Jabberwocky

In Which I Get Angry, Give a History Lesson, and Get a Little Carried Away

2006-06-28T11:57:00.000-05:00

I have been increasingly troubled by the non-sequitur propaganda which has seeped in to many people's collective unconscious. Namely, that if you are anti-war you hate America.

Imperialism was the hot-button topic at the turn of the 20th century, and I am somewhat distressed to find that the same issues are still current at the dawn of the 21st. Once we'd taken part of the Pacific, some of Central America, thought about seizing Cuba from the Spaniards, and wound up embroiled in the Phillipines with no real idea what to do with them, American Imperialism gave way to Isolationism, such a popular idea that we also got President Wilson in the deal as well. But we got dragged into WWII by the catastrophic events at Pearl Harbor and spent the better part of the next 50 years fighting around the globe for interests that weren't really that material to our freedom. Korea, Vietnam, and the ongoing Cold War - all challenged the way of life (or more precisely the economic system) of people in other countries. And this is more of the same.

When the U.S. liberated the Phillipines at the end of the 1800s, it was like the dog that caught the car it had been chasing. Now that you've got it, what do you do with it? We had left the country without leadership, having deposed the government. We didn't want to take over the island, we couldn't leave the country to run itself because it couldn't, and unless we took over the place we would have handed it straight to the Germans which nobody wanted. Sound familiar?

Now that we have caught Iraq, what do we do with it?

I agree we can't just leave without patching up the mess we've made of their country and its political structure, but I can no longer abide the "flying blind" that seems to be the main strategy. I was told we'd be out by January 2005; I was told "Mission Accomplished;" I am now told it will be a "few more years," all in articles appearing right next to those listing who died over there that day or announcing that Halliburton didn't really mean to make such large profits on non-bid contracts with the government.

And STILL nobody has shown me the WMD.

And STILL nobody has shown me that the Iraqi government is responsible for terrorist threats to the U.S.

And STILL I have to watch as we continue to tick off the better part of the Arab world.

I am tired of listening to this - I am tired of paying taxes for this - I am tired of my country going further into debt for this - I am tired of watching others pay for this with their lives.

But because I do not agree with the war DOES NOT mean that I hate this country. On the contrary, I love this country enough to make use of the precious freedom it provides. Raising my voice in dissent is an act which exemplifies the most uniquely American freedom; daring to express an opinion celebrates the very best about the basis of the country. I may hate what the government does, I may hate what the president does, I may hate the manner in which my elected officials choose to spend the taxes I pay, but speaking out and expressing those opinions do NOT mean that I hate the country.

I am tired of this being spun so many times that the public is starting to believe it. Dissent does not equal unpatriotism, despite whatever you may hear.
___________________

The other misconception that is driving me nuts is that we're in Iraq to "fight for our country's freedom." I've heard this from Congressmen, I've heard this from parents and families of service members, I've heard this from friends, and I wonder if any one has been paying attention. This is NOT a war about our freedom, it is a war about freeing the residents of a nation a world away from a dictatorial government and a restrictive society. Even more perplexing to me is that the people advocating that we should free the Iraqis from the restrictions imposed by their religions are the same people telling me that we can't teach teenagers about safe sex because God doesn't approve. It makes want to scream.
___________________

I am tired of people not paying attention. Of taking the press releases, taking the spin, taking other people's points of view and swallowing them hook, line, sinker, and without even a moment's pause to consider their own thoughts on the matter. I would be content not if everyone changed their point of view to mine, but if everyone could just articulate their own point of view and show, even for just a split second, that they understand it. Because I don't think that most people have a clue.

I think most people have gotten their opinions second hand. From cable news, from pundits, from spin-meisters, from campaign consultants, from commentators and it pisses me off to no end. But those are precisely the people whose job it is to make sure that you get their version of the story. I think most of the populace supposes it's easier than thinking for their own selves.
___________________

I am against going into an armed conflict without a coherent plan.

I am in favor of anyone who chooses to pray to whatever diety they choose or none at all.

I am against invoking the tenets or principles of any specific religion, including my own, to justify, direct, or command government policy.

I am against throwing the idea of checks and balances out the window under the pretense that our nation is threatened. We've always been threatened. From without, from within, there have always been people set on causing mayhem and bringing the government down. This is not different enough to permit the executive branch to do whatever it damn well pleases.

While we're on the topic, I rather like my constitutional rights. I want the judicial branch regulating whether or not the Department of Justice and NSA get invited into my personal life if I don't at least get to know about it. The idea of probable cause is more attractive to me than "just trust us."

I am for the idea of responsible spending. I work hard to pay my taxes and there are certain things which I believe get me more bang for the buck. I'd gladly settle for a few less missiles and have more kids in programs like Head Start; a little more oversight of non-bid government contracts and many more teenagers who know how to keep pregnancy and STDs from happening to them.

I don't always agree with the status quo, I don't always like the direction our leaders are headed, and I don't hate America.

So Ann Coulter can kiss my ...

Born to be...Boring?

2006-04-27T09:35:00.000-05:00

Earlier this morning in the kitchen of my office...
_______

Me: Must have coffee.

Gaile (assistant extrordinaire): Those are cute sandals. And I noticed yesterday that you have a tattoo!

Me: You mean the daisy on the second toe of my left foot?

Gaile: Yeah, your tattoo.

Me: Nope, not a tattoo. I was babysitting a friend's 8 year old and taught her a song about having a daisy on my toe. So she drew me one.

Gaile: And it's still there?

Me: Well, she used permanent ink.

Gaile (laughing fit to be tied): And here I thought you had a wild side after all.

Me: Nope. No wild side, just a daisy on my toe.
__________

(Let me say that Laura will "get" this post, even if some of you don't. Of course, she knows the daisy song backwards, forwards, and falling-on-her-butt drunk. The rest of you may have to just imagine it.)

Impressive

2006-04-24T16:35:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it is just so easy to impress guys. One of the partners in my office gave one of the other lawyers and me a pop quiz yesterday: How many ways are there to get on base in baseball?

It turns out that, by his count (which distinguishes "got a hit" from "hit the ball but the shortstop dropped it") there are ten. Nevermind that I only got three. I absolutely knocked his socks off with "hit by pitch."

Of course I know that one. I throw like a girl, and it shows!

Postcard from Mexico

2006-03-23T22:11:00.000-06:00

That's his "I'm on vacation and you're not" face... hmph. (But I'm glad you're back, buddy. Sorry I missed you last weekend)

International Relations

2006-03-21T21:43:00.000-06:00

I was driving to Austin last Friday and getting in my NPR fix at the same time before I hit Waco and found the funniest Frenchman ever! On The World, they were interviewing him about his blog (vlog?) which he makes in his living room with an American flag that he went out and bought. Easily the best step forward in Franco-American relations since they began exporting Champagne. So stop by and say Bonjour America!

