've screwed me over (and from them, I probably won't even get the two bucks, those bastards). Fun!

The bright spot of the day is that I cancelled my truck reservation with evil U-haul and got a reservation through Budget, a company that will actually guarantee that you will have a truck on the morning you need it if you reserve one ahead of time -- imagine that!?! So, Friday is move all the stuff from the storage unit and my parent's attic into the truck day, and Saturday at the crack of dawn I head back to TVPNM to start another fabulous year of law school.

A crossbow?

I think it is a strange world when your cell phone cover saves you from a crossbow attack perpetrated by a pissed off low level drug dealer. That just seems weird. Nobody uses crossbows anymore for revenge, do they?

Sunday, September 05, 2004

I need a nap.

Got up at the crack of dawn this morning to go with my dad and his friend up the mountain and register yet MORE bike riders for the race today, then hung around and worked the finish line (if you know what I mean...and I think you do), and finally got home a couple hours ago. I got about 5 hours of sleep and spent all morning getting "directive suggestions" from other people who hadn't had enough sleep, since most of the people involved with coordinating the race, and a good portion of the riders, camped on the mountain last night so as to not have to drive up there early this morning. Don't get me wrong, I'm SO glad no one tried to force me to camp (god forbid) but it was a long morning. Also, this is so going on my resume, it was for charity and I got to be the boss of people...the best of both worlds.

Other than that, my dad's friend that he rode with is named Ben and he's a dentist and it took all of my self-control to not spend all morning calling him "Dental Ben." Even thinking it makes me laugh and I know he must wonder why I'm such a psycho that I'm always just spontaneously breaking into psycho-giggles with no provocation. Also, Dad Spatula came in first in his age group for his class, and only fourth in his entire he basically beat about 20 other riders that were all younger than him. I'm still pretty sure I'm adopted since I show NONE of this athletic prowess at all...unless you count marathon alchohol tolerance.

We're going to see The Bourne Supremacy this afternoon. I've already seen it but it's the only movie at the theater that meets my parent's strict requirements of not being R-rated and not being a "stupid kid's movie" and also there are only like 5 movies at the local theater, this being Podunk-ville and all. So, at least I can moon a little over Matt Damon I guess...I don't particularly think he's all that hot, but I have to say, I think they got him a tan and some steroids for this one because he looks a definite step above his regular old pale, kinda scrawny usual self.

Friday, September 03, 2004

It's got raisins in it... you like raisins.

Dear Self,

I know today is a big day for you since you are working down at the bike shop and thus have a chance to remind everyone there you are not always a huge, awkward loser. But, sometimes, and I say this with love, you have a tendency to...well, let's say...speak without thoroughly filtering your...uh...well, your entire personality (sorry to be harsh, but it needed to be said). Now, your job today is to sign bike-riders up for the big bike race tomorrow. This is a charity event and these people are giving their money and time for a good cause. Under no circumstance should you do any of the following:

- Crotch-watch. Even if it is right at eye level when you're sitting at the sign-up table. Just look away.
- Make any joke involving booze, one-night stands, lower body (any portion thereof) numbness, or regarding legitimate personal choices related to leg shaving for a small, regional bike race. It's a valid choice. Really.
- Touch any heinie. Even if it's encased in spandex, and therefore "asking for it."
- Ask any rider about their cardiovascular endurance and then wink.
- Use the phrase "If you know what I mean...and I think you do" after innocuous comments by's seriously not funny. Except to you...and that is not indicative of what the general public may or may not find amusing, as we well know.

Remember. Your dad works there. Please do not besmirch the family name with your lack of impulse control and inability to shut your trap. Do not touch anything that doesn't belong to you. That seriously goes double for heinies.

Yours Truly,


Gmail = electronic kudzu*.

Despite my best intentions, and giving away several invitations, I STILL have several Gmail invitations to give out. So, if you want one, drop me a line. If your grandma wants one have her drop me a line. Whatever. I even tried to give them to Gmail For Troops and they said they had WAY more invitations than people that want them. I gave one to my friend, Capt. Shane, who is actually in Iraq, and he said he'd ask around if anyone wanted one, but seriously, I can't give these stupid things away. Really.

In light of these developments I am dropping both the nudie picture and move my stuff while wearing a kilt requirements and will give one to anyone who wants one that is actually smart enough to let me email, comment, telegraph, morse code...whatever.

*For all non-Southerners, here's an explanation of kudzu so you can get my not-that-funny reference. THIS is where EVERY single girl I ever hated in High School went to Summer Camp. It all makes sense now!

I guess kids at the Britney Spears Camp for the Performing Arts are pissed because the Britster skipped out on visiting them this year. What do you think they do there?

8:00 a.m. Breakfast. The campers aren't actually allowed to eat...they mostly just sit around talking about each other and comparing things they aren't going to eat today.

