Live Every Week Like It's Shark Week

DC, You Do This To Yourself

2010-02-06T11:22:00.002-05:00

This blog has become all about snow! But how could I resist another DC snow storm rant?

Once again, people of the greater DC area have been bracing for the snow storm all week, clearing out grocery stores and asking one another, "are you ready for the big snow? We're supposed to get 2 feet!"

When I spotted no less than 25 snowplows, just sitting in the shoulder as I rounded a quarter of the beltway Friday morning, I though, "oh wow, look, they might actually be prepared for this." Sure, it was kind of weird that they were just sitting on the side of the road, waiting, long before the snow even started, much less starting sticking. But, I guess the beltway is as good a place as any to start the plowing and salting process.

So, I continued with my day, but started to feel just as panicked about the snow as DC'ers. Why? Because, first off, I've witnessed the dramatic collapse of all infrastructure that occurs when this region receives anything over three inches. That alone is incredibly unnerving. Second, I had decided not to put my snow tires on my car when I was up in Buffalo over the holidays, because what were the chances of DC getting another respectable snow storm? But most of all, I knew my boss was certainly not going to let us go early, so there was a definite possibility that I could get stuck at work, or even worse... have to take my boss up on his offer that I stay in his guest room. While sitting in Court, waiting for my trial to start, I got to hear the bailiffs and clerks chatter about how they were getting off at 1 o'clock in anticipation of the storm. I sulked, knowing I had a 1 o'clock meeting at my office, an hour away from the courthouse and another 30 minutes from my apartment, as well as a full goddamn day of work.

However, all these concerns started to disappear as I made the journey back to the office and, hours later, the snow was still not sticking to the roadways. That all changed by the time I got out around 7 p.m. There was just under half a foot or so on the ground when it was time to make my drive home. Whatever. No big deal. Just take the roads slow. Avoid going uphill, especially from a complete stop. Give yourself ample room between cars.

Then I got on the 270 to the beltway... what a fucking mess. You'd think, this being the apparent headquarters of the snowplows earlier in the day, they'd have it somewhat cleaned up. Nope. Now, I'm not saying a plow hadn't touched it. It was clear a couple had been by in the last hour or so. What I'm saying is that it is not enough to merely have plows and drivers. You need to have drivers that know how to drive plows.

There were 1 - 1 1/2 foot snow piles on the highway in random places. Even in the middle of the goddamn beltway! These were clearly not snow drifts from blowing snow, but the packed snow that plows leave behind. Did you not go to plow driving school? Don't you know you're supposed to plow in succession, one plow in each lane, each slightly behind the other to pick up that edging and move it on over to the shoulder??

Now, I usually head East from the 270 split, but as I started to approach the off ramp, I saw a whole parking lot of cars, not moving, with emergency lights flashing up ahead. Since no one was behind me, I decided to change it up and go west on the beltway instead. As I made my somewhat abrupt lane change, I hit one of those fucking snow piles and started to fish tail for a second. Thankfully, I was able to get it under control and continue en route.

I passed at least 5 SUVs, trucks and other vehicles that had either hit the divider or otherwise ran off the road on the approximately two mile stretch before my exit. Some of these vehicles most likely had four wheel or all wheel drive.

Now, this is where I get really upset. All along that 2 mile or so stretch, I was behind three plows WITH THEIR PLOWS UP. Now, I understand that you can't have the plows down to scratch along dry pavement, or barely an inch of snow. But, there were at least a few inches on the road, still packed up in random piles along the roadway, and they weren't even dropping their salt/sand mix. What in the hell are you doing?? Where could you possibly be heading that is more important to clear up than the beltway, the freaking heart of this region's highway system? And if you're going to another area that's on your "route," what's preventing you from putting your plow down as you travel there? Is the 5 mph difference in speed going to slow you down that much?

The plows all got off at my exit and then got back on the beltway in the other direction. Were they lost? Were they going to keep their plows up in that direction as well? I can't even try to imagine what in the hell they were doing.

I then passed another dozen or so snowplows on my way from the beltway to my apartment. Some of these were parked on the side of the road in a line. Two individual plows were randomly in shoulders along River Road. Another three plows were blocking a section of River Road as it narrows once you cross into the district. Almost all of these plows had drivers with their engines running. What in the fuck are you doing DC? Are we paying plow drivers to sit in their vehicles and burn off gas? Are they lost? Is there some fucking confusion over what their mission is? Because I think it's pretty damn obvious. And hell, even if I was sitting on the side of the road, awaiting orders or clarification, you know what I'd do while I was waiting? Go plow some other streets! It's not like they don't need it.

Not to mention what a goddamn safety hazard it is for both the plow drivers and the other drivers on the street to have those giant vehicles taking up, in some cases, the only lane in one direction on a very hazardous roadway.

So good job DC. You once again had several days advance notice of a storm, and looked like you were poised to confront the challenge, only to epically fail once again.

Memories, Like the Corners of My Mind

2010-01-17T20:01:00.005-05:00

I find that lately, I've been looking at my past through rose-colored glasses. I keep longing to go back to times where I was less stressed and supposedly happier, whether that was 6 months ago, or 8 years ago.

However, as much as it might be easy to think it's all gone downhill since law school when looking at photos of how young, fresh-faced and fit I looked in those first couple months of the Fall 2006 semester, occasionally I'm hit by the realization that.... my life was crap then, too!