(In a totally related thought, I'm going to have to learn French before the 18th episode. I had way too much trouble with episode 9 (in French), but I know it had to do with Dick Cheney which, in French, sounds very much like dictionary. Thank goodness for the pictures.)

(In yet another related note, Cyrille sang a song in a recent video which included the refrain "War is bad, love is good, guns are bad, sex is good" to which one of his commenters noted that in Texas it's somewhat the opposite: sex is bad, guns are good. Like I needed reminding how red my state is. Uggh.)

Update

2006-03-16T11:40:00.000-06:00

We won. It's over - at least for the moment. With my luck, however, this guy is going to appeal and I'm going to have to school him on appellate procedure as well.

Am I The Only Non-World Traveler?

2006-03-13T22:35:00.000-06:00

Okay, if Daniel is most likely to wind up in a third-world country (see last post), my oldest brother Steve is most likely to get stuck in an emerging world power.

Steve's stuck in China a little longer than he expected because he's spiked a mild fever. It turns out they won't let you leave if you're sick. Hopefully he feels better soon so that he can get himself back home for a few days before he has to leave again for Germany.

These brothers of mine, I swear, are making me feel so much like a homebody.

Un Vacación en la Playa del Carmen

2006-03-13T21:20:00.000-06:00

Let me preface this post by saying that even though I am the third of four kids, I am the good one. This is my brother, Daniel. He's number four.

Although he's the youngest, Daniel is easily the one of us most likely to end up in a third-world country at any given moment.

As we speak he's in Mexico for the next couple of weeks. He told our parents he was going a few days before he left which was probably a good idea. They would have noticed that he wasn't around the house by how clean it was staying.

Of course, Daniel usually does give notice when he's leaving the United States. When he was 16, he booked a trip to Guatemala for the summer, found himself a place to stay, and enrolled himself in a Spanish school down there. He told our parents he was going once he figured out that he was too young to get a passport on his own. I think my mother spent the next two months in church, all the while I was getting emails about crashing motorcycles, how he was living in the shadow of a volcano, drinking beer and professing his love to the señoritas when he wasn't "learning to speak Spanish" - which seems like it was most of the time. Once Daniel got back, our father confiscated his passport until he turned 18. Killjoy.

This go around, he's in Mexico where he's staying in a hotel where one of the little girls he flirts with through AOL instant messenger works. (Ain't technology great?) He's getting a great discount because - get this - they have convinced the management that he is her long-lost cousin. How on earth he is managing to convince anyone that he is enthically hispanic is beyond me (just look at the picture!), but never let it be said that he doesn't have nerve. They've probably told the hotel that she has a crazy gringo aunt. Anything happens to him down there and I'm betting that my mother will not disabuse them of that notion.

I've only gotten one email so far, and it was a dull one. Of course, he needed to know how to get cash out of his credit card so he asked me to forward the message on to Mom and Dad so that probably has something to do with the lack of fun details. I can't wait until after they let him know how to get money - then maybe he'll send me the scoop. Whatever he may put in the messages he intends for the parents to see, I know he's not behaving as well as he lets on.

So happy Spring Break, everyone. And lots of fun wishes to mi hermanito, the Mexican!

The Elephant in the Room

2006-03-09T21:13:00.000-06:00

I talked to Kendall tonight, he's one of the funniest people I know and the only person who's gotten us both kicked out of a maternity ward(!), and I'm glad he's back. Of course, a lot of our conversation focused on the crazy stuff we did "in the good old days." At one point, we were both marvelling that everyone in our group turned out well and that it's astounding that we all made it solidly into our mid-20s. And as soon as it was out of our mouths, though, we remembered that not everyone made it.

It amazes me that talking to a good friend can make me so happy and so sad at the same time. The one thing we both agreed on: you don't get a group of friends like we had more than once. And even then it was a damn miracle.

All the same, I'm so grateful he turned up again. And I know Keith is glad to have him back too.

A Couple of Random Things

2006-03-08T21:42:00.000-06:00

* I am supremely bummed that one of my favorite people was just diagnosed with cancer. Ann Richards is smart, funny, and a real Texas treasure. Aim some prayers toward Houston and M.D. Anderson from her, okay? The world would be less interesting without her in it.

* My favorite Oscar winner is Larry McMurtry. Not only did he write The Last Picture Show (and, oh yeah, some flick called Brokeback Mountain), but he was the only winner to thank his lawyers in his acceptance speech. That wasn't quite what I meant in my last post, but hey, I'm all about recognizing a job well done.

* While thinking about the Oscar winners, did anyone notice that darn near everyone thanked their Mom? How can the rest of us compete with that? Mom, I really appreciate you and think you do a great job of, well, Momming for me. I wouldn't hold my breath on being thanked at the Oscars, though.

* I thought I was ready for it to be summer and for the weather to be great, but it turns out I was wrong. They're predicting 85 degree weather again this weekend. I got sunburned last weekend. You know, we usually joke here in Texas that we have four seasons: November, December, January, and summer. This year we're down to 2: fall, summer. I think I may be getting cheated out of a spring.

* When you're typing too fast and you accidentally title a post "A Couple of Random Thongs," it's a little disconcerting to have the person reading over your shoulder go "Man, I miss college." I don't want to know. I just hope they weren't his.

Email Happiness

2006-03-05T13:38:00.000-06:00

From: [CLIENT]
Sent: Sat 3/4/2006 3:33 PM
To: Lisa
Subject: THANKS

Lisa-

I have been trying to get things done around the house but, I wanted to stop and say "THANKS" for all of your HELP and SUPPORT.....

We would be half way where we are today on this case, if you were not involved...

Thanks Again,

[Client]

_________________________________

People like this make me love my job. I try to say thank you to people who have done a good job for me. I have written nice letters to supervisors, I have sent thank you cards, and I just generally try to acknowledge people for a job well done. And this is why. Hopefully it will make someone else feel as appreciated as I do.

I think most people feel in some way that they are underpaid, underappreciated, or that their talents go underutilized in what they do. Everybody will want to do a good job for you if you do your part to remind them that you appreciate it.

Random Trivia

2006-03-04T07:13:00.000-06:00

Weird fact of the day: Cats will not eat anything that they can't smell.

I guess this is why Hush wants "new" dry food all the time - the smell hasn't worn off.

For what it's worth, this entire post was a shameless pretense for putting a picture on here for some color. I am still really enjoying my new camera so I might as well put it to use.

Shot in the Foot By A Job Well Done

2006-03-02T14:00:00.000-06:00

I don't know if it ever made my "to do before 30" list(s) I've posted here before, but one of these days I'm going to go to the Kentucky Derby. It looked like the stars were aligned for me not only to go this year, but to be completely reimbursed for the trip. We had depositions scheduled in Kentucky for March but we were going to move them back a couple months and make it out around Derby time.

