it's good to have a goal...

Prompt: #5 - Today I will...

Check out this week's other participants here.

Today I will...

Sleep in as my wonderful son will not only master the art of sleeping through the night, but also sleeping past 5 am.

Arrive at the office on time.

Be greeted with a steaming cup of coffee and muffin on my desk.

Get through the day without the equivelant of 2 pots of coffee.

Not worry that Andrew is going to get injured on the playground yet again this week.

Receive an email from hubby just because he was thinking about me and wanted me to know he loves me.

Not scream as I'm asked to rewrite a perfectly good brief we've already submitted in 5 other cases.

Not freak out over the mountain of work I have to do tomorrow.

Not feel any pain in my shoulder.

Pick up the munchkin, who runs over to me with open arms to give me a hug while screaming "MAMA" at the top of his lungs.

Arrive home, to hubby already being there, with dinner waiting on the table for me.

Write a post that actually formats properly when pictures are involved.

End a perfect day with ice cream...or a glass of wine...or both :)

*SIGH*

YEAH, RIGHT!

It's good to have a goal though.

water

It was a beautiful day. The first real warm and sunny day of spring. Then without warning, the storm clouds rolled in. The sky became dark and threatening. And finally with a loud crack of thunder, the sky opened up and rain pounded the windows angrily.

I still can't figure out how such a wonderful day disintegrated so quickly. Or how the weather outside so closely mirrored the mood in our room. I ponder this as I lay in bed, staring out the window, my vision obscured by the teeming rain and my own tears.

The silence was palpable and distance between our rigid bodies seemingly insurmountable. The swords had temporarily been put away but the damage was done. There were no more words anyway.

We were fundamentally and diametrically opposed in our views. No amount of talking, crying, screaming or threatening would change that.

I reach out, brushing the tears from my cheek and wonder if this time we finally hit a bump no amount of love, stubbornness and determination can overcome.

I stare out at the rain, searching for answers, finding none.

Check out the other Theme Thursday participants here.

Oops, I did it again.

Come clean - how many of you were singing Britney Spears after seeing the title of this post? Confess! I know I'm not the only one!

Hold on. I know I had a real point here somewhere.

You may remember the post where I talked about the stupid things lawyers say and do. Well, this week I should win the award for saying the stupidest things. It's only Wednesday. I'm afraid of what might come out of my mouth next...

Exhibit A: I was taking a deposition on Monday. The homeowner claimed that someone vandalized his sewer lateral line. How did he discover the damage? There was backup into the sink and shower. What did he do to investigate? He went outside with a flashlight and shone the light down into the sewer and he saw this big stick. Here's my shining moment of deposition brilliance:

Me: So describe it for me. How big was this stick of yours?
Him: (jaw drops a little and stares at me incredulously) Um...
Me: (light bulb goes on over my head as I realize what I said) Mr. X get your mind out of the gutter!
Him: I can't help it! This whole case is about a gutter!

*sigh* That'll make for a great transcript.

Exhibit B: I went to lunch with two other attorneys from my office at the local sushi restaurant. Andi walked back into the office carrying her chopsticks. (To completely understand this story, you have to know that Andi is black)

Me: Seriously? What the hell are you doing with those?
Her: Well, I had such a good time at lunch, I wanted a memento.
Me: You need to get out more, dear.
Her: WHAT? I needed a toy?
Me: Oh, hon. That's your toy? We need to get you something a bit better for your little black box.
Her: My...little...black...box...
Me: OH SHIT! I meant your little black box! Not your little black box! I'm going to go hide in my office now and forget this conversation ever happened.

I really did mean the box of toys that we all keep under our beds. Oh, come on. You have one too. Um...Don't you?

And finally, Exhibit C:

At lunch, Andi comes out of nowhere with "Oh! Did you hear about this new thing that people are doing..."
Me: Yup. It's called sexting. And I don't think it's all that new.
Jen: WHAT is that?
Andi: These kids are taking naked pics of themselves and texting them to people.
Me: And they're getting caught with the images on their phone and being arrested for distribution or possession of kiddie porn.
(Woman at the next table over stares at me bug eyed and starts whispering about the fact that I said "kiddie porn" in public. Has this become a new taboo phrase? It's not like I yelled it or anything)
Jen: How do you know all this?
Me: It's been on the news. Do you not watch tv?
Andi: I would NEVER! There's never going to be any proof that this body was naked.
Me: Well, if the urge ever strikes, you could always just not include your face in the image. That's not really the point of the pics anyway.
Jen: Wait a minute!
Andi: Exactly how many of these pictures of you are there floating around out there.

Okay...so I really walked right into that one. It's one of those weeks where I just can't say anything right. I'm afraid of what I might say next.

(almost) wordless wednesday #13

Despite the fact that I have to get dressed up every day, I would be happy if I could wear jeans all day every day. And maybe that's why I just don't understand "fashion." Would you wear any of these LOVELY ensembles?

random tuesday thoughts #7

It's so hot that just stepping out of my car, I feel my curls frizz and my flesh bake. It's a balmy 102 degrees (assuming the temperature gauge on my car is working right). Although I'm practically melting, I love it! There (almost) no better feeling than closing my eyes and feeling the hot sunshine on my skin.

I wanted to take this opportunity to introduce you guys to a very simple concept...it's called the brake pedal. It's that little thing in your car next to the gas pedal. I mention this because it seems some of you have never been properly introduced. We use this mysterious device to slow down the car or bring the vehicle to a full stop...like when my car is in front of yours and I'm not moving. If you can't learn to differentiate between the gas and brake, get off the road! You don't deserve the privilege of driving.

