aloha friday

In Hawaii, Aloha Friday is a day to take it easy and look forward to the weekend. After the week I had, I could use some taking it easy. Today I'm taking it easy on blogging. So, I ask a question - you answer.

Today's question is:

What was your favorite toy when you were a kid?


I had a brown stuffed horse named Silky who went everywhere with me. I still have her. We just have to keep Silky away from the munchkin, who alternates trying to ride her with trying to fling her across the house.

the not so great outdoors

I'm not the hiking, camping, outdoorsey kind of girl. I guess I am my mother's daughter that way...our idea of roughing it is a hotel without room service.

Even though I'd much rather be inside getting a massage in the air conditioning than playing outdoors in the sunshine and fresh air, I spent a summer hiking, camping and cruising around the country.

It was pretty funny watching all of us, who had never been camping before, wrestling with the tents. One guy almost poked his eye out with the tent pole. Someone else managed to put a tent stake through his foot instead of the ground. People who had never cooked a meal in their lives had to learn to pull together a meal outdoors on tiny little camping grills.

We started our trip in Loveland, Colorado - a truly lovely town where there was nothing to do but camp and hike. By the time we reached California and Yosemite National Park, we had all broken in our brand new hiking boots and didn't huff and puff pathetically after 10 minutes. They gave us a thrilling choice that day: we could wake up at 3 AM and make an 11 hour hike up to the top of Half Dome, we could take a 3 hour bike ride around the park or we could take a 6 hour hike up to the waterfalls.

You couldn't pay me enough to do the 11 hour hike. And since I don't know how to ride a bike (okay, stop laughing right now!), that left me with only one option...

A small group of us started out on our hike on what turned out to be the hottest day of the summer. We were an interesting group. Deb tripped over a pebble and sprained her ankle within the first 20 minutes. Suz forgot her canteen, stubbornly refused to drink from anyone else's for fear of germs and fainted. Jo almost got rabies trying to pet a squirrel. Al just wanted to be surrounded by a group of women, got bored because we were hiking not flirting and turned back.

And me?

You guys love me for my modesty, right? So I'll just say it was a good thing I was there. And not just so I could tell you this story because I didn't know what else to write about today...

Three of us were stupid enough to go swimming in the icy water before the falls you see in that picture. My friend got stuck in the current and I managed to yank her out before she went over the falls.

No one should be surprised to hear that I haven't been hiking or camping since that trip...

wordless wednesday 4

road rage revenge

I have terrible road rage. I make no apologies or excuses for it. Not even to the dumbass I almost got into a fist fight with at a stop sign.

If you don't know how to drive, get the hell off my roads. If you want to drive 15 under the speed limit, stay out of the fast lane. If I'm riding your bumper, that is the international signal for get over moron. If you're going to pull out in front of me - even though there are literally no cars behind me - don't cut me off at the breakneck speed of 10. A few drops of rain do not mean that the world is going to come to an end in an all consuming flood - you really can still drive normally in weather.

I constantly have to remind myself that while I'm around my office, I need to keep my cool. One day I was driving back from a meeting, bombing up the exit only lane when some jerk cut over into my lane and slammed on their brakes. The hands went on autopilot - one went to the horn, the other raised to give this idiot the finger. Something held me back though. Good thing, because the "jerk" was my boss, too busy talking on his cell phone to realize that he was about to miss his exit.

A couple weeks later, the internal sensor wasn't working as well. And this time, when the jerkoff pissed me off, I let him have it. I yelled. I cursed him out. I honked. I gave him the finger. I was about as obnoxious as I could possibly be.

And he totally deserved it. But for my lightening quick reflexes, he would have caused an accident with my baby in the backseat.

I was still fuming when I got to my office 5 minutes later where I had to meet with a new prospective client after lunch.

You're smart - you can see where this is going.... It was him! I had to sit through a painfully long consultation, hoping that he couldn't place me. He did. And, obviously, we didn't get the file.

So the next time you're about to scream at the person who pissed you off on the road, just remember you never know when you'll see them again...

indecision

It's been a great week full of amazing eye candy thanks to NeedSleepy. But who deserves the honor of closing out the week as the hottest man? I couldn't decide... So now that's your job. For your well qualified consideration, I offer you the following:

equal opportunity ogling

I'm all for equality. I think there should be an equal ratio of male jock itch to tampon commercials on tv. There should be a good balance of male and female applicants accepted to grad school programs. And there should be more jokes about how men are horrible drivers. I mean, yes, we do drive and put on make up at the same time - but that's far better than the things you get caught doing while driving...