Just my luck though, we scared the other side enough so that they settled the case. Yeah, yeah, it's good for our clients, but I never get to have any fun. So my non-deductible, non-reimbursable, non-defrayed trip will probably come another year. Before I'm 30.

A Little Hormonal

2006-03-02T09:03:00.000-06:00

My friend Kendall called this morning! He's the proud father of a three-week old little boy and things around his house are, well, a little nuts. I asked how his wife was doing, and all he told me was "Last night she was standing in the middle of the bed, her head was spinning around, and she was spitting pea soup."

Poor guy. Hope it passes quickly.

Mercy Me

2006-02-22T19:56:00.000-06:00

Do you know how some competitive sports require good opponents in order to really work? Like tennis - it is a fact that you will play better tennis against someone who challenges your abilities rather than a rank beginner. You'll hit better shots, you'll be pushed farther, and your game will be elevated by the caliber of the competition. If, on the other hand, you play against a first-timer - one who hits soft balls, imprecise shots, without much speed or challenge - it's harder to play a good game yourself because you have less to work with.

Lawyering is like that too. Against someone who is smart and tough, it is easier to perform well. And the inverse is also true - against someone who just doesn't get it, defending or prosecuting a suit will be ten times harder because you have to wade through all of the stupid stuff, which is just clutter, to make sure that the real issues appear before the court.

It's like in that movie Clueless, where Alicia Silverstone gives a class presentation on Haitian (pronounced "Haiti-an") refugees where the main thrust of her argument revolves around garden party, some uninvited guests, and the fact that it does not say R.S.V.P. on the Statute of Liberty. The classmate who is supposed to present the opposition goes "How can I respond to that?" It's just so far off the mark that a response seems impossible.

Opposing counsel in a case I've got is like that. Over the past couple months, I've been trying to figure out whether he is dim, lazy and ignorant, or intentionally does not work or play well with others. He takes legal theories which are so far off that even a first-year law student would understand why they are completely inapplicable and then he briefs them for pages on end. This of course requires me to do unnecessary research to find case law pointing out how far off the mark he truly is - a pointless waste of time and money. And he's done this so many times that I am strongly leaning away from thinking he's difficult and strongly leaning towards the opinion that this man is simply not fit to practice law.

I get phone calls asking me what papers I've sent him say (he could try reading them). I get emails where he tries to trick me into waiving procedural rules ("will you waive all of your objections in next week's deposition" is going to get back a resounding "heck no" each time). I got a 90-page motion, via fax (considered impolite - something of that length should be emailed and sent by courier or dropped in the mail), which is completely ridiculous. He overlooks the single issue that he should be concentrating on in order not to lose and just parties it up with the Haiti-ans.

We have a hearing in a couple weeks which should, if the judge is paying attention, end this case. I can't wait. It will be nice to focus on the next items on my docket, where I have worthy adversaries. Too many more like this guy and I'm afraid I'll get dumber.

Wish me luck. Or better yet, wish me patience. I could use it now.

It's All Good

2006-02-20T16:21:00.001-06:00

I am having one of those amazing days where I absolutely love my job and all is right in my world. And even better, I seem to be having these days more often. I have no way to express this to the cosmos (or more practically my clients and co-workers), but I feel an excess gratitude on this Monday afternoon. I hope each of you is having a day like this.

I'm not sure, but I think this may have something to do with cleaning out all closets and cupboards in my house this weekend.

Legal Genius

2006-02-16T16:59:00.000-06:00

The managing partner of my firm has a toy that is making me positively green with envy. Yup, he has his very own Ball O' Justice sitting right there on his desk!

What, pray tell, is a B.O'J. I hear you ask? Why it's your very own no-assembly-required, batteries-totally-unnecessary tool to master the legal system!
(Okay, so maybe it's more like a magic 8 ball)

I asked a question yesterday, only to be told that the evidence was inconclusive. Apparently yesterday was a bad day for me to argue a summary judgment motion. Today, however, it told me that it bills by the quarter hour - reminding me that I do too and so I had probably better get back to work. Maybe that's why it sits on the managing partner's desk.

(Some Uninteresting Thoughts On) The New Math

2006-02-15T18:23:00.000-06:00

I was fiddling around on an insurance website, just to get a quick and dirty idea of how much it would cost me to insure a second car. Now I understand that these calculators aren't focused on giving you a precision quote. If I called up my insurance agent and he gave me the exact same price for my policy that the anonymous website gave me, I would be absolutely shocked and also pretty ticked off that all of the things that make me a good and responsible driver (at least as far as the actuarial tables are concerned) weren't being taken into account.

Well, this calculator has me stumped. If I purchased the new car and only insured it - whether I sold my truck or just gave it to the first person I saw on the street - the price it gave me is more than double what it would cost to insure them both. How on earth do they figure this? I would expect insuring them both to cost a little more than just one, not so extremely the other way around.

I could park my truck, never drive it again, and still save more than half on car insurance. How the heck does that work? If anyone can explain this to me, I'd love to hear.

Hearts & Kisses

2006-02-14T15:43:00.000-06:00

Ah, February 14th! Cupid's floating around, I have been plied with chocolate all day, and for the first time in a long time, Lance Armstrong's single again.

Happy Valentine's all!

I-R-O-N-Y

2006-02-13T15:48:00.000-06:00

Remember, children: Guns don't shoot people, Dick Cheney shoots people.

Fallout

2006-02-02T16:15:00.000-06:00

This morning I was talking to a guy on my way to work about Tuesday night's State of the Union address. Jeez, Louise did I have things right over a year ago.

Flashback!

The time: November 2, 2004.
The place: outside the Florida capitol in Tallahassee.
The props: a John Kerry placard and a backpack.
The action: screaming "WE LOVE FREEDOM, NOT HALLIBURTON!"

Yup, still holds true today. I think we may have ended up with the best president money could buy. But what I wouldn't give for one who couldn't be purchased.

(I know, dream on.)

In Response

2006-01-31T21:28:00.000-06:00

I'm not going to comment on the State of the Union, it won't do me any good. However I have a response to the Democratic response. I understand...that it became standard...for politicians to...speak in broken statements. Bill Clinton brought this cadence to prominence and he did it with such enthusiasm and gravitas in turns that he did it well. Heck, the guy never needed a segue.

Now I'm sure that Gov. Tim Kaine is a great guy. Heck, he's a Democrat who won Virginia. If you told me he could part the Chesapeake a la Moses, I wouldn't question you much. But the man has no Elvis. A response which should have been passionate, discussing what's going right and what's wrong that we can fix, the subject matter lends itself to emotional embellishment. We are the party of silver-tounged trial lawyers. Instead we get Skippy, who sounds just like that guy in the driver's ed filmstrips explaining how the left turn is your friend. The content was there, and there is no reason the entire party shouldn't have been crying "Preach on, brother."