Yesterday's deposition was painful. It took me longer to drive down to South Jersey than it did to actually ask the questions. I subscribe to the "don't prolong the agony" deposition approach. I'm not going to sit there and ask nonsensical questions for hours just to waste the other side's time. When I have nothing left to ask, I end the dep. I don't understand attorneys who insist on asking questions just for the sake of churning the file...

I'm watching "The Wrestler" right now. I don't see what all the hype was about.. It's not that good. And I have a really hard time buying Marisa Tomei as a pole dancing stripper. I really should just turn this movie off, but I'm the type who sits and suffers through really bad movies because I paid for the price of admission. I've only ever walked out of two...French Kiss (which was utterly horrible) and Closer. Maybe I would have stayed to the end of Closer had I not been there with my mother... But it was just completely embarrassing watching that movie with her.

It's amazing how resourceful my son is. He had the misfortune of coming with me into my office on Sunday. I promised him I'd be quick (especially since there was no air conditioning over the weekend) and gave him 2 little cookies. He intently watched me put the lid back on the box and place the box back on the table. The next thing I know, I hear a little thump and Andrew's cruising over to me carrying the box, smiling triumphantly. He puts the box on the ground at my feet and signs "more" and "please." How could I refuse him after that? I still have NO idea how he got up on that table. It was really high!

I've been ordered to take my son to Sears so there can be professional photos of him for mother's day. I'm running out of time. Better get him there soon.

We took Andrew to the safari at Great Adventure over the weekend. He didn't know what to make of the animals at first, particularly the giraffes. But he warmed up after a few minutes and pointed excitedly to every animal, calling each one a dog. I don't know - I suppose a bear could look like a dog...

For more random thoughts, visit The UnMom.

it ain't all law and order

The law isn't always exciting. Sometimes it's down right boring. Personal injury attorneys think a real "sexy" case involves complex insurance coverage issues. Construction litigators get all hopped up over the "excitment" of injecting consumer fraud claims into the case so there's the threat of triple damages and attorneys' fees.

Some days I get asked just to babysit a document review. That's literally sitting in a room watching other people review documents. Part of the job is to make sure they don't steal them. (Yes, that really happens) And the rest of that task is to keep your ears open for whether the other side is stupid enough to let loose with a juicy bit of informtion in your presence. (Sometimes it happens. Usually this is just a waste of time) Good billables. Really boring. Mindless. But if you drink enough coffee, maybe you can stay awake long enough to hear that one worthwhile tidbit of information.

Law & Order, Boston Legal, First Monday...all those shows...they all make law seem so exciting.

Tomorrow I'm going to be taking a deposition. In Marlton. Where the heck is that??? I don't spend a lot of time in south Jersey and I don't really want to start tomorrow! (If I'm going to be that close to Atlantic City, I should be in AC gambling! Not in some bumblefuck place called Marlton working)

I'm going to be deposing the plaintiff in a property damage case. He claims that my client broke his lateral line by flushing out the sewer main with high pressure water, causing sewage to back up into his house. (By the way, if any of you actually understand what I just said, give me a call. Because I still don't understand how a lateral line could just "break off.")

The only interesting twist in this case is that the guy claims a "vandal" stuck a stick into his lateral line days before this incident and we think he attempted to perform work on his own sewer line.

Sexy enough for you?

Zombie Chickens

Got your attention, didn't I? I mean, you see the title and how could you not wonder what kind of post comes with the subject "Zombie Chickens"?

Well, Otin presented me with the Zombie Chicken Award. The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken - excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all..."

I'd hate to incur the wrath of a Zombie Chicken...So I now pass this award on to:

Diaries of the Professor

My Expressions Live

The UnMom
Tiaras & Tantrums
Forever a Jersey Girl

Thanks again Otin!

boogie nights

Has the weekend officially started for you? If it has, I'm totally jealous because I still have another 2 hours of work ahead of me and a ton of work this weekend... But I need a break from the billable hours, so it's time to participate in Ann's virtual girls night out.

Grab a cocktail and head over to her blog to play along... In keeping with the disco theme, this week's party game is a disco fill in the blanks:

After a long week working as an assistant trainer at the Jane Fonda Exercise Studio I was ready for a night out. I went to my closet, put on my hot pants and headed out the door. I stopped to pick-up my friend Bob Mackie and we headed to Studio 54. This place was packed! I had just about sweated my lip gloss off when they turned on the lights and told us it was time to boogie home. Another great night. Can you dig it? :->

(Okay, so I would have preferred "leather pants," "Kellan Lutz" and "ass" as the real fill-in answers, but those weren't one of the options... And if I worked as a trainer at the Jane Fonda studio, I'd be able to FIT into my leather pants... *sigh*)

Have a great weekend!

Aloha Friday #9

In Hawaii, Aloha Friday is a day to take it easy and look forward to the weekend. So today I'm taking it easy on blogging. I ask a question - you answer.

This week's question is: What is your favorite tv show that is no longer on the air?

Every time I really start to like a show, they cancel it. One of my favorite shows was "First Monday" (If you're not familiar it was a legal drama about the Supreme Court) None of you are surprised that my answer was a law-related show, I'm sure.

fire

My little secret...It was over, but no one knew it. I had ended things with my fiance. I still wore his ring so no one would suspect. I just couldn't deal with the questions yet.

Then one night I had plans to go out with some friends. I started to slide the ring onto my finger, but it seemingly weighed a ton. I could not bring myself to put it on. Knowing how oblivious this group would be to such minor details, I returned the ring to its box.

We started at a bar downtown, quickly pounding a couple drinks to celebrate the end of the week before retreating to Szechuan Garden. It was the local Chinese restaurant with shockingly good food for Concord, and also featured karaoke on Friday nights. They tried to rope me into it, but it would take far more alcohol to get me up on that stage.

That's when we started drinking scorpion bowls. Despite being more than a little tipsy, there was no dragging me up to the microphone. Instead, I hung back and watched Brian and Jeff struggle through the world's worst rendition of "Rodeo."