This time that epiphany came in the form of an email my roommate came across. This email was written by her to her non-law school friends at the time, but contains pretty much all the same sentiments and experiences I had, as I also have been forced to reside in D.C. and my roommate and I were in pretty much all the same courses. So, without further adieu, a look back at first year...

So this morning i think i managed to turn my alarm clock off in my sleep, and woke up in a panic at 9:30. So i took a cab to school. The whole time the cab driver kept yelling at me in broken English "Too far. Bad. This too far!" I said, "Well if you don't want to take me all the way up there, i can get out and get another cab." But he did not want that. He yelled "No. Too far. Bad!" When he dropped me off he said "Too far. If you ever want ride here again, i not take you. Is too far. Bad." I said, "Well thank you for the lovely ride, and have a great fucking day."

As you know, when there ws no coffee this morning, i could not request more coffee due to the mentally impaired cafeteria worker eating a paper clip.

In the libarary,. the lights kept flickering on and off (imagine trying to read in a lesser form of a strobe light). Then the fan system broke and there was a REALLY loud, shrill whistling to accompany the strobe light.

When i went to get some food around 2:30, there was none left. I said, "Um, do you think you might have food at some point... in... the cafeteria?!" The lady said "It ain't lunchtime no more. Come back when its supper time. We ain't got no food when it ain't time to eat"

In Contracts, the ceiling is leaking in several places. Noticing the distinct smell of shit, one astute classmate shouted: "We are right under the men's bathroom!"

Although i can't tell if the stench is different than the stench that almost killed my friend [Sparklebot] in CivPro this morning, coming from the boy sitting behind her, who as far as we can tell, has not showered since starting law school.

The boy that sits a couple of seats away, who i think has Tourette's (i'm not joking) talks loudly to himself during class, methodically licks his nose while flickering his tongue (imagine a lizard) and randomly laughs loudly after having the conversations with himself, is really distracting today. He's kind of a sanitary threat: he carries around a large pile of brown napkins, and carefully places one over his keyboard every day in class, and types on it. Until he begins excitedly picking his nose and laughing; then he either sticks whatever nastiness he found in his nose a) under the table b) on another part of his body, or c) onto said napkin. Either way, he then proceeeds to wipe his fingers on the napkin, ball it up, throw it into a pouch in his bag, and pulls a new napkin out of a different pouch in his bag, which contains the pile of brown napkins. And he then starts over.

I wish i was joking, especially about the boy in the last paragraph. But i am not.

Do you see how any of this could be slightly frustrating?

Oh dear. He is now clipping his fingernails. Please get me out of here!

Ahhh misty water-colored memories...

THIS BLOG IS ALIVE!!!!!!

2010-01-13T23:11:00.006-05:00

Well, sort of. It's on life support. It was touch and go there for a while, but the nurses have assured me that everything's gonna be fine, and that it is in no way contagious.

Oh wait, I'm confusing things...

I've been swamped, folks. I've been working even crazier hours than my normal crazy hours. Plus, I'm dealing with some personal and professional issues that I need to sort out. Basically, my life is a mess and I've got to get my shit together.

I get home late at night in a stupor despite the fact that I have not touched any alcohol. I make myself whatever has managed not to spoil in the fridge for a 10 p.m. dinner. I then have to make the difficult choice between reading my NY bar review notes for the bar exam in February, or World War Z. And in the end, I usually wind up reading neither.

The truth is, I don't even have the energy to watch most television. My LOST rewatch has been stalled as I realized that I wasn't giving the episodes their proper attention on rewatch.

I'm even ignoring dates that I might otherwise have been somewhat excited about.

So, basically, there are lots of things I should be focusing on rather than this blog. But I'll make a valiant effort to revive it nonetheless, because I just love you all that much.

Plus, it could be worse. I could have accidentally washed all my jumpsuits with my cases of spiral splatter paints.

Seriously, you really really need to check out People of Walmart if you don't already do so daily...

The Camera Don't Lie

2009-12-31T19:58:00.000-05:00

You know you've had a bad day when the compliments of random street loiterers put you in a good mood.

Usually, this comment would inspire a smirk, sneer, or eye roll from me:

"Damn, baby, you are the sexiest girl I've seen this year!"

I almost stopped dead in my tracks and gave him a big hug.

Thank you, random loitering, possibly homeless, man!

Oh yes, and thank you to my many kind friends who have supported me throughout all my ups and downs this year. I hope I've been there for you as much as you've been there for me. I know it was a tough one.

Good Riddance, 2009!

I'm Not Getting Any Younger Over Here

2009-12-30T08:52:00.005-05:00

I'm back in DC and back in my office. The on and off nausea I've been battling with for the last week or so has returned. I have a long litany of other complaints I could list here, but basically, I'm tired and beyond pissed off for the second day in a row.

However, I did smile at this Onion article, because it might as well be a parody of me in many situations.

According to the latest time estimates, if everything continues to move along at this intolerable pace, Americans will be left with no other choice but to scream.

Christmas Cheer and All That Jazz

2009-12-25T12:09:00.004-05:00

Merry Christmas to my many (5) blog readers!

I would like to report that, so far, the holidays haven't been a total disaster. Though I did spill red wine last night, I spilled it on a small child and food, missing myself entirely. A Christmas miracle, indeed.

No, things have been pretty lukewarm so far this holiday- not bad, not great. Getting to Buffalo took a lot longer than expected, thanks mostly to ridiculous gridlock stretching from the Rockville Pike all the way to Breezewood, PA. I arrived in Buffalo on Christmas eve to find that D.C. has better chances of enjoying a white Christmas. Just pathetic.