Anyway, it occurred to me that while that almost naked Bon Jovi photo was still sparking some pretty hot fantasies, you men might be trying furiously to remove that pic from your mind. So to help get a new image in your head, I give you a week's worth of women in one post. Fair's fair, right?

Introducing, Miss Monday - Eva Mendes...


Miss Tuesday - Christina Aguilera

Miss Wednesday - Jennifer Aniston

Miss Thursday - Keira Knightley

Miss Friday - Maria Sharapova

Miss Saturday - Scarlett Johansson

Miss Sunday - Jessica Alba

Enjoy boys

uh-oh...one day left

Only one day left of NeedSleey's hot sexy men week. Know what that means? Come Monday, I'll actually have to start writing posts again. But for now, let us just celebrate the hotness that is Jude Law

happy friday

I'm SO glad this week is over!

Spent the afternoon out on Long Island visiting grandpa in the hospital. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate hospitals? If not, I hate them. They scare the hell out of me. And grandpa's roommates (all 3 of them) were REALLY scary. They truly are the reason why I lasted 2 hours as a hospital volunteer. But the good news is that there's actually good news - he's doing much better.

I wasted most of my day at a mediation that went nowhere. Seriously - after 5 hours, we were told that the mediation was over and we had never even heard a number from the other side. I'm not quite sure how that happened. Usually that's the first thing you hear!

I actually caught some munchkin free time with hubby tonight while mom and dad babysat. We saw "He's Just Not that Into You." I thought it was great. There wasn't enough Drew Barrymore in it to make the movie palletable for hubby. Oh well, I suffered through the last movie for him. It was payback time!

My client as insane enough to call and email me during the movie. Does he really think we're going to be able to do anything for him at 8:30 on a friday night? If you really think people are stealing from you, call the cops!

Anyway...we're nearing the end of NeedSleepy's hot sexy men week. I'll be sad for it to end on Sunday. It's been fun digging up these pictures and checking out the ones other people have come up with.

Tonight, I celebrate Jonathan Rhys Meyers. You may recognize him from such movies as "August Rush" and "Bend It Like Beckham." Or the insatiable Henry VIII in "The Tudors" I'm falling asleep at the keyboard, so I'll just say this: love the accent, love the eyes, LOVE those abs...

Happy Friday everyone

thursday's hottie, just under the wire

Thursday's hottie is none other than Bon Jovi. Yeah, I know. With this choice, I show exactly how much of Jersey girl I truly am. But look at him!


Keep looking...

Keep looking....

There! Totally hot...and I'd kind of love to have my own personal serenade - with him wearing nothing but that bandana, of course.

NeedSleepy's got an excellent choice today too - go check him out.

I'd like to thank the academy

And by the academy, I mean Jen over at Because I Could Never Keep Up With a Diary.

This award acknowledges the values that every blogger shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day.

Of course, all these awards come with rules... ("We live by the rules. We die by the rules." Okay...I confess! The Skulls is my guilty pleasure movie)

The rules are:
1) Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person that has granted the award and his or her blog link.
2) Pass the award to another 15 blogs that are worthy of this acknowledgment. Remember to contact each of them to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

For this award, I tag...all my readers who want to claim this award and play along. You all deserve it.

the boys of wednesday

After my wine and my whining from my previous post, I need something to smile about. Definitely check out NeedSleepy's eye candy today. But for now you can also check out my hot man of the day: Ryan Phillippe

now for some words

Despite the name of this blog, I really don't drink or whine that frequently... Tonight, however, I need to indulge. A little red. A little more whine. And a whole lot of chocolate.

My poor grandpa. He came through quadruple bypass surgery like a champ. Seriously, no 83 year old man had any business coming through such major surgery as well as he did.

And then he misunderstood the instructions on one of his meds.

He OD'd. It landed him back in the hospital. Two transfusions and one week in the cardiac ICU and he was released.

Only to land back in the hospital on Monday. He's bleeding from somewhere. They can't find the bleed in order to fix it. He's had 5 transfusions. He hasn't been able to eat, drink or sleep in 4 days.

They may have to do surgery tomorrow and "hope" that while he's open on the table they can find where he's bleeding from.