It didn't take long to run out of money. We were all poor law students living off our loans. Without anymore money, it was time to stumble across the highway to Jeff's house. He had a huge backyard and a fire pit. In our heavily boozed state, we thought it would be a brilliant idea to start a bonfire.

I let the boys run around trying to get it started while I hung back nursing another beer. I don't know how long I stood staring at the flames, but suddenly Jeff appeared next to me. In a low voice he drawled, "I couldn't help but notice you're not wearing your ring."

My jaw literally dropped. "You're head over heels for him." It was a statement, not a question. My jaw dropped a little further.

I looked up at Jeff with tears glistening in my eyes. For someone who never struck me as particularly observant, he had me completely pegged. I returned my gaze to the flickering flames and whispered, "I'm scared."

His hand found mine and gave it a quick squeeze. "Jaime, you have to give it a shot. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. But at least you won't spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened."

I nodded slowly, afraid to meet his eyes again, knowing that the tears would start streaming down my face if I looked away from the fire. He knew me well enough to walk away and leave me to my thoughts.

I could have been staring at the flames for minutes or hours. For however long it was, I was completely lost in my very fuzzy thoughts. Later that night, it all became clear.

That was the night hubby and I got together.

Check out this week's other Theme Thursday participants here.

Never forget

Did you ever watch the movie "The Girl Next Door"? The movie starts (and ends) with people filling out their senior yearbook captions. They all begin "I'll never forget..." And that movie is all I can think of as I try to write this post.

So, if I were rewriting my caption (which I seriously wish I could go back and do) here are a few of my high school "I'll never forget" moments...

"I'll never forget...the 4 musketeers." I spent a summer at Penn State taking classes and meeting the most incredible people. A group of 4 of us were inseparable. They dubbed us the 4 musketeers. I still talk to them. D'Artagnon is my son's unofficial aunt. :) We also rebelled against their July 4th color wars and defected from the red, white and blue teams to create our own. We went to a thrift store and bought the most hideous shirts, becoming the first ever team chartreuse.

"I'll never forget...practice makes perfect." Gardenia was a little loopy one day in biology. In the middle of a particularly fascinating lecture about dominant and recessive genes, she whips out a Cosmo and begins animatedly reading an article about how to give killer blow jobs. She ends her dramatic reading with "Remember ladies, practice makes perfect." I couldn't help it - I reached over and placed a straw on her desk. (One of the tips was to practice with your straw whenever drinking.) For years, we took turns presenting each other with straws in the most ridiculous ways possible. I think I won the fight though - she got the last straw presented to her inside her wedding card.

"I'll never forget...cheerleader appreciation day." No, I wasn't a cheerleader. I was the field hockey and softball type of girl. But for some reason, the school thought we needed to have the cheerleaders at our games when the football team wasn't playing. We hated it. They hated it. They certainly didn't understand the sport, so we had cheerleader "appreciation" day where we got to school them in field hockey. HA! It was hysterical watching those girls trying to run around the field wielding a stick. The only sweating they usually did was in the backseat of a car...

"I'll never forget...lookout point." My roommate and I skipped out of State College, pretending to be with her mom, to meet some guys in Harrisburg. We ended up at Lookout Point, which is exactly as it sounds and could more appropriately be dubbed "make out point." Without going into a whole lot of detail, my knees have never been the same. Oh, you want more detail? I bruised the hell out of one slamming it into the steering wheel. And the other...I think I still have some gravel permanently embedded in there. (Feel free to draw your own conclusions on this one.)

"I'll never forget...the face that launched a thousand ships." English class freshman year. My prof was obsessed with Helen of Troy (and Sophia Loren). We had to memorize part of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. I still remember the whole thing. "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships and burned the topless towers of Ilium. Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul. See where it flies?" (I'll spare you the rest. But I really do remember every word to that entire scene)

"I'll never forget...Paris." This was back when I was fluent in French. I went to Paris over spring break with the majority of my French class. It was an interesting trip. The highlights? The locals couldn't tell that I was an American because my French used to be that good...I got knocked to the ground by a priest at Notre Dame...Had a very emotional visit to the huge WWII cemetary in Normandy...Took an incredible boat ride down the Siene in the snow...And spent an incredibly awkward night in bed with this random guy and two other girls.

Oh the memories...

Check out this week's other Writers Workshop participants over at Mama Kat's.

wordless wednesday #12

Frustrated in Flushing

I wrote this on Sunday from my treo at various points during the day. And for once, I'm not censoring myself. Since it reads pretty random, I decided to use it today for my Random Tuesday Thoughts. For more randomness, visit The UnMom.

I hate riding the subway around New York by myself. I don't know why. I rode the Metro around DC for 4 years...The T around Boston for 3 years...I even navigated London's underground. I just HATE the subway...

I only do this for Alex. If Ric holds the place in my heart as my "what if," Alex ranks right up there as someone I'll always wonder about. Granted, it never would have worked between us. We had our shot and blew it. He was shy and I had yet to recognize that totally brazen side of myself... I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had just taken what I wanted that day. I'm wondering that now as I make the trip into New York, imagining the feel of his soft lips against mine. I can't keep the thoughts out of my head, and for that, I blame the trashy romance novel in my lap, rather than our brief bit of history together.

So here I am headed out to Shea - oops! I mean Citi? Utopia? Bailout Field? whatever you call the place. I followed the Mets jerseys through Penn Station so I didn't get lost along the way. That's the last thing I need. To get lost somewhere in NY on the freaking subway and have to make a frantic call to Alex to come rescue me.

I love baseball. It's a beautiful day for a game. I still can't believe he's taking a Yankee fan to his first game at Citi. He should have his season tix revoked for this one.