Later in the evening, I attended the aforementioned family party, where the small child was splashed with alcohol and where I pretty much fell asleep on the couch. After that, the family, new brother-in-law "Wasabi", special guest Murdock and I all headed to midnight mass. There, I had another good, but short nap. Murdock was rocking the step-dad's big, creepy child molester van and spread the Christmas cheer by warning people in the Church parking lot to get out of our way "or I'll molest you."

Then it was back home to continue the holiday tradition of encasing my brother's (hereinafter "brother Bear") toothbrush in Jell-O, so that he can wake up on Christmas morning, go into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and find a nice Jell-O mold with a special surprise inside. This year, my sister and I decided that new brother Wasabi's toothbrush should get in on the fun as well. Sadly, brother Bear has gotten wise to this new tradition and placed a decoy toothbrush in the upstairs bathroom, keeping his real toothbrush downstairs and gelatin-free. Lucky for us, Wasabi wasn't as prepared...

If you can't tell from this lazy, summary of a blog entry, I'm taking it easy this Christmas day. I've opened lots of lovely gifts, eaten lots of delicious rich foods, relaxed with the family, and gotten a whole 10 pages into World War Z. Soon, it's time for steaks and then on to see Avatar.

**Update: Avatar is incredible in 3D. Go see it.

No One Can Resist My Schweddy Balls

2009-12-23T11:03:00.002-05:00

So, I totally borrowed this from Sparklebot's blog, but it's justified. Enjoy the holiday cheer:

Christian Finnegan is Coming!

2009-12-21T23:23:00.002-05:00

One of my favorite comedians, Christian Finnegan, of Best Week Ever and The Chappelle Show fame, will be at the DC Improv this January. I saw him last year, and he was pretty damn impressive. So, this is my advertisement/attempt to get people to accompany me to said comedy show.

Here's a couple out of context jokes, to either wet your appetite, or make you think this guy is totally lame (they are meant to be performed as part of an act, dammit):

Some of you guys must have real jobs - office jobs. Anybody? By a show of broken spirits.

And part of his last act:

I hope that if I ever disappear, people don’t look for me based on the last websites I visited. Kind of an awkward press conference for my parents. “Officer, do you have any leads?” “Well, based on Mr. Finnegan’s computer entries, we think he was abducted by Sorority Sluts.”

I'm a Star! I'm On Top! Somebody Bring Me Some Ham!

2009-12-21T20:27:00.000-05:00

Leo: You tend to fly into a rage over the smallest problems. Fortunately, you'll encounter only huge disasters this week.
- My The Onion horoscope

I am sitting at the office, when I really should be kickboxing. I'm here because starting Wednesday afternoon, I am out of the office for a whole 5 days. There is no way that I can possibly finish all the work I have to do before that time, so I'm already bracing myself for angry voicemails and emails while I'm away. However, I've been here since before 8 AM this morning, so my brain is fried and I can no longer accomplish more than 15 minutes of productive work in an hour. So, I continue to sit here only out of guilt about my upcoming absence, and with the futile hope that I may get something else done tonight.

The title of this blog has nothing to do with this blog entry. I just had Liz Lemon's song in my head, and am now hungry for some honey baked deliciousness.

Early Christmas Gift: Buffalo in DC

2009-12-20T00:13:00.006-05:00

Today was the bestest day I've had in DC in a long time. And all it took was a bit of frozen precipitation.

First off, the snow was an excellent excuse not to make the 30 minute trek into work.

Also, almost everything was closed! Starbucks, CVS, Whole Foods, McDonald's... the only places I could find to eat on U Street were a couple bars and Ben's Chili Bowl. All bus service was suspended and the metro only ran between the underground stations. In other words, it was a great day for a fun trek around downtown DC.

Also, I drank Labatt Blue and watched the Sabres game.

But, by far the best thing about today? SNOW SNOW SNOW!!

Some other observations:

1) People in DC use umbrellas for EVERYTHING. Sun, rain... and now snow? I guess it makes some sense, but it just looks ridiculous to me.

2) People who are shocked when their truck or SUV gets stuck in the 2.5 foot snow drift they tried to drive through... always good for a laugh.

3) If the driveway leading out of your parking garage is a very steep, long and snow-covered hill, try backing up about 12 feet into the garage and then gunning it. It should do the job, AND it's a lot of fucking fun.

4) Hunkered down DC'ers = far less annoying people in the streets! It's no wonder that I liked most of the people I encountered today. The weak stayed home.

5) I saw three snow plows flanked by cop cars on Connecticut Ave around midnight. Snow plows get a motorcade, too?! And how effective is that when the first cop car gets stuck?

6) I got a lot of compliments on my Sabres beanie tonight. Further proof that most of the cool people out tonight were my people.

7) Three different people gasped, and asked me, "are you wearing heels?!" Yes, I was. Three inch heels to be exact. My knee high boots are my warmest, and I know how to walk in them in the snow. Fuck off, weaklings!

The Snowpocalypse

2009-12-19T10:53:00.000-05:00

It's finally upon us. The "major snow storm" that DC has been bracing for all week.

Snow storms are serious business down here. The grocery stores sold out of bread and water. Offices closed early yesterday to make sure that people got home AT LEAST 6 hours before a single flake fell (an associate at my firm was at another law firm doing document review, when he was asked to leave because "the storm is already in Richmond"). Retail stores have decided not to open on the busiest shopping weekend before Christmas.