One minute my phone rings and I get a great report from my uncle, the doctor turned lawyer who's out on Long Island with my grandparents. The next time my phone rings, I get a totally different report, the bad report. I don't know what the hell is going on. I just want him to be okay.

wordless wednesday #3

okay... almost wordless wednesday. HE WISHES!

things that piss me off

I'm in a ripping bad mood right now. All I wanted was to have a nice dinner with hubby and the munchkin. So we go out to dinner and I spend the entire meal trying to eat and keep Andrew entertained.

It pisses me off that most men's rooms don't come equipped with a diaper changing station. What the hell? Do restaurants really think that men don't have babies? That there aren't single fathers? That maybe - just maybe - a man wouldn't want to be nice and actually change the diaper, giving mom her hands free for all of 30 seconds? Maybe no one else believes that such things could be true - but at least give us the freaking option of making the men change the diapers...

So I walk over toward the bathroom carrying Andrew. And splat! The floor was wet and I wiped out. Fortunately, I was able to hold onto Andrew and not send him flying across the restaurant as I fell over, all of my weight crashing down onto my knee. At least 15 people saw me fall. Not one asked me if I was okay, if I needed help getting up and gathering my stuff. (For the record, my knee is still throbbing and I can barely walk.)

I stopped for a cup of coffee on the way home. I hate Starbucks. I hate that they think they can charge $5 for a lousy cup of coffee. Seriously, it's just horrible. You can feel it eating a hole through your stomach with every sip. And you know why they charge astronomical fees for that swill? Because we pay it. We're such suckers.

I got an email two minutes ago from associate general counsel for one of my clients. He expects a phone call back tonight so we can discuss the changes he wants to make to the motion I spent 15 hours researching and another 1o writing. Tonight. He knows I have a baby. Who does he think he is to demand a phone call back during the time I'm trying to put my son to bed? He doesn't pay me enough for him to expect me to be at his beck and call.

Know what else pisses me off? My wine glass is empty. Time to hobble into the kitchen for some more. Here's hoping that tomorrow goes better.

Cheers

it's raining men: the tuesday edition

It's day 2 of NeedSleepy's hot sexy men week. Today, I pay tribute to Johnny Depp.

'Ello Love!

Look at him. Those eyes. Those lips. Mmm... he's just the bad boy I love to love.

it's raining men

It's raining men over at NeedSleepy's blog. An entire week dedicated to the hot, sexy men we fantasize about. I have to say, she's off to a great start!

Pop over to her blog and check out the eye candy. YUMMY! And if you want to play along, all you have to do is post pics of your favorite men...

So to start things off, today we have Exhibit A:

Orlando Bloom. What can I say? I'm a sucker for the accent, a man who knows how to handle his sword and I wish I had this waiting for me in bed...

we say and do the dumbest things

Know what happens when a bunch of lawyers get together? Well, yes, we do a lot of unnecessary talking about law. I meant the other thing.

That's right. We drink. Heavily.

Perhaps it's to drown out all that boring law talk that we never seem to get away from. Or maybe it's simply because we lawyers have more substance abuse problems than most normal people.

Through our ever present booze induced haze, you could have seen the following at our dinner last night:

our president-elect dirty dancing - no, FILTHY dancing - with a chair. (i don't get it...isnt a warm body preferrable?)

people frantically calling the office to cancel their blackberries. The damn things were stolen! (these lost devices were later found...under the chairs of the ones who lost them)

1000 lawyers. 999 black suits. 1000 blackberries permanantly attached to our hands or ears. Boy are we an exciting bunch. The one non-black suit? It was fuck me red. You can't imagine the abuse she got.

You also would have heard these things:

"Love me this mirror. I look so tall. And skinny. WOW! I have the best ass ever!" (it was a great mirror. If only we all looked so hot in real life...seriously though, I have to get one of those mirrors)

"I'm sorry ma'am. You are far too drunk to be buying razors." (oy...it's a bit strange to be buying razors at 7-11 at 3 AM after closing down the bar. But do you really need a suicide waiver to sell the razor?)

"We're not like the rest of you. We have the nepolianic code in Louisiana. no, not the ice cream with 3 flavors, guys!" (yes, we're lawyers...but do you really think we're that stupid?)