I wonder if Ric will be there too. I miss him. His intense eyes. The cocky grin reserved just for me. The absolutely amazing way he would... oh this is bad. okay. I need to think about something else. NOW.

Flushing? Seriously, why would you put a baseball team in a town called Flushing? Did they not consider all the freaking jokes that would result just from the location of the team? I mean, it's like parents who don't consider the implications of naming their child "Crystal Ware."

Why is it 10 degrees colder outside this freaking stadium than anywhere else in the entire tri-state area?!?! It was supposed to be warm today. And now I'm faced with either freezing to death or (shudder) buy a damn Mets sweatshirt for 100 bucks. I'd rather freeze!

Ooh...this is going to kill me. Someone needs to volunteer to keep me warm.

The game was okay. The Mets lost (haha) but I couldn't cheer too loudly against them. They threatened to throw me overboard if I rooted too much for the Brewers. Since I was literally in the last row of the upper deck, I decided to take this threat seriously.

Things were weird though. I can't describe it any other way. Because he's on again with his gf? Because the last time we were together he perceived us getting too close to crossing some imaginary line? I don't know. But for the first time, it was awkward and we were awkward together. First and foremost, regardless of any other feelings that may have existed at one time, Alex has always been a friend. One who has always greeted me warmly with a kiss and felt totally at ease with his hand in mine or his arm draped casually around my shoulders. Every time we see each other. For over 10 years. Except today.

I didn't lost on the subway. A major accomplishment given my lack of any sense of direction. I am a little concerned about the guy facing me. he's passed out and looking like he's going to flop over on me. Or puke. I will NOT be happy if either happens

So the mets lost and the yanks won...finally...Not a bad day at the ballpark.

the house that george built...

This is new monstrosity in the Bronx. New Yankee Stadium. The house that George Steinbrenner built.

Every year, for as long as I can remember, I've looked forward to opening day. It's tradition. My dad, my uncle and I always go. No matter what else we have going on. We bail on work, school, meetings, anything and everything. This is our time together. And I love it.

We got to Yankee Stadium on Thursday for opening day feeling the usual sense of excitement and promise every new season brings.

Some people curse the Mets for blowing up Shea so quickly and turning it into a parking lot. I wish they'd done that with old Yankee Stadium. It's bad enough that they've built this new stadium and they're knocking the old one down. Let's just get it over with. I don't want to watch it being torn down bit by bit. That's way too depressing.

I miss my old seats. Not just because they were good. I miss the familiar faces that came with sitting in the same section for 25 years. The same families, the same noises, the same silly vendors. I could find my way around the stadium blindfolded. It was my second home.

This new place? It's got more freaking neon than Vegas. And that tv? It's ridiculous! Did we really need a screen that you can see from outer space?

I'll admit that the Great Hall was pretty cool with its pictures of the old and new great Yankees. The museum has autographed balls from every starting Yankee who has ever played. It has some great memorabilia. And the Delta suite - a totally unnecessary extravagance, but very nice if you have a craving for a $20 martini and a $14 california roll.

But I couldn't find anything, including my seats. They ran out of programs by 11. (The game didn't even start til 1:05) There was a line wrapped around the stadium to get into the store. It now costs NINE DOLLARS for a bottle of beer. A crappy bottle of beer at that. Don't get me started on the hot dogs. It should not cost that much money for a hot dog so small you can consume it in less than a minute and 3 bites.

I couldn't help but feeling that there was just something off about the place.

That feeling was confirmed when the game started. The bleachers didn't do their usual role call. The crowd was dead...even when the game was close. It was like being at games in the late 80s when the team utterly sucked and no one came out to the games.

It didn't help that Sabathia is the slowest pitcher in the game. I swear the guy took 5 minutes between each pitch. For the way he stretched out each inning, you'd think we were paying him by the hour. And, yes, we got lit up late in the game. The bullpen sucks. You'd think we could have bought a better pitching staff. It's really sad when your players in the field pitch better than your entire bullpen. (As a random side note, WHEN are the Yanks going to put Jobba back in the bullpen where he belongs?)

I hate to say this because I've loved every second of every game I got to spend at the Stadium. But it's not the same. It's going to take a long time to get used to this place. I'm still not sure that I'll ever like it.

Spreading the Love

I've been slacking again. I actually wrote all my posts for the week over the weekend. Between work and hubby being away, I've barely had time for anything...including sleep. But now I have two awards to post instead of one.

Fideting Gidget gave me this award. Isn't it pretty? :)

As you know by now, all awards come with rules. So here's my version of the rules for this award:

Identify the wonderful blogger who gave you this award and link back their blog. (Okay, easy enough)

Tell the world why you blog. (hmm...this one is harder. "I blog because I can"? Well, that's close. I love writing. But I got busy with work and stopped doing it for a long time. I missed it. And after a few months of stalking Brad's blog, I thought I'd start my own. I'm so glad to be writing again. And, of course, I love the people that I've met along the way)

And now for the tagging. I pass this award along to:

Auntie
K
Green Jello
The Mama

NeedSleepy gave me this award:
"The Friendship Award is given to blogs that are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to those bloggers who must choose at least 5 more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

I pass this award on to:

Ms. Salti
Just Jen
Otin
Captain Dumbass


Check out their blogs if you don't know them already- they're my favorite distractions while I'm working.

This Would Only Happen to Me

If not for bad luck, I would have no luck at all. Need proof? Let me present you with Exhibit A:


This is a door...

This is a door knob...

It's very simple. You turn the door knob and the door opens. Even my son can figure this one out at 15 months...

Except that's not how it worked this morning. This morning, I spent the better part of an hour locked INSIDE my room!

I closed the door behind me so I wouldn't have to chase Andrew all over the house while I was trying to get ready for the gym. Once I'm dressed and read to go, I turn the knob and nothing happens. I turn it in the other direction. Nothing. I bang on the door. Then I call hubby over. He tries the door. Nothing.