Seriously, it's like a bad storm spoof movie down here.

I'm about to venture out on my way to work, shop, and hopefully get my hair cut. Here's to hoping that my salon will remain open and only fellow northerners will be on the roads.....

I've Got Garlic in My Soul

2009-12-16T22:17:00.007-05:00

No time to blog. I thought I could express my sentiments about today by a simple photo comparison.

See the resemblance? I know I do...

And You Run and You Run to Catch Up With the Sun

2009-12-15T22:30:00.004-05:00

I must apologize that the blogging has been a bit slow, and probably will continue to be for the next week or so. You see, I've had deposition on top of hearing on top of trial on top of appellate briefs on top of... well, you get the idea.

In fact, I was so pressed for time today that I did something that might shock your basic sense of decency. Around 9:20 this evening, when I knew it was only another associate and I left on our floor of the building, I went to use the bathroom down the hall, and unzipped and undid my pants on my way there. Yep, people, time is a scarce commodity. Can't waste a second. Even if it means dropping trou in the middle of your office building.

I realized, after the fact, that I had neglected to check the hallway for security cameras.

All I Don't Want For Christmas

2009-12-13T22:19:00.003-05:00

This morning, I stumbled upon a website with vintage holiday ads. While the majority of these sported happy house wives smiling as they do chores with their brand spanking new tupperware or fawning over the new Hoover vacuum their husband gave them, there were a couple that deserved more than the standard "I do not ENJOY cleaning! A mop is not a gift!" commentary.

I have a thing for stockings with the seam up the back. In fact, add that to the list of things I DO want for Christmas and go and buy them for me immediately. Quickly now, before I start to cry (see below). But, my favorite thing about this add is that her prick husband is expressing how much his dick "hearts" them as well, while I can only imagine Santa is patting him on the back, saying "Nicely done, man."

I DO NOT want appliances of any sort for Christmas. Waffle makers are great and all, but I recognize these gifts from significant others for exactly what they are: a way to make me cook for them. I'm not gonna buy into it. Despite my Martha Stewart post about a week ago, I don't usually relish chores and cooking. I do them every once in a blue moon.

So no, I will not emotionally manipulate anyone into buying me household appliances this year. In fact, I'm trying to cut back on the emotional manipulation in general this year.

Also, these are the most boring looking appliances and gadgets that I have ever seen in my life. I can't imagine someone saying "I'll CRY if I don't get that hand mixer! And I'll KILL MYSELF if I don't get that toaster!!"

Let's get past the initial question of what publication in the 1950's could even display this add... The vintage Playboy advertisement was way more tasteful than this. And I am not sure what I find most disturbing: her resemblance to a blow-up doll (seriously, does anyone's face actually look like that?) or the way she looks like she might just go and lick the shoeshine off Santa's boots (you know, assuming that she has a tongue).

Where are the children? This looks like holiday fun for the whole family. It just looks empty without rosy-cheeked children flashing yellow tooth grins. A missed opportunity for sure.

And last but not least....

There it is! Finally! What I want more than anything. Sweet, sweet escape from this holiday season.

So the Super Lawyer Femme Fatale Headquarters Really DO Exist?

2009-12-11T00:30:00.005-05:00

Around midnight I was alerted that a friend and client of mine was in need of legal assistance. How was I notified? By this:

That's right. Apparently the "severe winter weather warning" sign on a highway in Buffalo is my equivalent to the Bat Signal. When one is in need of urgent legal advice, the best way to get me, so it seems, is to tag a winter weather picture on Facebook as containing me. Why? Because nothing makes me respond faster than a "[Murdock] has tagged a photo of you" notification in my Blackberry inbox. I am faster than Jesse Owens when it comes to untagging unflattering photos.

So, I jumped out of bed and ran across my room to reboot my laptop and see what terrible photo might be streamed in my friends' Livefeed for more than 30 seconds. I arrived at Facebook to find that. Phew. False alarm. Crisis averted. Those random acquaintances are still unaware of what my hair looks like after being in a hat for 12 hours.

me: haha, soooo why am I tagged in this? Am I a severe weather warning? A ferocious storm?
murdock: no ... read the comments on the album ... i need legal advice lol

Now, I know this MUST be urgent, because the only way Murdock ever contacts me for immediate legal advice is when he has been locked up or when there's a strong possibility that he'll be locked up within the hour. Regardless, there's still a 99.9% chance that he will listen to my sound advise, and then completely disregard all of it.

I won't tell you the nature of the conversation due to attorney-client confidentiality. But, I can say that the phrase "controlled spin out" might have been used.

Long story short, I most definitely expect a call today asking about vehicle collision claims or how to contact a bail bondsman.

Happy Human Rights Day

2009-12-10T23:47:00.004-05:00

texts from last night: (601): You burnt your salmon and tried to mail it. Post marked to: Starving Kid in Africa

Should this stoned gesture:

a) inspire hope in humanity; or

b) destroy all hope in humanity.

...I'm just so torn...

I Think You Would've Made a Great Muppet

2009-12-06T19:45:00.007-05:00

I don't know what's in the tap, but I've become thoroughly domesticated this weekend. I cleaned and scrubbed, put up holiday decorations, tried to polish my silver reindeer decorations, did laundry, made a loaf of bread, and just now finished making dinner consisting of salad with pomegranate seeds, blue cheese, green apple, walnuts and tomatoes, mashed potatoes with garlic, cream cheese and chive, and chicken breasts with parmesan breading. I feel like Martha fucking Stewart.