"Jersey, Jersey, Jersey. I love everything about New Jersey. I especially love YOU. You are my favorite Jersey thing EVER." (This from the very drunk delegate from Oklahoma. I guess if you're from OK, Jersey would seem pretty great)

"Yes! It's dark on this bus. Let's cuddle!" (The same very drunk OK guy, while throwing his arms and legs around a very embarrased, very straight, male attorney who instantly regretted admitting the seat next to him was available)

It was an experience. And now I am glad it's over.
(I promise, something non-law related tomorrow)

last night

I'm up in Boston at this conference. I dopped Andrew off in the morning and hastily packed a bag. This led me to packing 6 outfits and SEVEN pairs of shoes for a 2 day trip. I don't know what I was thinking. Does anyone really need 2 pairs of black heels and 2 different heights of black boots for one conference?

I made my way up to Boston in just over 3 1/2 hours. Not bad. I missed the drive. I never thought I'd say that. But I actually enjoyed it. The car effortlessly making its way along the highways as if it knew exactly the way to go after 3 years of making this trip between home and law school. Stopping at my favorite "NY deli" in CT. The familiar sights, sounds, smells. As I turned onto the Mass Pike, my grip on the steering wheel relaxed and the tension in my shoulders melted away.

I get to the hotel and, after fighting with the door (I miss keys!), immediately fall into my bed and take a very long, very much needed nap.

When I returned to the room from dinner, I was surprised to find my desk covered in flowers, wine, crackers and cheese and an awesome looking piece of chocolate cake with raspberry sauce. (Before you go thinking that hubby was responsible for this, he wasn't. It was my mom)

So I look around for a cork screw, eager to dig into my treats. It was one of those really cheap plastic things where you basically just have to pull the thing out by brute force. Yeah...

So I tried and tried. I twisted and pulled. I could not get this stupid bottle open. I did manage to cover myself and the desk in cork pieces from my effort. So then I figure it'd be easier to just push the cork into the bottle. All that did was hurt my hand.

Eventually, after 25 minutes of fighting the cork with my hands, corkscrew and a knife, the cork finally gave way with a loud POP.

And then I noticed little red droplets of wine all over the room. On the mirror. On the (white) lamp shade. On the chair. On what used to be my nice white robe. I can't even imagine how I managed that one.

But I poured myself a nice big glass, and settled into bed with my wine and my chocolate cake and a cheesy movie that hubby would never want to watch.

Mmm...

Between that and the first full night of sleep I've gotten in maybe a year, it was a great night.

Silly Hallmark Holiday

Yeah, I know. For someone who doesn't like Valentine's Day, I spend way too much time posting about it. But if you have to celebrate this Hallmark holiday, I offer these simple words of advice:

1. Always, ALWAYS reconfirm your hotel reservations.

*HUGE eye roll* Fortunately, the desk clerk took pity on us and found us the one remaining room in the hotel. A terribly romantic spot on the first floor between the world's noisiest ice maker and the supply closet.

It turned out to be a good weekend, but I just about killed him when I thought we'd have to spend Valentine's Day with my bitchy roommate freshman year. (My favorite lurker, you finally made your way into one of my posts - but I bet it still doesn't prompt a comment)

2. Don't make it obvious that you waited until the day of valentines day to go shopping

Really... don't make your Facebook status "I'm still trying to figure out what to do for Valentine's day." Even if it's true - it's not funny.

OH! And don't TELL HER that you went shopping that morning with every other man in the county, all scratching their heads wandering aimlessly between Godiva and Victoria's Secret. If you're going to admit you waited to the last second to do something, no amount of chocolate or lingerie is going to help your cause.

3. That's a good lead in to point 3. Chocolate.

It's easy, simple, usually a hit. But if you know she's dieting, the biggest box of chocolate you can find will go over like a ton of bricks. Expect this response, "Gee...thanks hon. I'll just add these 5 pounds of truffles directly to my already too large ass."

You should also read this as: You dumbass! Do you really think you're going to get laid now?

4. Why do most men try to pick out lingerie for their women for valentine's day? If you don't know her size, DO NOT try to guess. If you go too small, she'll be pissed because you got her something she can't hope to squeeze in to. Then she'll feel bad because she's not that size. If you go too large, well you're just screwed because you thought she actually wore that size.

Yes, we wear it for you. But try to remember, we're the ones who have to sport the stuff. Try to pick something that actually resembles something we might want to wear...