I have always cursed him for keeping his stupid tool box in the bedroom. Today I was actually happy for it. The idiots who had the house before us put the door knob on so that the screws were on the outside of the door, so we couldn't just unscrew the look. Hubby attempts to take the door off the hinges, but layer upon layer of paint prevents us from being able to lift off the door.

So finally he takes out a wallpaper scraper and a hammer and, after lots of very loud banging, he breaks the lock off the door. We were able to escape from the room after exactly 47 minutes of trying to open a freaking door.

I've told this story to 4 people so far today and each one of them has asked if I'm serious. Of course I'm serious. Even I couldn't make a story like this up

aloha friday #8

In Hawaii, Aloha Friday is a day to take it easy and look forward to the weekend. So today I'm taking it easy on blogging. I ask a question - you answer.

Know any good jokes?

I have a department meeting next week and we've all been instructed to come prepared with a joke. I didn't think this was a serious requirement - but it is. "We're so serious all the time. We more jokes in our lives," my boss told me.

And now I need a good joke. Help!

Mother Earth?

If you don't recognize this image, you haven't spent much time in New England. Let me introduce you to The Old Man of the Mountain.

The Old Man was a naturally occurring rock formation on Cannan Mountain in New Hampshire's White Mountains. When viewed at the right angle, the rocks formed the profile of a face. Since 1945, The Old Man was the state emblem of New Hampshire.

In the middle of the night on May 3, 2003, the rocky profile slid off the side of the mountain, crashing into the rocks below.

I was still living in New Hampshire when this happened. It caused quite the controversy. Some people were adamant that this symbol of the state must be restored to its original splendor. Others were equally as forceful in their opinion that the Old Man not be replaced.

My favorite interview occurred on the news the following morning. A girl from UNH appeared on the tv screen with a tear-streaked face and spoke with a shaky voice, "The Old Man was a gift from nature. Nature decided to take him back. He's with Mother Earth now."

Mother Earth? What was this girl talking about? She talked about the rocks as if she had lost a dear friend.

Her choice of words was strange. But evidently the people of New Hampshire agreed. The Old Man now rests with his creator, Mother Earth, and has not been replaced.

I'm glad that I can say I saw him before the collapse...and not just in photos.

This week's Theme Thursday theme was "Earth." Check out the other participants here.

because rach has to have words on wednesday

Rach (my very bored friend from college) gave me a major guilt-trip last week about how she HATES Wednesdays because my posts have no words. So in her honor, here's a little bar crawl through our college stomping ground. Don't forget to grab a beer at each stop...

The Vous...legendary and absolutely disgusting. I loved it. Before going to Maryland, everyone would warn you to get some Vous shoes. You had to have Vous shoes so the Vous goo wouldn't ruin your good shoes.

I had the last bid night there....absolute insanity! I vaguely remember dancing on the bar (it was a very Coyote Ugly-like moment), being kissed by pledges of half the fraternities on campus and spending the night absolutely drenched from pitchers of beer being dumped repeatedly over my head. I wasn't really sure how I felt about pledging under Marj tore this TEP pledge with wicked bad breath off me and threatened to kill him for kissing me. I professed my undying love for Marj and the house that very moment.

So where did you go if you were underage once the Vous closed? Terp Station. Where else could you listen to a band named "Green Eggs and Spam," get drunk for under a dime on Drinkin with Lincoln nights (even I'd drink beer when it only cost a penny) and always get in, no matter how bad your ID was. Of course, when the bouncers made your fake, they couldn't really say it didn't look like a real New York ID.

Cornerstone. I miss hearing Ted Garber play there. I miss big ass draft nights while watching the wrestling on pay per view. I spent my 21 and 22 birthdays there. I don't remember much of either night, except that I practically had to be carried home both nights and that Stop Lights are evil! E-V-I-L! And then there was the night of the 3 Jaimes. We all arrived at the same time, each with a different one of my IDs. I think the poor girls of Zeta are still using those crappy IDs. I wish I still had them so I could show you how bad they really were.

This is Bentley's. I literally went there twice. One night this girl was in the bathroom ranting about how her boyfriend was out with his boys at some restaurant called "Night Shift" instead of being out with her. We hesitated for 30 seconds and then broke the news that Night Shift was a titty bar. She had to know. I mean COME ON. You can't be at Maryland for more than 30 seconds and NOT know that. Apparently she really didn't... You could hear her wailing all the way out on the street. (A year later at law school, I convinced a bunch of people that I was paying my way through law school based on the tips I got working at Night Shift... People are SO freaking gullible sometimes)

And that brings us to the Fe. Since this isn't my porn post (seriously guys, I know you want it. but you'll have to wait), the Fe story I'll actually share is from the week of graduation. It was the last dollar bud night. Most of the usual group bailed and so it was just the two of us. We were at the bar talking when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. My roommate from freshman year. What a bitch.

As soon as I turned to her, she let loose on me screaming that I ruined her freshman year, that she hated me, and I was basically the spawn of all that is evil. People at the bar started rooting for us to fight. I never wanted to hit someone so badly in my life. But instead I laughed and asked her if she was done. That set her off even more and she started on another tear, this time aimed at convincing my friend that I was a nasty, bitchy slut (which we already knew because I may have...on occasion...been exactly that in those days).

I should have let her hit me. I would have loved for her to get carried off in handcuffs. But she got dragged away screaming before any blood was shed and I got lots of free beers that night. The end... Oh, what?

Would you have preferred the story about the time we got bored and spent the evening pretending that we were going to take this guy back to the house for a threesome?

Or did you not like the ending of that story? You hornballs want to hear about how the evening ended with amazing, mind blowing sex?