And the quote is from Hot Fuzz, which I just watched for the first time! Seriously did Frost and Pegg stop their collaboration with only this and Sean of the Dead?

Why You So Obsessed With Me?

2009-12-05T11:55:00.002-05:00

I was in Balducci's gourmet food store the other day, which is already extra busy with holiday shoppers and it reminded me of the good old college days when I used to work at a gourmet store and bakery. It was great in that I got tons of free (read: stolen) delicious foods and had some great coworkers. But, I got paid next to nothing, got no respect and was hit on by gross older men all day. Which is of course, why I became a lawyer. So now I get paid next to nothing in comparison to my giant student loans, get no respect as a new attorney, and get hit on by gross older men all day.

So that's the topic for today: creepy men.

Exhibit 1. Just this week, some older, overweight attorney standing outside the courthouse on his cell phone gave me the up and down, smiled, and then WINKED. Yes, he WINKED. This is right after some other courthouse staff member followed me through about three different floors before "accidentally" brushing his hand past my ass as he opened a door for me.

Exhibit 2. There is a teenage janitor who works in my building, whose first language is definitely not English. He has a strong crush on me. It's actually pretty hilarious. He'll come in to change my garbage, and try to strike up a conversation about... who knows what because half the time he is stuttering and shaking so much I can't really understand him. Then, after I respond, he'll just continue to stand there, staring at me with a huge smile on his face, nervously laughing at whatever it is I said. This would be incredibly creepy if not for him being so young and a tad bit slow.

Exhibit 3. Yesterday, I went to the supermarket after working out. As I walked past the beer aisle, about three guys stopped, cat-called and whistled in the middle of the goddamn store. They then proceeded to follow me around as I completed my shopping, always about 15 feet behind, letting out the occasional "damn!" I don't know whether this was more creepy or more annoying.

Exhibit 4. You just can't keep a good stalker down. I saw this one guy for two dates within a 3 day time span. I then tried to ignore him, but due to his persistence, eventually had to give him a spiel about how I was not ready to be in a relationship again, blah blah blah. He still didn't let up, so I eventually had to block him from all media: facebook, gmail, etc. Turns out I forgot to take him out of my phone. This past Friday, I must have accidentally dialed him when I forgot to put the keylock on my BB. He called back within ten minutes.

The voicemail:

"Hey! Surprised to see you called. Didn't think I'd hear from you. I'm out right now, but let me know what's up. I'm hoping you've changed your mind. I'd love to see you again soon, sexy."

The text message 9 minutes later:

"Hey, boss! left u a message. What's up?! I am out at ---- right now. It's crazy! u need to get your sexy ass down here!! The only thing that would mak [sic] this night better would be an elegant, smoking hot lady who can go beer 4 beer w/ me."

Let's ignore the fact that he called me elegant and then alluded to my ability to pound down beers at record pace in the same sentence...

text 17 minutes later:

"Hey good looking! where are u? did I tell u what a freakin hot sexy devil u made on halloween! not stalking u, LOL. just saw the pics. U don't have to come out in costume, just cum out!"

Yes, that is how he spelled "come".

64 minutes later:

"i have to admit. i'm still hung up on how great you are. we should make another date, wherever u want. U know I will be on my knees for you... LOL."

33 minutes later:

"u there?"

4 minutes later:

"i am going to Cali again tomorrow."

......

This is also eerily like another guy I went on a couple dates with, who decided the way into my heart was to text message or try to call me every 5 minutes on Halloween night. We did not have plans to see each other that night.

Keep in mind that all of this is just a snap shot of some of the experiences I've had over the past month or so.

Let It Snow

2009-12-05T11:53:00.006-05:00

It's Snowing!!! And it's STICKING!!! We might actually get a couple inches!!

Plus, Shaun of the Dead is on Comedy Central, I'm enjoying a grilled cheese, and I'm NOT at work.

It's a damn good day.

Do You Like Sushi?

2009-12-04T17:04:00.002-05:00

This summer, some friends of mine dragged me back into the dating world. Part of that push included convincing me to join a dating site, that will remain nameless. It didn't go well. If you haven't yet experienced the online dating world, I should let you know that this is what awaits you:

Hello, I am outside of your target range and if that bothers you than you should probably erase this message now. If you are bored or open to alternatives than read on. I am currently a Sergeant in the US Army, based at Fort Myer and an escort to the President of the United States. Prior to that I spent several years managing my friends acting careers in LA. Before that I was a publicist in the music industry. Both were a lot of fun and very hard work. What I am doing now is beautiful and very hard work. I am not complaining. One little sister got her law degree from the University of Missouri. One older brother is in biochemical research for Monsanto. I can bike to West Virginia and back on a weekend and often have done so. I love to visit my friends in Manhattan and spend the weekend biking with the taxis (blows the bulls in Pamplona away). I have hiked through a rain forest and love Berlin and Prague. Do you like sushi?

I can't even begin to point out all the weird and hilarious parts of this message.

Do You Need Me To Make You A Mix Tape?

2009-12-03T08:49:00.007-05:00

I was listening to a radio segment this morning on the dying art of mix tapes as tokens of affection. It made me think of this oh so true quote from High Fidelity:

To me, making a tape is like writing a letter. There's a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting again. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You've got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention (I started with "Got to Get You Off My Mind," but then realized that she might not get any further than track one, side one if I delivered what she wanted straightaway, so I buried it in the middle of side two), and then you've got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch, and you can't have white music and black music together, unless the white music sounds like black music, and you can't have two tracks by the same artist side by side, unless you've done the whole thing in pairs and...oh, there are loads of rules.