I'm disappointed. But not nearly as disappointed as I am in the apparent disconnect between the Executive branch perception and reality. I think Skippy is disappointed too, and all I can tell him is to preach it, brother. Let people know how you feel. It's the only chance we've got.

Lost and Found

2006-01-30T20:30:00.000-06:00

After college, my group of friends pretty much scattered to the winds. I've stayed close to some of them - Keith, Charlie, Justin when he was around - but others, people I really loved, got lost.

The last time I saw Kendall was Justin's funeral, and then it was sort of a fluke that we found him. After that weekend we knew where he was for a couple of months but then he disappeared again. Tonight, however, Keith ran into the father of a guy we knew, and the guy knew where we could find Kendall.

Kendall was a wild man when we knew him. Now he's married with a baby on the way. The absolute last thing I would have expected. But then again, Keith is married with a baby. I guess it goes to show that you never can tell.

I called Kendall and realized just how much I miss him and everyone else. It has been so long - we now measure things in years instead of months or seasons - but I am so unbelievably happy that he wasn't lost for good. So happy that I feel like crying.

Another good friend of ours, Kirk, is getting married in June. I'm looking forward to the wedding, if for no other reason that it will get everyone together again. I like the friends I have now, but there are very few people that I feel like are just an extension of who I am. It'll be great to have that feeling back, if only for a weekend this summer.

Oral Fixations

2006-01-27T11:55:00.000-06:00

My boss, whom I absolutely adore, eats paper. Sitting in his office, in the middle of a conversation, he tears off a strip of post-it note, rolls it like a joint, rips off half, and tucks it in his lip. It's more than a little disconcerting.

I can't tell what vice he's substituting for. He's commonly seen pestering his secretary to quit smoking so I don't think its that. I can't see him toking up or taking a dip. I'm guessing that he grew up chewing on grass/hay.

All I know is that if he spits out paperclips I'll be impressed.

Text Messaging

2006-01-25T21:27:00.000-06:00

K: i love you and im having fun and i miss him

L: I know. Me too.

End of the Christmas Season

2006-01-21T23:52:00.000-06:00

Even though my tree has been down for over three weeks now, today was the last day of Christmas for me. After a month delay (it was a busy month), I finally gave my last present today and it just so happened that it was the one I was most excited about giving so it was like Christmas all over again.

I love giving surprise gifts. If you pay attention to people around you, often they will mention something they really want - either something they wouldn't get for themselves, something they can't find, something they lost that they wished they hadn't. The key to getting a great gift is to listen, and when someone mentions something like that, keep it in mind.

A dear friend of mine mentioned way back in September that he was looking for a specific book - it was only in print for about a year in the late 70s, he'd only ever seen one copy but it wasn't for sale, and if I ever came across one I was to let him know. Three weeks after that conversation, after much searching, I found a copy and bought it. I've been holding on to it ever since.

Though it may sound really corny, the look on his face opening it was the best thing for me. Most people expect gifts they receive to be generic, as if they could be given to any other friend. I like seeing the reaction when someone is surprised by something thoughtful that in a million years they wouldn't have expected to get or really expected you even to remember.

I appreciate gifts other people give me, but I like giving gifts like this even more. Too bad inspiration doesn't strike more often.

Everyday Concerns

2006-01-20T09:07:00.000-06:00

Do you have any idea the weird thoughts that sometime go through my head? Like today. Here I am, sitting and being a productive member of the legal profession, and out of the blue it occurs to me that I couldn't go skiing this weekend if I wanted to because three years ago I lent my goggles to an ex-boyfriend who never gave them back. Never mind that it's 70 degrees and flat here. Never mind that I don't have time to hop a plane and go someplace snowy this weekend. I still have to be worried that I don't have snow goggles in case I might need them.

This Just In

2006-01-12T17:31:00.000-06:00

Today I sat down and, really for the first time, answered the old "desert island" question.

If I were stuck on a desert island and could only have one creature comfort from home, what would it be? Turns out I may be marooned but not crunchy - I would take a razor so I could shave my legs.

Probably more than you wanted to know.

Ruining the Effect

2006-01-07T21:36:00.000-06:00

Weakness: being told "You know, you're beautiful when you're mad." On me, it does precisely what it is designed to do, and I smile.

Dammit.

From Experience

2006-01-05T23:38:00.000-06:00

Each day I learn something new. Today it was that there is no graceful way to eat crab claws at a nice restaurant. Halfway through I unconditionally surrendered and called myself finished.

Nervous Energy

2006-01-03T18:52:00.000-06:00

The jitters you may have about talking to your boss about being paid more lettuce for your work certainly do go away after you wait for him to get off a two-hour series of ten-minute phone calls.

Let's hope they don't come back once he's done.

Good Old-Fashioned Ingenuity

2005-12-28T07:47:00.000-06:00

I have to explain the picture in this post, otherwise you'll never guess.

My dad, Bear, is one of the most practical people I know - and occasionally also one of the most forgetful. Those who have ever ransacked my cupboards for seasonings know that I'm allergic to black pepper. It would have made me a cheap date in the middle ages, but in this century it's just a pain in the tush for my dad to remember he can't cook with it when I'm home. So sure enough, Christmas morning I walked through the kitchen just in time to see him peppering the prime rib he was fixing to put in the oven. Bear saw me and immediately realized he needed to remedy the situation.

Now I've asked a lot of people over the past couple days how they would de-pepper a piece of meat. I personally would have wiped it off with a damp cloth. Others would have just washed the meat. But not Bear. He vacuumed it off. Yes. Vacuumed.

No mere dustbuster for him, Bear grabbed the Hoover and the hose attachment and went to work. Mom was too stunned to stop him. Then she was laughing too hard to try.

They're so cute at that age, aren't they?

On Gratitude

2005-12-27T20:50:00.000-06:00

At a Christmas party a couple of weeks ago, I had a conversation with Keith's wife (with his prior permission). After she had told several friends of mine how much she disliked me and how dismayed she was that they had invited me to their Christmas party, I was more than a little put out. So we had the "we-don't-have-to-be-friends-but-your-husband-is-one-of-my-best friends-so-I-plan-on-making-it-very-hard-for-you-to-dislike-me" talk. Apparently it didn't work.

I didn't want to upset her with the gifts I gave this year, but I wanted to give their kid some cool gifts and Keith wanted a book. I didn't want it to look like I was trying to buy her off (I would if I thought it would work) so I went the thoughtful route instead. She likes Christmas ornaments, she has a thing for giraffes, okay. A pretty giraffe ornament was wrapped and waiting for her.