5. This really should go without saying, but since this one is my biggest complaint this year, it goes on the list: don't one up her with your present.

You know... I have limited time on my hands between work and watching our munchkin. But still, because I'm going to be spending V-Day in the car with another man, I wanted to do something special. I went back on my whole "I will never again try to plan a trip for Valentine's Day" thing. I'm also horrible with surprises, so I told hubby exactly what we were going to do. The date. The location - hotel, restaurant, etc. The arrangements for who is watching Andrew. Everything.

Less than a week later, he announces that on the same date I'd made our plans, he was taking me somewhere completely different, further away from home and more expensive.

No matter how he tries to spin this one, he loses:

"I'm sorry...I totally forgot." = Your plans were so bad they weren't worth remembering

"No, no. I love what you planned. Let's do it" = No, no. I really like MY plans better.

"You're so thoughtful" = MORE thought next time girlie! Something I want to do maybe?

*sigh*

Happy effing Valentines Day.

wordless wednesday #2

Walk the Line

Home and work. Personal and professional. A very thin line between the two.

The balance is so hard. Some days it's just impossible.

My stupid watch was running 15 minutes slow this evening. I didn't realize it until after I left my meeting, thinking I still had plenty of time to head across town to daycare before it closed. But when I looked down at my phone as I grabbed my purse, it was already closing time and I was still 10 minutes away. I raced over to daycare, feeling tremendous guilt, hoping Andrew wasn't the last one there. He was hysterical when I arrived. He started bawling when Tristan left, leaving him as the last little guy in the room. It just about broke my heart.

24 hours in a day. I spend 11 of them at work, usually more at night after I get home. I maybe get to spend 4 hours a day with Andrew while he's awake during the week. Four short hours.

I head up to Boston on Thursday for a conference. It's the right thing to do professionally. Politically, if I want to secure a leadership position in the organization when they make their appointments later this month, I have to go. Good for the career...blah blah blah

But I can't help but feeling so guilty. I'll be leaving my little guy for the better part of 3 days. I'll be missing out on all that time with him. And I have to wonder - is it really worth it?

Days like today, weeks like this, it's just too hard trying to walk that line.

you've been served

Being a lawyer isn't all "Law and Order" type excitement. Most days, it's really quite mundane. Hour after hour pouring over stacks of cases trying to find the one that will actually help your client's position. Sitting around forever in court waiting for your case to be called, only to learn that the judge doesn't want to hear any argument - he already made up his mind and just called you in to read his decision to you.

As more and more people get added to the letterhead below you, you can pass off some of the more horrible assignments. But until you get a few associates under you who aren't related to the managing partner, the truly choice assignments are all yours.

Like process serving.

I really can't think of a worse task. Yes, it's necessary. But this is one of the things I'd just rather pay someone to do for me...

First and foremost, it's dangerous. No one likes to be served. There's a reason most process servers carry a gun... Hubby had to serve someone in jail last year. She was in for murder. Hubby tried to laugh off my paranoia, and his own, by saying "I'm totally safe. She's only violent toward her husband. He's dead now. No worries!"

Second, I have NO sense of direction. Seriously. I don't know how I got around before GPS. But sometimes it's not my fault. I had to serve someone who lived on a street that didn't exist on any map or any street sign. Apparently the residents didn't take kindly to my car with its out of state plates slowly cruising their neighborhood, staring at every house...for 45 minutes. Eventually, a very nice police officer directed me to the right house after questioning me EXTENSIVELY about what business I had there and calling my boss to verify that I was who I said I was.

But serving people can also just be completely creepy.

I had to serve a tenant we were trying to evict because they were so dirty, it created a health and safety violation. I made the mistake of volunteering for the assignment so I could leave early for the day. I drove up to the house, a little place in the woods near the lake.

I should have run in the other direction upon seeing the formerly white bathtub in the front yard full of broken beer bottles.

Undeterred, I made my way up the front walk, stepping over a curiously large number of dolls. Barbies. All missing body parts.

I reached the front door and rang the bell. No answer. I rang again. Still no response.

I peeked in the window, no easy feat since it was covered in dirt 3 inches thick. The interior of the house looked like a tornado went through it. There were dirty dishes piled up all over the kitchen. The stench of rotting garbage coming from the house was overwhelming.