The last time I was given a mix tape by an admirer was in 2002. And of course, tapes were pretty much a thing of the past at that point, so it was actually a "mix cd". The giver was a friend of my then boyfriend, who soon became my new boyfriend. We'll just call him "BBC". BBC told me he made it for me because he thought I needed to relax (somehow, even despite many "relaxants" in undergrad, my inner tensions were apparent). He swore for quite a while after, even once the previous boyfriend and I broke up and BBC and I got together, that he had made that mix tape completely innocently. However, no one makes a 60 minute mix tape innocently, especially one that contains Joe's "All the Things Your Man Won't Do"*.

I was going to make a tape in reply, but I thought it might be better to ask him out instead of giving him a CD that only played the Blood Hound Gang's "The Bad Touch".

By the way, I am aware that the above picture is from Say Anything and not High Fidelity. However, I found it more appropriate... even though I think Say Anything is a craptastic movie.

* If the name of the track itself isn't enough to expose him, take a look at the lyrics. Also present on the CD: Marvin Gaye's "Got To Give It Up", James Brown's "I Feel Good", and Leo Sayer's "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing".

Ryan Miller: How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways

2009-11-30T21:26:00.004-05:00

I love thee for the way you school Aubin in the Amp Energy Commercial.

I love thee for the way you stood as the quiet guy amidst the drunken chaos at the end of the bar.

I love thee for the fond memories of how you stood on your head, juggling shot after shot, to fend off the villainous Sens and keep us along the righteous path in the 2006 playoffs.

I love thee for the masterful way in which you rob Rod Brind'Amour:

I love thee for the way you keep your eye on the puck despite your endearing, slightly lazy eye.

And most of all, right now, I love thee for this most recent shut out of the Leafs.

It's Miller Time!!

But, I Can't Do This All On My Own...

2009-11-30T18:22:00.008-05:00

Don't let my poor Microsoft Paint skills distract you. In case you didn't recognize, that's me, doing it all with perfect hair, a new briefcase and a good bustier.

Lately, I'm afraid my boss and co-workers have mistaken me as Wonder Woman. Perhaps it's because I came back from the bar exam just in time to swoop in and save them from an overlooked and immediate appellate brief deadline. Or maybe it's how I skillfully handled no less than 5 court appearances a mere two days after I was sworn into the Bar. Or perhaps it's just the way I manage to be extremely productive, utterly brilliant, funny as all hell, and cooler than Freddie Jackson sippin' a milkshake in a snowstorm all at the same time. I've received accolades from my fellow associates, such as, "[Siren], you're a legal superstar," "I have the utmost respect for you," and "you didn't fuck up today".

However, the downside of this is that when I begin to produce work at the rate of a mere mortal, I disappoint everyone. I am expected to manage no less than 40 cases at any given time, including attending all relevant hearings, conducting all discovery, making sure the paralegals have my files and schedule in order, preparing all trials and depositions, and filing all manner of brief, motion and mechanic's lien. I even get to do the work my clients push back on me, such as preparing their interrogatory responses, because, for only $225.00 per hour, they'd rather I try to put together the tiny pieces of the puzzle that they decide to slowly and incompletely provide to me, rather than be bothered to sift through their own documents for the answers.

It's really, really hard to do all this for 60 or more hours, still get to the gym 3 times a week, stay impeccably dressed, manage my fantasy sports teams, watch actual sports teams, keep up with friends and family, and study for another upcoming bar exam, when all you really want to do, is say fuck it, I quit, and start looking a little more like this:

Happy Turkey Day

2009-11-26T13:17:00.007-05:00

Some observations from my flight to Atlanta:

1) I am half twenty-something year old woman and half ten-year-old boy. I was at the Smithsonian store in Reagan National airport, admiring a beautiful pair of emerald-cut citrine quartz earrings when I spotted out of the corner of my eye.. "Oh man! Space ice cream! Cooool! And Apollo 13 shuttle kit complete with Armstrong, Aldrin AND Collins actions figures. Sweet! The Columbia even detaches for full lunar landing reenactment!"

2) None of the bars in the airport are showing the Sabres/Caps game. Typical DC.

3) I will never fly Delta again. My carry-on bag is determined to be "too large" by some dickhead male flight attendant at the gate. I protest that, not only can I fit it into the box that they use to determine whether a piece of lugagge needs to be checked (which is much smaller than ANY overhead), but that I've also managed to fit it into the overhead compartments on puddle jumpers, and this is a 757. He responds that the size of the plane doesn't matter. Pushing this obviously false statement aside, I mutter "yeah you keep telling yourself that size doesn't matter," then flash my most sarcastic smile and add "happy holidays." I enter the jetway and take my seat on the plane, only to watch at least 5 pieces of luggage which are larger than mine go by. I also watch some lady take a seat in my row with her tiny yappy dog in a carrying case. I contemplate whether it's better to show the flight crew how wrong they are, and undoubtedly get escorted off the plane, or to silently have a heart attack in my seat.