Keith said she liked it until she found out it was from me. As it turns out, it's a good thing I left the tags off the gifts for the baby. Keith says she thinks they are the neatest thing ever but that she'd hate them if she knew from whence they came. I understand that thank you is the traditional response to any gift, but her outright disdain sort of offends me. I feel like telling her that I'm a permanent fixture - she may be as well, but then again she could just as easily be gone in a few years - but I don't. After all, I'm being nice.

But I wish, even if it were through clenched teeth, that she would say thanks. She doesn't even have to mean it, but I would appreciate even an attempt at civility on her part.

'Tis the Season

2005-12-22T20:36:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas, all!

Catch Up

2005-12-20T23:40:00.000-06:00

Things have been so crazy lately, it seems like forever since I've gotten a minute to myself, much less time to blog.

Tonight, however, I found the time to go eat Vietnamese food (or as Keith calls it, "Vietnamese people," don't ask me why). I love going to this little place in the Asian part of town. There is zero ambience, I can't get anyone to go with me, and it allows people to smoke. Despite all of this, I adore the place.

I have never seen another non-asian person in there. I am the only person who only speaks English and I know this because no one else speaks it there. I can never understand a word in any conversation around me, but it's almost as much fun making up my own version of what's going on. Great people watching.

Anywho...

I'm really looking forward to Christmas and only adding to this anticipation is the fact that one of my MIA friends has resurfaced. I've known Heather since we were about eight years old. The last time I saw her was when I was in her wedding two and a half years ago, after which she promptly moved to Ithaca, NY where hubby enrolled in grad school. Well, the marriage didn't take and I knew that she had returned to Austin but no one had seen hide nor hair of her. But Austin, despite its size, really is a pretty small town. Eventually you'll run into everyone you know.

At any rate, Heather turned up. I think her family is living in California at the moment, so I issued an invitation through the person who ran into her for Heather to spend Christmas with my family. This won't be the first time.

A few years ago she had seen me running through the Austin airport but couldn't catch my attention. She knew I'd be at my parents house on Christmas Eve so she called then to catch up. Her family was off doing Christmas without her, and I can't let anyone spend Christmas Eve eating a sandwich alone. As I remember, we ate turkey and then went out for ice cream. This year, I think we'll skip the ice cream. As I remember, that was an awfully cold idea.

Can't wait to see her.

In fun stuff, I got a new camera since my other one decided it no longer loves me. It's great - it takes movies, awesome pictures, and has a gabillion megapixels. Now, if only I could figure out how to fit the memory stick into my computer... (okay, quit laughing at me).

And at work we're doing Secret Santa. I have one of the partners, and it's killing him that he can't figure out who it is giving him gifts. Yesterday he went around thanking everyone in the office for the toy he got, hoping someone would crack. Today I (and everyone else) got an email thanking me for today's gift and telling me he caught me on camera when I snuck into his office this morning to leave it on his desk. I just wrote back, "Nice try, but I'm not it." He has now, I kid you not, begun taking writing samples from everyone in the office since yesterday's gift came with a post-it note. I readily offered up my sample because I know what he doesn't: I asked the receptionist to deliver the gift and it's her writing. Oooh do I love Christmas!

Professional One-Liners

2005-12-08T17:38:00.000-06:00

"Defendant has apparently sprung a leak and begun spewing Latin."

I got to put that in a brief today (yes, another one) in response to a Defendant who cited so many random legal theories in its defense that you really have to wonder if the lawyer knows what they all mean. I had to look up several in my copy of "Essential Latin for Lawyers" and not a single one was even close to applicable. We'll see if my little joke makes it through the revision process, but you've got to have something in there to keep the judges entertained. It's definitely catchy.

On a related note, someone teased me once that law school would make me dull. "You'll tell jokes that no one else understands. The punchlines will all be in Latin!" he crowed. I guess I just tell that to let you know that I hope you find this as amusing as I do, but I'll understand if you don't.

But at least my joke isn't in Latin.

Hush

2005-12-08T15:32:00.000-06:00

She doesn't normally look this evil.

If you really want to have fun, play count the toes.

Let it Snow

2005-12-07T12:09:00.000-06:00

My brief is done, I get a break, life is good.

Right now all of the women in my office are hoping that they'll release us early on account of the inclement weather we're expecting. Now those of you in colder climes aren't going to be impressed, but we're expecting a chance of snow today. Accumulations are possible up to 1/4 of an inch!

Such dangerous weather requires everybody in town to talk of nothing but the weather, go drive somewhere to have a winter war story, and close down the schools. Any amount of ice or snow is enough to just shut the State of Texas down. It's good times.

When I was in high school, they used to have us stay home if it was too cold out. If the weather wasn't going to get above 32F, school was cancelled. I'm sure there are some people in, say, South Dakota who would laugh their butts off at this if they weren't already frozen.

I thought about calling in cold to work today, but decided to go out in the midst of our winter weather anyway. Apparently I'm feeling brave.

Procrastination

2005-12-06T01:09:00.000-06:00

I find it somewhat comforting that in the not-so-distant past (law school), I would have absolutely panicked at the idea of having two days to write a brief. It means I'm a little more sure of myself, a little more comfortable with what I do, that I can write one overnight and still have time to procrastinate.

Okay, less blogging, more writing. I'm only about halfway through.

P.S. Why is the legal profession the only one where you can write something roughly the length of a novel and they call it a brief?

The In-Crowd

2005-12-05T21:53:00.000-06:00

It has occurred to me that I'm not as laid back as I like to think that I am. It turns out that there are actually people I don't like. Not as in "I hope you die" don't like, but more "if an alien came and abducted you, I wouldn't mind so much as long as they treat you nicely."

Katie Couric makes the list. So do Matt Lauer, Tom Delay, Suze Orman (heck if I know why, probably because she is so understanding of people who put themselves into debt participating in pyramid schemes), Martha Stewart, Camille Paglia, Rush Limbaugh, Antonin Scalia, Mister Rogers, William Shatner, selected ex-boyfriends, the newscaster on channel 8, the weatherman on channel 5, Meryl Streep, and Clarence Thomas. Ann Coulter has a class to herself.

On the other hand, I absolutely adore - and simply could not live without (even though some are technically dead) - Walter Cronkite, Carl Kasell, John Sharp, Julia Child, Judith Martin (Miss Manners), Bill Clinton, Molly Ivins, Bob Hope, John Cusack, selected ex-boyfriends, Craig Biggio, L.M. Boyd, Katharine Hepburn, Steve Jobs, anybody at the Pixar film studios, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, Anna Quindlen, and former Governor Ann Richards. This week, Vince Young is likewise in a class by himself.

Whoopsy-Daisy!

2005-12-05T19:05:00.000-06:00

I know I shouldn't laugh, but this is the funniest thing that's happened to me today.