You'll just have to imagine those stories...for now.

wordless wednesday #11

Random Tuesday Thoughts #5

Last week I couldn't figure out what to write about, so I asked you guys. Thank you for your suggestions. To satisfy all of you, I'd have to write a pornographic post about vacationing ghosts doing kinky things with food and wine and there'd have to be some kind of crazy legal case, bitching about my coworker who beat me out for a job he wasn't qualified for and discussion of being a woman in a male dominated field. I'm just not that talented to write that post... we'll have to see what I can come up with breaking that down into smaller chunks.

Like I said, a coworker beat me out for a job. If you look at me on paper, it was a slam dunk that I'd get this editing/writing position. I don't compliment myself that frequently or that freely, so I'm not exaggerating when I say there are very few people who were more qualified than me for this position. I didn't get the job. He who shall remain nameless did. I've seen his work. He gives it to ME to edit. I'm not impressed.

I hate politics. He got the position because he kissed more ass than I did. But damn it, I deserved that job.

I love the Amazing Race. I wish I could go on that show. But they'd probably fire me if I missed that much work to bum around the world. And there's no way I'd be able to make up that many hours!

I also love Netflix, even though right now hubby's movies are up on the list. I miss going to movies. It's basically how I got through law school. Hubby and I saw some of the WORST movies just to avoid doing work... Like when we got sick of studying for our property final and just had to clear our heads. So we ended up at the ghetto theater watching "One Night at McCool's." Ever see that movie? It SUCKED! Not surprisingly, we were the only ones in the theater.

We got this email last week reminding us that computers are only to be used for work related purposes and we should not be playing on facebook or on our personal email accounts. Uh-oh. Big brother is watching. Think he'll be pissed if I'm blogging during working hours? :)

For more randomness, visit The UnMom.

And It's only 4:15...

I wondered what I would write about this morning. I never in a million years thought I'd be writing this post.

Andrew was having trouble sleeping. Hubby was pissed he was keeping him from sleeping, so around 1, he brought Andrew into bed with us. I hate - HATE - when he does that. "Don't do it," I told him. "It's just going to keep all 3 of us up all night." Usually if we let him cry for a little while, he goes back to sleep.

Hubby ignored me. And for the next 2 hours, Andrew rolled around the bed, climbed all over both of us. That was nothing unusual.

It's hard to describe what happened next. But in the ultimate difference between men and women: I thought Andrew could be having seizures. Hubby thought he was having a fucking sex dream. HE'S FIFTEEN FREAKING MONTHS OLD. He was NOT having a sex dream.

So I throw on my clothes and we load Andrew into the car. We live 20 minutes from the hospital. I made it down there in less than 10 minutes. The whole way down, I'm freaking out and wondering what the hell I'd say to a cop if he stopped me.

I pull into the hospital and go to park in the lot next to the emergency room. As soon as I pull into the hospital, a damn cop comes up behind me with his lights flashing. I saw it happening and thought, there is no freaking way I'm getting pulled over. I'm imagining all of this. It's all a bad dream.

"License, registration and proof of insurance please."

I think I said something along the lines of, "Yeah. Okay. But let me get my son inside the ER first please." The flashlight goes from blinding my eyes to the backseat where Andrew is staring bug eyed at the cop. He starts questioning me on what's wrong with my little guy as I get increasingly more hysterical. Finally the genius says, "So it's like a real medical emergency? And that's why you were hurrying?"

I fought the urge to blurt out "No asshole! I thought it was a nice night to load my baby into the car and cruise around Freehold at 3:30 in the fucking morning." Instead, I managed to get out "Absolutely. Can we please go inside now?"

Long story short...no ticket and we took a trip to the ER for what amounted to pink eye and an excuse for Andrew to flirt with all the pretty nurses and doctors.

And now here I am at 4:15, wide awake from this little field trip. The alarm clock is going to go off in an hour and I'm going to be a freaking zombie all day.

While the rest of the world is celebrating Easter...

Happy Easter to those of you who actually do observe this holiday.

This isn't my holiday. Actually, most of the people who live in this area are not celebrating Easter today. I live in the most highly populated Jewish part of the county. Everyone knows this. The schools have off for Passover, not Easter. We actually have "winter recess" and not "Christmas break." We're closed for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur but open for Martin Luther King's birthday and Good Friday.

But for some reason, with very few exceptions, the entire county is closed for Easter today.

I was lazy and didn't go to the store yesterday to pick up food. Why should I? Of course the stores would be open today, right? WRONG!

So with no food in the house, we were forced to venture out and attempt to locate breakfast. Trying to find somewhere that was open was an adventure. There was literally one restaurant open. One. In three freaking towns.

Even the diners were closed! If you're actually from Jersey, then you understand why this is surprising. If not, allow me to explain: Jersey diners don't close for anything. Most are open 24 hours a day. They're open for Christmas, New Years, flash floods, freak blizzard-like snow storms in the middle of July. They're always open. Except today...

Sams club was closed. What? Do Jews not need to go out and buy paper towels and milk in ridiculous mass quantities on Easter Sunday? Someone in corporate did not plan this properly.

The mall is closed. Don't the non-Easter celebrating folk of the county need to go somewhere and blow their hard earned money on useless products and fried foods? Yes, I hate the mall. But Andrew loves checking out the people and running around the play area. And when Andrew's happy, all is right with the world.

So now I'm stuck in the house with no food and nothing to do, except the work I've been putting off all week. Good thing for Netflix and my three new movies in their little red envelopes.

Aloha Friday #7

In Hawaii, Aloha Friday is a day to take it easy and look forward to the weekend. So today I'm taking it easy on blogging. I ask a question - you answer. I've already confessed lacking original ideas for my posts these days... So I don't feel all that bad saying that this is my spin on one of Erica's posts from last week.