I was glad I didn't need to meet the lovely folks who resided in this dump. They allowed service by affixing the complaint to the house. I reached into my purse and pulled out a box of thumb tacks.

I looked at the door, trying to find the best place to post my notice. I thought I was losing it because the door appeared to be moving.

Yeah...it wasn't the door, but the thousands of spiders that literally covered every square inch of the house. I jumped back so far and so fast that I toppled off the porch into the bushes. I screamed bloody murder as the biggest spider I've ever seen scuttled across my bare leg.

After brushing myself off furiously, I again approached the house. I held the summons out to the house and watched as it was swarmed by daddy longlegs. Spiders were trying to crawl up my hands and arms. I literally had to wait for a break in the swarm so I could throw a tack into the page and afix the stupid thing to the house.

Success! Forget the second tack - I was out of there.

I leaped from the porch, flicking spiders off my arms and legs as I sprinted for the car. My hands were shaking so hard I couldn't even dial the phone to tell my office they had been served. I rushed home, eager to strip off my clothes in case any stray spiders had lingered and take the hottest shower my skin could tolerate.

And that is why I will never again serve anyone...and why I have a total fear of spiders

Show and Tell #2

This is the second week of Jen's Show and Tell Saturday. She (along with everyone else probably) is having a bit of spring fever... This weekend's show and tell is about your best/worst/most memorable vacation.

In case you couldn't tell, this is a picture of the Panama Canal. I'm not sure why Panama has become something of a vacation destination, but it holds ZERO interest for me. Actually, less than zero interest if that's possible.

For Christmas every year, instead of buying each other gifts that no one wanted in the first place, my inlaws decided that we would all take a trip together. That makes presents very easy for me and hubby - we just take everyone out for a really nice meal where ever we end up.

Two years ago, hubby's mom got the brilliant idea to take everyone to Panama. For a brief time, their family was stationed there. My brother-in-law was born there. And they wanted to cruise the old base, look at monkeys and do some kind of zip line through the rain forest. It would be SO MUCH FUN.

Or so they said...

I had no desire to go.

Around the same time we were discussing the beautiful, scenic locale of Panama for our December vacation, we were also trying to get pregnant. And so I made hubby a deal. I would agree to go to Panama and put on a happy, smiley face. But if I was even one day pregnant, there was no way I would go - and neither would he.

We shook on it. And lo and behold, I got pregnant and the baby was due in December. The family joke is that I got pregnant just to avoid going to Panama. While that's not true, it certainly was a nice side effect.

I spent my "vacation" that year in Red Bank at the hospital after giving birth to the most wonderful baby ever on Christmas Eve. Christmas morning, they brought Andrew out to me in a red stocking, with a candy cane striped hat on his head.

Best Christmas present and best vacation I've ever had. (As long as you don't count the hospital food)

you know you're in trouble when...

I was just ordered to haul my butt up to Union County tomorrow morning to appear in opposition to a motion that I:

#1 - did not oppose

#2 - will not be paid for

#3 - have no client to represent

So you know what this means?

I'm going to get my head handed to me tomorrow. I joke all the time that my standing orders in this case are to avoid being arrested. There's a decent shot I'll get held in contempt tomorrow and spend a few hours in the county jail.

Wish me luck! I'm going to need it!

wordless wednesday

hearts, flowers and other nonsense

I've never been a fan of valentine's day. No, it's not because I spent too many valentines days alone. Even when I was with someone, I still hated it.

I wouldn't let my mom wish me a happy valentines day. I renamed the day, a brand new holiday named (of course) after its creator - Jaime Day. (I was a terribly creative 6th grader, wasn't I? But it kind of stuck and my mom gave me a happy jaime day card every year through college) If you were celebrating Jaime day, you wore green and black because it's as far away from red and pink as you can get. Celebrations of love and hearts and all that mushy stuff were reserved for any other day of the year.

Maybe I don't like valentines day because whenever I try to do something special, it doesn't work out quite right.

Like the first v-day hubby and I spent together...

We were going to head into Boston. I had reservations at a great little italian restaurant. We had tickets for something he wanted to see, although I'll be damned if I can remember what at this point. Everything was all set. Until that morning where he came down with a nasty bug and spent the entire day praying to the poreclain gods.

Fun, huh?

Or our second v-day together. We were going to make up for the fact that the prior year was such a bust. I found this b&b up in the white mountains, got us this two-floor suite with a hot tub and fire place. Very nice? Very romantic?