8:30 a.m. Physical Fitness. Campers may choose from the following classes:
Basic Striptease for 11-13 year olds (Beginner)
Pole-work like a Pro (Intermediate)
Cardio-Backseat Clothing Removal (Advanced)
Spinning (Please remember the required uniform consists of BOTH the kneesocks AND the Catholic Schoolgirl skirt!

9:30 a.m. Group Activities. Campers may choose either a trip to the mall to buy knives to stab each other in the back with later, or a tour of the camp's plastic surgery clinic where they will be able to purchase raffle tickets to win a pair of brand new silicone breast implants (12 and up only PLEASE -- we don't want another "incident" now do we?).

Noon Lunch. Once again, there will be no actual eating but each table of campers will be provided with a waiter or waitress on whom they may practice their diva skills. There is nothing sweeter than the sound of one hundred girly little voices screeching "I SAID NO ICE DAMNIT."

1:00 p.m. Arts and Crafts. Campers will learn the fine art of taking a plain mesh body stocking that can be purchased at any roadside adult novelty shop and painstakingly sewing five sequins over each nipple to make it wearable in public.

2:30 p.m. Lecture: "Low Rider Jeans: They're Not Just For Girls With Nice Figures Anymore" OR "Making Out With Other Girls For Fun And Profit (and free drinks): You Probably Won't Make It Big Like Britney, But Girls Gone Wild Is Totally Doable For Each And Every Camper Here...DARE TO DREAM GIRLS!"

4:00 p.m. Seminar: "Bad Boys: They Might Be Scumbags But That's No Reason Not To Marry One."

5:30 p.m. Dinner. Yeah right.

6:30 p.m. Nightly artistic performances. Each camper will have a chance to show off a routine using the skills they've learned at the Britney Spears Camp for the Performing Arts. It is not unusual to see five stripteases, three lesbian kissing scenes, two curseword laden vitriolic discourses, and one ill-conceived Las Vegas wedding re-enactment on any given night. Our campers are just little starbursts of talent waiting to be discovered!!

Thursday, September 02, 2004

A new happy place.

This blog is SO funny. And by funny, I mean snarky. And I love snarky like I love few other things in life that aren't either pink and sparkly or filled with booze or wearing tight jeans (or a kilt for that matter) and answering to my every beck and call. Thanks to Lawren for the link.

Adventures with Mama Spatula

My mom is a...uh...unique individual. She is entirely good and wonderful and would do anything for anyone, but at the same time she is prone to...well...let's call them outburts of random thinking. For instance, the other day at Home Depot she told the cashier guy that she is convinced that an entire family of wasps live in between the "layers of pink stuff" in the attic. And surprisingly, whenever my dad goes up there, he can't find the wasps. Shocking.

And, I've told you before that she thinks Molly the Satanic Dog has the Sixth Sense. She also believes that ice cubes and water from the automatic water dispenser in the fridge door give her heart palpitations. During the reign of our last princess dog, Abby, my mom also believed that Abby could sense extraterrestrial life.

Needless to say, the rest of the family can be a bit skeptical, but we all go along with her because she is just the nicest person in the whole world, if a little bizarre.

But, aside from all of the above, she also tends to say things in public that can be embarrasing for the rest of us. Remember the "bag of coke" incident? So, today at Costco, here's what happened.

The Scene: Walking through Costco looking at socks. I like those really tiny socks that you can't see to wear with my Chuck Taylors and capri pants. What can I say, if you had 35 pairs of Chucks, you would want the perfect complementary socks too! So, we're standing there talking about these little socks, and here's the conversation:

Mom: "Those socks are so tiny. Don't they slip off your feet?"
Me: "No, at least I've never had problems before."
Mom: "Well, your dad saw some in the laundry and he didn't know what they were. He thought they were VIBRATOR COVERS."
Me: "WHAT?"
Mom: "You know, vibrator covers for that neck massager I have in the front room."
Me: "Oh yeah, right. Of course that's what you meant. I mean, what else could you mean? Duh." Nervous laughter.

First, about 10 people heard this exchange and almost all of them had to walk away to laugh. Second, every time I think about it I start giggling and then have to cover it with a fake coughing fit. Third, oh my god, my mom said vibrator in public. At Costco.

All the news that is the news.

Revolting News: This guy can squirt milk out his eye. And if that's not revolting enough, just take a look at the pics. Blech.

Uncontrollable Anger News: Road rage, it's not just for people with guns anymore.

"Oh really, we had no idea" News: Parents name all three kids after perfumes and "insist they did not realise the connection until recently." Um. OK.

Science News: Some guy found, and I quote, "absolutely huge" condoms in Britian dating back to 1900. Claims that they are "just as good as the day that they were made." Uh-huh.