Hubby and I have "an arrangement." Yes, it's totally improbable and it would never happen... But if one day, hubby meets a certain celebrity and she wants to accompany him back to his hotel room, that's okay with me. Here's his pick:

And because I'm a very gracious and loving wife and wouldn't get upset with his escapades with the lovely Drew, I'm allowed one celebrity romp myself:

Don't judge! Sean Connery is totally sexy. And what I wouldn't give to hear that voice talking dirty in my ear...

So this week's question is: If you could have one guilt free evening with any celeb, who would it be?

Like I said... Don't judge me... I won't judge you :)

What I'm Not Writing About Eggs

It's time for another Theme Thursday. This week's theme is egg...

Eggs?

Um...

Well, I can't take the easy way out and write about Easter eggs. It's not my holiday. And while I did get Easter baskets growing up, it was more because my mom wanted an excuse to give us truckloads of chocolate, jelly beans (that dad would always steal) and other goodies. I suppose we did decorate eggs for a short time, but all that ended when my sister and I got into a battle royale, sending dye and egg flying all over the kitchen. No more egg decorating after that. Those poor white cabinets were a little tie-dyed after that day.


So no to Easter eggs.

Faberge eggs maybe? The only thing I know about those eggs is that if I had enough cash laying around so that I could afford one, I would NOT blow that kind of dough on a bejeweled egg.

Okay.

So have you ever been to the egg? Yeah. The building. No, I didn't make that up. Really? You didn't know there was a building they called "The Egg" either? Go ahead and google it. I confess to looking it up on Wikipedia too.

I'm not going to do a post on eggs and fertility. Although my friends did just have their twins after trying to get pregnant for forever and doing all kinds of IVF. The girls are adorable.

I've never been to an Easter egg hunt at the White House (or anywhere else for that matter).

Egg rolls? I'm not really a fan. Particularly because the Chinese place by my house has about the worst egg rolls I've ever tasted.

Hmm... There was that one time during pledging where we had to "roll like eggs down Chapel Hill." We misunderstood the instructions and thought we had to roll down the entire huge hill between the Chapel and Route 1, rather than just the tiny slope along the side of the Chapel. You should have seen us try to stand up and run across the highway, dizzy as hell, and stumble over to ZBT for our last task...stealing their composite. (And no. This was not hazing. We, of course, wanted to stand on the mall doing the Macerena, singing at the top of our lungs, and bruise the hell out of ourselves tumbling across the sidewalks as we rolled down Chapel Hill. We, uh, thought it would be a good, um, bonding activity.)

Maybe that one falls into the "you had to be there at the time" category...

So what's left that's eggy?

I don't know. But you can check out this week's other Theme Thursday participants here and see what they had to say about eggs.

You'll Thank Me One Day

Prompt 4: Describe a time you gave a teacher a hard time...

Check out this week's other participants here.

English was always my best subject. It was easy for me. All through school, I had never gotten anything less than an A on my papers. It didn't matter what the topic was. I could always research and write the hell out of anything.

All that changed junior year in high school. I let my mother talk me into going into Honors English. It was culture shock.

My professor was from Chicago but fancied herself a real Englishwoman. She spoke in a British accent. And she was obsessed with all things England. (She also seemed to believe she was a fashion model, despite her truly bizarre taste in clothing). "I'm not like your other English teachers," she told us. "You probably won't like me. But if you listen, you'll be a better writer. And in a couple years from now, when you ace your freshman year writing course in college, you'll come back here over break and thank me."

When the time came to turn in our first assignment, I did so with my typical air of total confidence and arrogance. After all, I had never written a bad essay. Why shouldn't I be a bit cocky? I got the paper back the next day. It was COVERED in red ink. And the grade on the bottom? She gave me a freaking C. Gave it to me because I didn't earn Cs in English.

I stared at the paper in utter disbelief. I waited for the rest of the class to leave. And then I turned my fury on her. I yelled. I called her the worst excuse for an English teacher in the world. Who did she think she was giving me a C?

To her credit, she listened with patience I didn't know existed. Then she calmly spoke, "Jaime. Do you remember when I told the class there was always one student who hated me and didn't want to listen to my criticism? I had hoped it wouldn't be you."

Later that night as I wrote my next assignment, anger was replaced with an "I'll show her" attitude. I poured everything I had into that paper for hours. She would have to give me an A this time. She didn't. Less red ink. But only a B. Eventually, she did give me those As. Consistently. I became one of her best students. She became one of my favorite professors.

I went off to college and aced my freshman writing course. Exactly as she predicted, I went back to my high school over break and came to her classroom. She was terrorizing a new crop of students with the same old material.

After the bell rang, I got to talk to her for a few minutes. It went a little something like this: "I was so angry with you when you gave me a C on my first paper. You said if I listened to you, it'd make me a better writer and one day I'd thank you for being so hard on me. You were right. Thank you."

It was the first time I ever saw her speechless.

(sort of) wordless wednesday #10

Okay, so my original picture for this week got posted on Monday by mistake. You can check that one out here.

So this is wordless Wednesday take 2 this week...

WHY? WHY would you do this to your poor dog? And WHY are they rewarding this woman for torturing her dog by dressing it as a freaking peacock!

Random Tuesday Thoughts #4

I'm writing this while watching Cruel Intentions. I love this movie. I could watch it over and over again a million times and never get sick of it. But this is one of those movies that loses a little something when you're watching the edited for tv version, don't you think? It's just not the same when they make the line "I'm sure you've come here to make some arrangements. Unfortunately, I don't like losers." If you know the movie, you know how badly this line has been modified. And if you don't, well... "like" is not really a passable substitute for the word "fuck."