A couple weeks ago, I got new throw pillows for the couch. They're the same color as the old ones but they are covered in silk which makes them a little slippery. The cat, unfortunately, hasn't figured this out yet. She keeps trying to lay on them and winds up slipping clean off the couch.

The first time it was funny. The third time it was hilarious. In theory she should land on her feet, but Theory has obviously never met my klutzy little companion.

Wheels

2005-12-04T11:53:00.000-06:00

Oh good gracious do I hate car shopping.

My faithful little red truck is getting on in mileage, and I've been thinking about a new car for over a year now. I've finally gotten past the thinking stage and started test driving cars, but pushy salesmen are my newest pet peeve. Guys who were helpful and informative when I walk in and say "Okay, I'm considering several other cars but go ahead and sell me on this one" turn overly aggresive once I say "thanks, I'll think about it." I tell them at the outset that I'm not buying a car today and that I still have decisions to make. But each and every one has brought out a manager (or in one noticeable case, two managers and the owner of the dealership) to ask me "what can I do to get you in this car today." And then they don't take no for an answer.

I finally started telling them that to get me in that car right then, no more time for decisions, it would have to be for half price. When you say that, their eyes kind of glaze over.

Since this is likely to be my last non-mommymobile for awhile, I've been looking at fun cars. Roadsters, sporty cars, ones that go "vroom" and make me downshift at 80 mph. Given how much this whole shopping process is wearing me out, though, I may just drive my little truck clean into the ground. But I was planning on keeping the truck. I can't see hauling Christmas trees, sailboats, furniture, or really anything other than a purse, a suitcase, and maybe the cat in this:

Then again, my average daily commute is about 7 miles round-trip. Maybe I'll skip the car and buy a new pair of roller skates.

Mercy

2005-12-01T23:09:00.000-06:00

Keith -and anyone else with small children - owes me a big thank you. I have done all of my kid Christmas shopping and I am pleased to tell you that I steadfastly avoided buying any toy that makes noise on its own. They're all imagination, not battery, powered. I will accept your adoration now.

(Fair warning: If you're not nice to me in the coming year, it'll be fingerpaints and a tambourine next year. They require creatvity and imagination too.)

Reflections on the Mortal Coil

2005-12-01T21:11:00.000-06:00

"I should tell you that my partner, (John Doe), was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer about 4 weeks ago. It was a shock. Last week, (John's) doctors told him that he's got 2 weeks to live. Another shock. All very sad. I'm performing triage on some of (John's) litigation and other matters. I apologize for delay in responding to your e-mail.

Rest assured that all work is going forward professionally and on time."
____________________

This was in an email that I got from our local counsel in Atlanta today and my reaction to it amazes me. My absolutely first thought was wondering how on earth John would wrap up things at the office. What the hell is wrong with me?

I'm reminded of that old saying that no one's tombstone says that they wished they spent more time at the office. If I had two weeks left, I would spend each and every minute of it doing the things I have always wanted to do. I would take everyone I loved around the world. I would slow dance each night, eat nothing but cheesecake, and probably never sleep. Why waste a single minute with so few left? I would NOT go into the office. Who's going to sue me for malpractice when I'm dead? Instead I would spend every moment telling the people who matter to me that I love them. I would call people who have wronged me and tell them that I forgive them. I would buy lavish gifts for my friends as something to remember me by. I would feed ducks, hold babies, sit in the sunshine, and kiss every handsome man who passed by.

The part of the email that bothered me most, though, was the last line. The guy who sent it has been John's friend for twenty years. I would want those around me to say "to heck with professionalism, we're going to have to postpone things, I have to spend time saying goodbye."

Losing my friend Justin a few years ago was incredibly sudden. One day he was here, talking about the new job he was starting, and literally the next day he was gone. If I found out I had two weeks - or even two days - left I would do all of the things I wish he had the opportunity to do. I would make amends and say goodbye.

I feel horrible for John, but in a way he's lucky. He has the opportunity that so many others don't get. He can make sure that his last words to people most important to him are "I love you." In the meantime, he and his family are in my prayers.

Conundrum

2005-11-29T16:47:00.000-06:00

How, on earth, can you tell whether a cat is lethargic? They sleep and do nothing all day anyway. How do the vets figure out if it's not normal?

Scratch the Cat, Find a Fever

2005-11-28T20:51:00.000-06:00

I see a trip to the veterinarian in my near future. My poor cat, Hush, is sick.

Every morning, Hush wakes me up at about 5:45 to let her go outside. Today she didn't ask and I therefore overslept. When I did get up, I immediately dished out some food for her. Instead of running to eat like she normally does (and it shows - a friend of mine calls her "Tubworth"), I carried her to her dish and she wasn't interested. And when I got home, she was asleep under the dustruffle of the bed. The only time she hangs out there is when she doesn't feel well or when it's thundering, and today there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

I feel so bad for her. She's opinionated, irritable, demanding, and insistent about what she wants. Today she was none of these things, nor yesterday for that matter. In short, she was well behaved and all-around just not my cat. It's no fun to be sick, and even less fun when you can't tell anyone what's wrong.

So off to the vet we'll go. That's not entirely bad though. He's pretty cute.

Measure Twice, Buy Once

2005-11-28T19:52:00.000-06:00

Next year, I am not allowed to buy any Christmas tree taller than I am. Please remind me when that time comes.

Last year, my tree was 8'2" - a great height for a Christmas tree unless you, like me, have 8' ceilings. So this year I decided on a shorter tree, and how I wound up with one that was 8'7" is beyond me.

I am now the proud owner of a small handsaw (which caused the Home Depot guy to laugh himself silly), an 8 inch tree trunk paperweight, and one of the prettiest Christmas trees you've ever seen - without a star on top.

I would post pictures, but my camera and I are on the outs at the moment. Hopefully next week it'll like me again.

Sea Urchins

2005-11-16T07:33:00.000-06:00

It would appear that winter has arrived. After joking last weekend that the sundress I was wearing in the 85-degree weather was my "fall wardrobe," I guess I deserve this. But I am cold and as anyone who knows me will tell you, I get crabby when I'm cold.

Last weekend I went down to Austin and had a ball. It seems like I was absolutely every place over the weekend - from little dives with way too strong drinks (lesson learned, thankyou) to the lobby of the Four Seasons (I'm not sure how that one came about either) - and like always, it makes me miss it a bunch.

Saturday night, however, I decided to take it easy. My mother is a poker-playing fiend when she can find people willing to get into a game and with four of us in the house, we played for hours. Playing anything with my mother is kind of risky, though. First, she's lucky as all get out. Bear won't play backgammon with her any more because of this. Second, she's shameless when she bluffs.