Maybe for the other couples staying there...

That year I also had the brilliant idea of talking the school into participating in the criminal law moot court competition. The school teamed me and hubby up to compete together. And those evil bastards that run the competition set the brief due date as February 15. Although we had been frantically researching and writing this thing for over a month, we pulled allnighters every night that week.

The sun was starting to set on v-day and we still weren't done. We were on - no joke - draft 15 of the brief. So instead of packing light and heading up north with the brief and competition behind us, we loaded the car with our laptops, a printer, print outs of hundreds of cases, 5 legal pads full of notes and 3 packs of computer paper.

We check into our beautiful room and cancel our dinner reservations. Looking longingly at the hot tub in the corner, we hunker down for our 6th straight night of nonstop work on that stupid brief. And a mere 13 hours later, as the clock struck 5, we were done.

The room looked like a cyclone hit it. Papers were strewn everywhere. There was not one square inch of floor that wasn't covered. If you've ever seen "The Paper Chase" our room looked exactly like theirs did at the end of a week cramming for final exams.

We stumbled up the winding staircase to our bed and pass out instantly, fully dressed and too tired to care. Later that morning, we tried to mail the brief from the post office up in Ashland only to learn that the little dinky towns up there don't staff their post offices over the weekend. We had to race almost 2 hours back down to Concord to mail the thing before the post office closed at noon. We made it just before they locked the doors.

Nice way to spend what is supposedly the most romantic day of the year, right?

Show and Tell

Jen is trying to get her own weekend MeMe started. She calls it show and tell. And since this is different from the "25 things about me" one plaguing Facebook at the moment, I thought I'd play along.

This week her topic is "favorite sports memory." I have lots of them so it's hard to narrow it down to just one.

Since it's Super Bowl Sunday, I suppose I should say something about football. The truth is, I've never been a fan. I'm a baseball girl. But for a very brief period of time, I dated the captain of the football team in high school. This story doubles as a football memory and my worst date ever... I got all dressed up and looked totally cute in my little skirt. Went to his place to pick him up. We were supposed to grab dinner and a movie. (don't pick on me for the picking him up thing - he lived around the corner from the movie theater and my house was across town. plus his car was a piece of crap and always in the shop).

He was very intently watching football when I showed up. Then I realized he was watching HIMSELF play football. It was the replay of the prior week's game. And we had to stay and watch. I think he actually thought I'd be impressed by his running commentary about the game and, of course, his "skills."

By the time the game was over, it was too late for a movie and I was starving. Starving Jaime = cranky Jaime. Not a pretty thing. If you're going to subject me this nonsense, the least you can do is feed me. Let's just say that was our last date. Captain of the football team or not, I can't stand people who are that into themselves.

But for a real favorite sports memory...

I grew up at Yankee Stadium. Sundays and Yankees - it was my family's tradition. We'd trek into the Bronx, me, my dad, my uncle and when she got older, my sister. I've been going to games since I was 5.

I could tell tons of stories about the players I've met, games I've been to and stuff I've seen there. I hate that they're tearing down the old stadium. Even more than that, I hate that I'll never be able to take Andrew to a game there. There's just something magical about the place and it's history that makes everyone stop and stare when they see it for the first time. The big stadium across the street with all its stupid luxury boxes won't be the same.

But that's not the point.

During the 80s, the Yankees were terrible. Actually, terrible doesn't even begin to describe it. The team couldn't buy a win. And even if they actually made the game a little interesting - bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, 2 outs, the best hitter up at bat - you could hear crickets chirp. No one came out to the games back then. They'd announce attendance at 25,000 but, judging from all the empty seats and the eerie quiet, the real attendance was far below that.

I can't remember what prompted my dad and uncle's utter hatred for Steinbrenner. What I do remember is the Saturday that we all sat around the kitchen table decorating brown paper shopping bags which they said we would be wearing over our heads at the next game. Each bag had a picture of George on the back. Under the picture were the words "The Baron of Baseball Buffoonery."

We wore those bags for the entire season. We were far more entertaining than the actual game. People would come around and take pictures of us. Fans cheered our protest far louder than they cheered on the team.

In the Ledger's final tribute to the stadium, they actually mentioned us. And now you know the true identity of the fans who wore bags over their heads and led the stadium in anti-Steinbrenner chants.