Energy Spatula News: I'm going to Costco with my mom so I can talk her into buying me a year's worth of nonperishable items with which to stock my new apartment. Hooray for a store that lets you buy things "by the pallet."

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Oh Canada.

Move to Canada. Get your free "I heart Crack" kit.

WINNIPEG - The Winnipeg Regional Health Authority has started handing out "safer crack-use kits" to crack cocaine users.

Each kit, which costs less than $2 to put together, contains a straight glass pipe, screens, alcohol swabs, matches, a pipe cleaner, lip balm, chewing gum and condoms.

I'm glad to see they've finally started adding lip balm to these things...I mean, chapped lips are MUCH harder to wrap around that sweet, sweet (and might I add, government supplied) crack pipe.

Screws just fall out all the time, the world is an imperfect place.

MSN is at it again with more hard-hitting relationship related journalism...this time it's "Five Ways to Make Blind Dating Fun."

Dating can be hard. Some people even say it feels like a second job and that each date can feel like a job interview, or a chore, if you’re the one asking all of the questions. It can be tough to keep going out, time and time again, with people you are not attracted to or those who find attractive, but don’t call for a second date. What to do?

Well, I know what I would do, but let's see what MSN has to say.

Readjust your thinking. Instead of viewing your outing as yet another date, make it into an adventure. The night has to be open to possibilities. You’ll be amazed at how changing your thoughts helps to change how you feel about a situation. Give the guy/gal a chance, even if they’re boring. Sometimes, still waters run deep. You just never know. Like an old sweatshirt, at times, you just have to let things grow on you.

In the spirit of adventure and open-mindedness, from now on I will think of blind dates as "humans" rather than "open wallets who I will try to manipulate into buying me drinks for as long as possible before I just can't laugh at another blonde joke or look at their Big Johnson T-shirt for one more millisecond." If they are boring I will keep an open mind. Sometimes an open wallet, I mean a human being with feelings and still waters and shit like that, can grow on you...MSN said it, so it must be true.

Do an external makeover. Go out feeling great about yourself, really attractive, smart and sexy. Buy a new outfit. Get your hair cut. Get your nails done. Trim your beard or shave your legs. Do whatever it takes to make yourself feel attractive from the outside in.

Make sure to look as good as possible for Mr. Hypothetical Blind Date. After all, judging from past experience, he will either be so totally unkempt and uncivilized that I will spend the entire date thinking about how fast I can escape, or he will be so much more attractive than me that he will spend the entire date being obviously disappointed at being stuck with me and then will pretend he's sick or has to take the Alfa for an oil change and run away as fast as possible. (That really did happen to me...the thing with the Alfa...he was a lawyer too. Bastard.)

Also, one must never forget that there is nothing more important than how one looks on the outside...we're not dating to meet someone nice, we're dating to meet someone who's all costs.

Do an internal makeover. Change how you feel from the inside, as well. Remember, if you’re boring, the date will be boring. If you’re fun, the date will be fun. It doesn’t guarantee a connection, but it does mean it won’t be another depressing night.

If you are a drunk, the date will be drunk...I mean fun...I mean, well least someone might get lucky, right? And nothing is less depressing than a drunken one-night stand with someone you have no respect for and can only fervently hope never contacts you again, ever.

Have an exciting, “palatable” experience. Go to restaurants you’ve never tried before. Eat foods you never tried. Drink drinks you never tasted. Indulge in dessert. Those things will give you pleasure and something to talk about with your date.

"Yes, waiter, I would like 15 slices of cheesecake and a pitcher of whatever my date is having, gotta go big, after all, it's on him...right? Do you serve lobster here?" The cheesecake gives me pleasure and I'm sure the pitcher of martinis will give us something to talk least until the passing out part starts. Although, after the fourth or fifth martini, I cannot guarantee that the conversation will be (a) decipherable, (b) fit for polite company, or (c) with Mr. Hypothetical Blind Date, especially if the waiter is cute.

Try an activity you’ve never tried before or haven’t wanted to do alone. Go hiking, skating, or something that’s fun, regardless of the company.

I think what would be fun and adventurous and out of the ordinary would be if my blind date showed up on time, and then he didn't look at me like I was the hugest disappointment of his life, and took me somewhere besides Chili's (WTF is up with dates taking me to Chili's...god, get some class people...there are other generic American chain restaurants out there! Give Bennigans or Ruby Tuesdays a shot for once, will ya?), and if he bought my dinner AND a drink or two, and didn't try to talk me into having sex with him after we leave Chili's when he has done nothing but ignore me and/or talk about himself all night while simultaneously making sure I understand that I'm not nearly good enough for him.

Remember, you only get one life. If part of yours is looking for a mate, try enjoying the process. It’s what life is all about. Then, no matter what, you win!

The process blows. Duh.
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