Once playing the spelling game with my father and older brothers, my mother claimed that she should win on the basis of some word or another - everyone challenged her and she told them all that she had just spelled the name of a sea urchin. A trip to the dictionary let them know she was not quite on the up and up about that. On the other hand, when she learned to play Scrabble with Bear she spelled "roux" and racked up all sorts of points by using the x. My father, wise to her wily sea-urchin-claiming ways challenged this and obviously lost. He has since become a gourmet cook and I'm not sure that these two events are unrelated.

All through Saturday's poker game we would look at my mom square in the eye and ask "sea urchin or roux?" It's not like it helped - she bluffs with the best of them, even when laughing herself silly.

I can't wait to see my family again over Thanksgiving. If it's anything like last year (which she missed), mom will be able to scare up another poker game after dinner. If she's lucky, her mother won't play because as good as my mother is, my grandmother can clean her clock at cards. It's kind of fun to watch.

Chasing Darwin

2005-11-11T10:08:00.000-06:00

I have an undeniable soft spot for Pat Robertson. While these are words I never thought I would utter, his level of general goofiness has gone from mortifying to having high entertainment value. At the moment, he's warning the members of a Pennsylvania town that they have voted God out of office when they replaced a school board advocating "intelligent design." I hadn't realized that He met the residency requirements to make it on the ballot in the first place.

First of all, I thought that we had settled the whole evolution question the better part of a century ago. I guess I was wrong. However I find this advocation of "intelligent design" distressing for another reason: those teachers inclined to actually teach it well are precisely those that will skim over evolution.

In high school, my brother Daniel got sent to a Baptist military boarding school the year that he took biology. By the end of the year he could make a "creation ball" but the full extent of what he knew about evolution amounted to the law of the jungle. Once he hit college, he asked me to explain to him exactly what evolution is. Luckily he's a history major, but it scares me to think that a generation of American scientists may find themselves in the same boat - not knowing a thing about the most accepted origination theory until they reach their baccalaureate studies.

In the meantime, I hope every parent takes their child(ren) aside and ensures that the school system is teaching them what they need to know. Whether it is evolution, civics, history, art, languages or grammar. In this era of "teaching to the test" and "no child left behind," I believe parents, mentors and role models ought to ensure that today's kids get a full education. It's just a shame that they don't seem to be able to get it in school.

Fair Warning!

2005-11-10T15:05:00.000-06:00

This is just pure evil...I love it!

Picture Post Test

2005-11-09T09:51:00.000-06:00

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

2005-11-09T07:31:00.000-06:00

My mother gives me very nice, very generous gifts which I never seem to receive because they require me to pick them out. Housewares are popular, and I believe we are now in arrears by a sofa, a set of dishes, and an armoire. No, wait - strike the armoire. I found one and bought it last weekend!

I love the armoire I picked out, and since it came from an unfinished furniture store I have been sanding, staining, and varnishing to my little heart's content. The finished product will be a color I affectionately refer to as "Irish Setter" although the label on the can says something a lot more boring and a lot less helpful. What the heck does "Classic Oak" mean anyway? Oak was the color it was when I got it.

There have been a couple of mishaps, though. First, I didn't think about how, precisely, I would be able to move this armoire from the truck actually into my house. Luckily I stumbled upon a neighbor who didn't speak enough English (Russian, yes; English, no) to refuse my pathetic plea to help me move it. The problem was that he didn't realize that he could move a lot faster walking forward than I could moving backward and ran me over with the darn thing. I am now black and blue, possibly the only person I know to be attacked by her new furniture.

The other problem is that due to a lack of workspace, I have been staining this piece in the living room. As a girl whose father wouldn't let her drink grape juice until she had graduated college because the house was carpeted, this adds a nice element of rebellion to the project. Unfortunately I can't pass the armoire without doing something to it - another coat, sanding a rough spot, something. Accordingly I have arrived to work each morning with slightly sore fingers from where I accidentally sanded them while trying to get out the door. As I told one of the partners at the office, I don't think of them as abraded, merely well exfoliated.

In the meantime I have been getting rid of furniture in order to fit the armoire in. The desk will be going to some foreign exchange students who heretofore have been using sawhorses and plywood. The desk chair has come to my office as it is a lot prettier and more comfortable than my firm-issued tush rester. And when this is over I'll have enough room left in the living room to move the couch to the other side of the living room, shift the piano against a different wall, move the filing cabinet and all the lamps, and fit in my Christmas tree this year. And truthfully, that is what spurred this project. I got the piano in January and it goes right where the tree fits. I can't get rid of the piano but I had nowhere to move it. And I just couldn't bear the thought of not having a Christmas tree this year.

If you're looking for me this week, just follow the trail of sawdust.

Shhhh!!!!

2005-11-02T12:32:00.000-06:00

I am probably the last person in the free world to find this, but there is a site callled Post Secrets and I have to admit, I'm hooked.

The premise is simple: you make a postcard out of whatever you feel like, and on that postcard you tell one thing about yourself that you've never told anyone before. It's completely anonymous and you have to be truthful.

Some are silly, some are terrifying, and some are just a little odder than normal. But each of them is, in it's own way, a flat out emotional experience. There is something very powerful about telling a secret about yourself to the world, even under the cover of anonymity. There is also something powerful in being told that secret, and realizing that other people go through the same things you do or have some of the same weird impulses. Some are funny, some are heartbreaking, and some, like the one here, just have an indescribable sweetness to them. A quality I can't describe by any other term than veritas.

The secrets change each week and some are better than others, but it's definitely worth seeing.

Six Degrees

2005-11-01T19:11:00.000-06:00

This evening, one of the lawyers I work with, Bryon, stuck his head in my office and asked me if I knew anyone named Priscilla in Champaign, IL. I said yes without thinking because it sounded right but then it hit me - of course I know Priscilla! I read her blog and she reads mine! Lo and behold, Priscilla is buddies with Sam the Possible Duck's mom (better known as Ann or, to me, Bryon's wife). Whaddayaknow!

I have long been convinced that this is a very small world which is a big part of why I try to be nice to (and about) everybody. I guess this is just further proof. I'm pretty sure, however, that Priscilla will get a kick out of turning out to be the focal point for the universe this particular time.

So yes, Priscilla, it is the same Sam. And as far as I can tell, he is every bit as bright and funny as Ann makes him out to be.

Checking In

2005-10-30T12:48:00.000-06:00

I've been sick all weekend, so I haven't really felt like blogging. But I just wanted to drop a line to let everyone know that I'm still alive. Not very happy about it at the moment, but still here.

Does He Walk Like A Duck?

2005-10-26T05:50:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I met Sam. He's 3 (and a half, he'll tell you) and belongs to one of the lawyers here in my office.

As he was walking down the hallway I stopped and introduced myself, asking what was in the basket he was carrying. "A duck, " he told me seriously. "His name is Sam."

I was told, when I asked how to tell the difference between boy Sam and duck Sam, that duck Sam wears feathers and boy Sam wears a Batman shirt.