4) Australia is trying to use my love of Lost to trick me into going on a walkabout. On the plane, I watched a commercial about a woman with a failing marriage and a job that is consuming her life (hmm some of this I can relate to), who, in the middle of the night, is visited by a young black boy, who I can only assume is supposed to be a young Abaddon. This boy tells her that the only way to make things right in her life again is to go on a walkabout. I won't be fooled so easily, Australia! I know how this ends!!

Retail Therapy

2009-11-24T23:16:00.003-05:00

Lately, I've been trying to be good with money. And, boy, has it been difficult. Whether it's on clothes, tickets, travel, or mass quantities of alcohol, I really enjoy things that involve spending money.

So, that's why I am pondering over these two dresses. I can only get one. At first, I thought the choice would be easy. The first one I can wear with a sweater or blazer to make it work appropriate, or wear it with a push-up and feel a bit like Joan Holloway on Mad Men. In any case, I can wear it pretty much anywhere. It's curve-hugging (though I do have to have the waist taken in by a tailor) and fits in very well with my style.

However, this second dress is unlike anything else I have in my closet, and the friend who was with me when I tried it on swears it fits me perfectly in all the right places. Plus, it's just very fun and a little Parisienne looking. It's far less practical, but it's also on sale for almost half the price of the first dress.

Why do I even have to make this choice? Didn't I go to law school to avoid this?

It's Been All Chain And No Ball

2009-11-24T22:37:00.004-05:00

Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I got home from a hectic day of work around 9 PM, per usual. While trying to pack, I put the icing on the cake by breaking two separate eye shadow palettes. Just prior to breaking the first one, I thought, "hmm I think I'll take this one, since it's one of the few eye shadows that isn't broken". Drop. Crack. Kablooie.

I then shouted to my roommate, "I feel like having a tantrum! This is the one time I wish I had a boyfriend. Isn't someone supposed to calm me down and fix this for me?"

My roommate then made the astute observation that perhaps this is why I don't have a boyfriend.

I countered that I am only using boyfriends for their intended purpose. They are supposed to be good in bed, make me laugh, have similarly good taste in entertainment, and, most of all, know how to diffuse my tensest moments.

She then asked how in the world I manage to find guy after guy who is more than happy, during these high-strung moments, to say "aww, cheer up, I'll get you a new one". Clearly, I prey on suckers. Complete suckers.

It's not my fault. I was trained from early on by a high school boyfriend who made it his duty to wait on me hand and foot. This guy did shit I didn't even ask for. And when I so much as got road rage, he would offer to meet me on the highway and clear a path through the traffic.

So now, every now and then, when hiking my way through the single life with my big ol' pack of backage, I'll spot an interesting guy along the path, lugging his own baggage, and say "Hey! You look interesting. How are you doing today? Oh do you mind taking this for a second? Phew, thanks! That thing was getting heavy!" and continue along as the guy lags behind, buckling under the weight.

It's terribly sexist, I'm sure. It's completely contrary to my otherwise extremely independent personality. But, as long as it works for me, I'm gonna milk it, motherfuckers.

The D.E.N.N.I.S. System

2009-11-22T23:16:00.004-05:00

If you don't watch it already, you need to do yourself a favor and add the last four seasons of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia to your Netflix queue. I'm a new fan, but, in my defense, I went without cable for 2 years up until a couple months ago. And, even if I did have cable, it's on FX, so really, how was I supposed to know it was any good?

Turns out it's better than good. I'd say it's on par with some of my other favorite comedies, including Arrested Development and 30 Rock.

I found this last episode to be especially amusing because 1) who doesn't know a couple dozen examples of the D.E.N.N.I.S. System in action; 2) there's been a couple times in my life where I probably looked like Sweet Dee rolling down the hill, yelling "I don't need you! I don't need anyone!"; and 3) Danny DeVito says "monster dong" at least a couple times.

Oh yeah, and you'll have to click on part 2 for yourself when the video is done, because I can't be bothered to post two videos at once:

Do girls REALLY just want to have fun?

2009-11-21T15:21:00.006-05:00

I picked this photo from one of many random and explicit pictures that resulted from my google image search of "cigar smoking", mainly because I think it's hilarious that someone actually made a DVD of "Nude Cigar Smoking". The Bill Clinton saga aside, I didn't realize this was such a popular fetish.

I should add that an image search for guys' night out also produced numerous photos of Betty White...

Anyways, the reason for this image is that DC101 is giving away one of the best "guys night out" ever. A predetermined number of area males get to go to H Street Country Club, the local bar/restaurant/minigolf/mini-arcade. Not only is there shuffle board, billiards, and skee ball at this arcade, but there are also skee ball leagues (I do not know how I have not been scouted for this yet, since I ROCK at skee ball). This establishment also happens to be located in one of my favorite DC neighborhoods and therefore close to many other fine drinking and eating establishments, including Granville Moore's, the belgian beer and mussel house. These restaurants are donating the food and alcoholic beverages for guys' night. There will also be cigars and live music.

So, this is yet another time where I wish I had a dick.

I also recently had this thought when my friend C told me about her betrothed's dream stag party. I am sure we will be able to arrange the best bachelorette party ever for C, but... the inner dork in me is just dying to spend a whole day in a rented movie theater watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy while drinking beer and greasy foods.

No offense to my awesome friends who I always have a lovely time with (disclaimer! disclaimer!), but why are guys' night so much better than girls' night activites? Cosmos can be delicious, but anyone who knows me knows that, despite my usual outward appearance, I'm more tomboy-ish than girlish. I prefer a decent beer to a fruity cocktail. I'd rather go to a hockey game than a fashion show. For my last three first dates, I chose to eat bar food and watch all day Sunday football over the suggestion of a nice dinner and drinks. I'm also pretty damn used to being the sole woman in a crowd of men.