My old boyfriend and his wife are having a baby. (She's been in labor since 7 last night.) We lost touch in college and, quite frankly, I have no idea why he's talking to me now since things didn't end so well and that was my fault. But I'm glad to have him back in my life. My favorite lurker if you're reading this, congrats and I wish you guys all the best.

Do you ever hear about an ex having a baby and think "if things had just been a little bit different, it would be us having a baby instead"? Yeah, me neither. But I wanted to ask in case there was something you maybe wanted to get off your chest.

Speaking of babies, have I mentioned that I'm really glad I was never in labor? Hmm... you never heard that one before? Now you have. I really have nothing else to say on that subject.

I feel bad billing my clients for things that I know to be a complete and total waste of money. "The customer is always right" should have some limits. Like not filing motions you know you're going to lose. I don't care that they just want to make things difficult for the other side. I actually like to follow the rules about not filing frivolous applications.

So it really pisses me off when other people file these stupid motions that don't comply with any of the court rules just to make my client needlessly spend money. I just want a judge to waive a rule book in their face during oral argument and scream, "This is a rule book. Have you ever read one?"

I've seen it done. It's ugly. And very satisfying when you're not on the receiving end of that one...
Ahhh... It's officially baseball season. I've missed it.


Hubby's heading to Texas next week. He's psyched to be going "home." Sometimes I don't know how I ended up with a conservative gun-toting Texan... I'm very happy to be sitting out on this trip. Except that I'm sure he'll come home with armfuls of A&M garb for the little guy. He's already trying to convince Andrew that he has to go to A&M too. Andrew laughs at hubby when he asks if Andrew wants to be an Aggie too. And he nods seriously when I tell him that he can go to college WHEREVER he wants. (He gets no vote in whether he goes. The where can be up for debate.)

I'm really pissed off at the vending machine guy. He filled E1 with skittles this week. Do you know what happened the last time he did that? I ate them ALL. Seriously. I single handedly devoured the office's entire supply of skittles. I'm trying to avoid the kitchen at all costs until someone else depletes the stock this time.

If this post wasn't random enough for you, check out more random thoughts with The UnMom.

Uninspired

I love to write. It doesn't really matter what I'm writing about. It can be an annoying 50 page brief on mundane legal issues or a silly ghost story based on my haunted apartment in New Hampshire. As long as I'm writing, I'm happy.

Maybe it's all the extra hours I put in last month at the office... Or maybe it's the fact that I've been coughing up a lung for the past 2 weeks and can't talk above a really raspy whisper... But it could just be the fact that I'm a walking zombie these days and am practically falling asleep at my keyboard as I write this.

The point is...I'm lacking inspiration for things to write about.

The last time I asked someone what I should write about, the answer was "porn" and it prompted this post about my, um, expertise with swingers, toys and adult films... Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm no swinging porn star...but go read that post if you have no clue what I'm talking about :)

So I'll throw it out to you guys and ask if you've got any ideas. You take the time to read my rambling after all... You should get some vote in this.

wordless wednesday #9...on monday

Oops! So my computer decided that it wanted to post this TODAY instead of waiting til Wednesday. I don't know... Enjoy anyway...

Aloha Friday #6

In Hawaii, Aloha Friday is a day to take it easy and look forward to the weekend. So today I'm taking it easy on blogging. I ask a question - you answer. Now for today's question:

Poof! A genie appears from the magic lamp in your hands. Thrilled at his good fortune after being freed from his bottle, he offers you one wish. What do you wish for?

Counting to 10

I don't know why we're actually trying to teach the little guy to count at this point. He's only 15 months and his vocabulary, while expanding rapidly, still consists mostly of excited squeals and incomprehensible babbling. Maybe as lawyers, hubby and I enjoy exercises in futility. Then again, maybe it's just because it's too damn funny looking at his face as he gives me the "I am NOT saying that mom" look. You know the one. You've given it to your parents before.


Today we're going to count to 10 using quotes from tv and movies because, let's face it, I'm fried and it's easier to use someone else's words instead of my own this week.



"I have one simple request. And that is to have sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads!" (Dr. Evil in Austin Powers)



Violet: I don't mean to press my luck but would you mind telling me why you hired me?
Lil: Because, um, the average male is walking around with a toddler in his pants, a 2 year old right in his dockers.

(Coyote Ugly)

"I don't know how to tell ya this, Cyrus, but we are three white guys short. Or as they say in Ebonics, we be fucked." (Pinball in Con Air)

Chaucer: And one and two and three and four and your hands should be light like a birdie on a branch. And one and two and three and four you can hit me all day cause you punch like a...what?
Roland: A girl!

(A Knight's Tale)

"Very bad indeed. Blue are outselling me five to one. But I'm hoping for a late surge. And if I reach number one, I promise to sing the song stark naked on TV on Christmas Eve."

(Billy Mack in Love Actually)

"Right now, some lucky bastard's headed for the Pacific , get put on some tropical island, surrounded by six naked native girls, helping him cut up coconuts so he can hand feed them to the flamingos."

(Warren Muck in Band of Brothers)

Patrick: Well, I'll take you to places you've never been before.
Kat: Like where? The 7-11 on Broadway?

(10 Things I Hate About You)

"Jerry, d'you know the human head weighs eight pounds?"

(Ray in Jerry Maguire)

"Jersey is an island. It's nine miles by five. And if you drive *very* slowly, you can take a whole hour to go right around it. But when you get back, there's still the same old restaurants and bars, discos and boutiques. Same sad faces waiting to be faced. Jersey is some kind of prison."

(Detective Sgt. Jim Bergerac in Bergerac)

Inigo Montoya: We're in a terrible rush
Miracle Max: Don't rush me, sonny. You rush a miracle man, you get rotTEN miracles.

(The Princess Bride)

Hope you enjoyed today's counting lesson, movie style. Today's Theme Thursday was brought to you by the number 10.