I love beer, arcades and cigars as much as the next guy. Why am I not allowed at guy's night????

You're Drinking What They're Selling

2009-11-19T22:16:00.003-05:00

I've decided I'm going to start playing the guitar again. So, in my quest to find the perfect Fender strat, I accidentally stumbled upon this:

My boss tossed this latest issue of Guitar Aficionado on my desk (I guess it's the yuppy answer to Guitar World, except without contributions from actual musicians).

Seriously, someone combined my love for music with my lust for cars?!! Why are they teasing me by publishing this unicorn of a guitar?

No, really [current sexual partner], you're amazing!

2009-11-12T18:45:00.007-05:00

A thought occurred to me this weekend: men are horrible at cunnilingus.

To most of us women, this is not news. I've thought it plenty of times over the past 11+ years. However, what strikes me is that, as I get older and more experienced, the men I am with don't seem to be getting any more talented.

Any men reading this have probably already triumphantly declared in their own head, "not me! I drive my woman wild with my oral skills!" You can stop beating your chest and take that smug smile off of your face. When I say men are bad at oral sex, I am most definitely including you in that general category. You are terrible at oral sex.

Not too long ago, I was on a date with a guy who took the liberty to tell me, completely unsolicited, that he loves eating a woman out and that he's absolutely mind-blowing at it. This motherfucker thought he was the Mr. Pussy of Capitol Hill. When I shrugged, flicked my cigarette and told him that it would be a deviation from my general experience, he only tried to assure me further, leaning in to say, "my last girlfriend was bi, and she said the same thing. But, once I went down on her, she had to agree that I was better than any girl she'd ever been with." He couldn't have been more proud of himself, smiling and licking his lips at me.

I later took him up on his challenge. The verdict: his ex-girlfriend was an excellent liar.

So why are so many men in denial about their oral inadequacies? Because of us, ladies. I hate to blame the victim, but the issue here is clear. We boost our man's ego, or avoid the sticky topic altogether, by lying to them and faking orgasms when they take the rare occasion to wow us with their tongue-swirling prowess. I am as guilty as the next girl in this respect. Many a time I've purposefully deepened my breaths and let out "oohhs" and little screams while some poor guy who thinks he's god's gift to love making fumbles around down there, attacking my pussy like he's in some kind of pie eating contest. I lay back and try not to completely lose my sex drive while trying to remember whether I paid my Comcast bill. After about 30 seconds of this, I'll usually grab him and pull him back up to me, telling him that he's driving me so crazy that I just can't wait any longer.

Why do I do this? Because I want to get the hell on with it and have some chance at an orgasm... sooner rather than later, home... alone... with a far more talented vibrating bullet. Also, there's no better way to ruin the moment than by getting him all worked up and anxious over his performance. If I lay there silent or try to give him directions only to have him continue to fail, he's going to be tipped off that he's not the stud he thought he was. And if there's anything worse than a man who's over-confident, it's a man who is aware of just how unremarkable he is in bed.

But, not any longer, ladies. From now on, I will not be lying to men about their utter ignorance of the downtown road map. I will no longer dread that I'll be stuck with an eager over-eater who doesn't stop when I beg him to because he thinks that my pleas are made out of passion, and not frustration. If the man really sucks, he can keep on trying, with a little guidance and sincere feedback from yours truly. And if there's really no hope, we can at least nix those 30 seconds of unnecessary intermission.

In related news, stay tuned over the next few weeks for a post on how the majority of men's dicks are somehow "above average".

"Kill the Queen!" "What?" "The Jukebox!"

2009-11-11T21:25:00.006-05:00

Fine. I admit it. I don't cringe when a Lady Gaga song happens to come on the radio. I might even just leave it on the dial for a while... Ok, fine, I almost downloaded a couple of her songs from iTunes to put on my workout mix. I resisted... Ok, fine! It was because my iTunes is broken.

But, in case you thought there was nothing more frightening than me enjoying Lady Gaga as a guilty pleasure, or than the Stephen King-inspired "Carrie" outfit that Lady Gaga wore to the last MTV Movie Awards, below is a clip of Christopher Walken reading the lyrics to Lady Gaga's Poker Face. Unfortunately, he never gets to the line, "I'm not lyin', I'm just stunnin' with my love glue gunnin'"

On the topic of things that are scary, this past Halloween I participated in a "Zombie Walk" that finished with a screening of Shaun of the Dead. Yes, I am officially a giant dork.

We started out getting drinks at Piratz Restaurant, where our costumed waiter served our drinks in gaudy, over-sized goblets. The zombies then took off into downtown Silver Spring and attacked buses and store and restaurant fronts. And of course, I thoroughly enjoyed my first viewing of Shaun of the Dead. I think this means I can no longer mock those who have read Pride, Prejudice and Zombies.

Eh, nevermind. I can and I will.

My first post

2009-11-10T23:23:00.003-05:00

At five years old, you were my first boyfriend. I will always remember you picking me up in your Hot Wheels Jeep. You wowed me with your ability to pee into a toilet from halfway across the bathroom. You had the faith in me to tell me that, if I just practiced, I too could my farting noises with my armpit.

There was a time when you were like family to me. I'm sorry that we lost touch, and that I never saw the sadness behind your bright smile.

Rest in peace, Justin.