"What if boy Sam wore feathers too? Then how would you tell?" I asked. This proved too much for Sam, who got kind of worried for a moment, then loudly answered back "Quack!"

I'm not sure Sam's mother was amused at how easily I could convince her kid he might be a duck.

Happy Trails

2005-10-25T14:59:00.000-05:00

Today was the day to say vaya con Dios to Grant the Republican. He's done, he's off, he's outta here. It's been a fun few years of lively debate and friendship. And here are a few of the things that he's taught me along the way:

1) You can take a week off right before the bar exam, go to Disneyworld, and pass with a couple of points to spare. (I still wouldn't recommend this course)

2) It takes more than two people to a pitcher of margaritas if you're going to make it through a criminal law lecture. First year of law school, our class had an hour break between contracts and crim law on Fridays so we'd go to lunch across the street at a little mexican restaurant. That hour was never long enough for us to get our food before we would have to leave, but it took us the better part of the year to determine what the proper person/margarita ratio was. I figured we had missed the day Grant kept poking me and giggling in class. In fact, I was worried about him driving home afterward. But yes, at least 3 people to a pitcher.

3) It's not what you know, it's who you know. I was better academically, but who got us jobs? Definitely who you know.

4) The City of Dallas does not like it when you put toilets on your front yard as a political statement (wow is his wife understanding!). I got to fight that particular battle for him with the mayor and the city attorney's office, leading to what Grant claims is one of my best lines ever: "The First Amendment's a b!&%*, isn't is?" Although I didn't like what he was saying, I do support his right to say it. Come to think of it, that's how we're still friends although we're so different.

There's more, but I'm not sure the statute of limitations has run on some of these stories and lessons. Here's hoping for years more. Good luck, Grant!

My Littlest Buddy

2005-10-23T21:42:00.000-05:00

Keith came to town this weekend and brought Brayden with him. Wow, at 4 months he's huge!

Keith's sister Bridgette wanted to take him to a pumpkin patch for a picture session, but the timing didn't work out. The norther that blew in foiled her plans. Instead she decided to set up a fall theme in the dining room. Although she wanted to dress him in costume, the general consensus was that she shouldn't push her luck.

I had a great time playing with him. He's a pretty laid-back, happy guy. He got a little wiggly but settled down once he got some food in his tummy.

At one point we were walking around the living room, he pulled back, looked straight at me, flashed the biggest smile, and promptly spit up down the collar of my shirt. Missed the burp cloth entirely (actually, he pulled it out of the way first).

Aren't little kids great?

When I See Us Together in a Photograph

2005-10-21T11:24:00.000-05:00

My morning started out when I accidentally sugared someone else's coffee. Two blue cups on the counter in front of me, and the partner who had come back to retrieve his didn't notice. If it was actually sugar, I might have told him (who knows who's a diabetic) but as it was the pink stuff, I didn't. Everybody's on edge today I don't want to add fuel to the fire by messing with the coffee.

I was thankful for the coffee because I was up late last night, almost by accident. I was going to pop in a DVD to play while I cleaned the house but I couldn't find the one I was looking for. So, for reasons I still don't know, I watched home movies that my daddy transferred to DVD awhile back instead. And of course, this has gotten me thinking about a few things:

1) Even if you think you look more like the milkman than anyone in your family, at some point you looked almost exactly like someone else. My oldest and youngest brothers could have been twins up until the age of four, except for the fact that they're spaced 20 years apart. My other brother looked just like his six year old son does now. My father is turning into his father, and my little brother is the exact age now as my dad was in those movies. Dad is a slightly different build, but they could pass for brothers.

2) The people you take pictures of at any given time are not necessarily the people you will want pictures of later. For example, everyone has a million pictures of their kids at all ages. That's fine, that's great, that's expected. What they do not have are pictures of everyone else at the same time. The people you've taken for granted, your parents, your siblings, your spouse, are likely the people that you will want to have pictures of in the future so you can laugh about how young they look, how much different you are now than then, and remember them when they are no longer here or are no longer the same person. Don't forget to take pictures of them too. You'll get enough pictures of your kids anyway.

3) I miss video cameras that ran on film. They have a great exuberant quality about them that just doesn't quite come through on digital camcorders, probably because the lens isn't always in focus, the lighting is sometimes hit or miss, there are streaks on the film - they just look more real to me. The other benefit is that the films don't have sound. You can edit narration on to the DVD version, but it's a lot easier to remember everyone as pleasant and happy when they aren't saying something to remind you otherwise.

4) There are many people that I would have liked to meet. My father when he was younger, my grandfather when he was older, and my brothers while they were growing up. It's a little odd sometimes to remember that all of these people had entire lives before you knew them and that they change just as much as everyone else. I know the "after" people, but I would really have liked to know the "before" as well.

5) My family is not only large, it is loud, noisy, chaotic, laid-back, occasionally disorganized, open, friendly, affectionate, exuberant, charismatic and diverse. I consider myself truly blessed.

None of this is particularly navel-pondering stuff, and I specifically only watched the bookend movies - the ones taken when my brothers were born in the 1960s and the ones taken at their children's various birthdays in the last few years. I'm not sure I'm up to seeing myself as a kid again just yet. As I remember, I was rather high-maintenance.

Is it 2008 Yet?

2005-10-20T09:03:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the unoriginal post, but much to my delight, this was in my email this morning:

One sunny day in 2009, an old man approached the White House from across Pennsylvania Avenue where he'd been sitting on a park bench. He spoke to the U. S. Marine standing guard and said, "I would like to go in and meet with President Bush." The Marine looked at the man and said, "Sir, Mr. Bush is no longer President and no longer resides here." The old man said, "Okay" and walked away.

The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, "I would like to go in and meet with President Bush." The Marine again told the man, "Sir, Mr. Bush is no longer president and no longer resides here." The man thanked him and, again, just walked away.

The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same U. S. Marine, saying, "I would like to go in and meet with President Bush." The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, "Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mr. Bush. I have told you already that Mr. Bush is no longer the president and no longer resides here. Don't you understand?" The old man looked at the Marine and said, "Oh, I understand. I just love hearing it."

The Marine snapped to attention, saluted, and said, "See you tomorrow."

In Lieu of Flowers

2005-10-15T22:05:00.000-05:00

Geez, Louise! My former goal was to live a life that would end with a fascinating obituary in the New York Times. Nope, not any more. Consider me satisfied if I end up like this fabulous gentleman - I want to go down swinging, fighting the good fight.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write.

My Governor is a Jewish Cowboy? Kinky!

2005-10-15T01:41:00.000-05:00

Down here in the Great State of Texas, we are having what promises to be a jim-dandy race for gubenatorial bragging rights. There are the squabbling Republicans, a Delay-displaced Democrat, and one cigar-smoking, novel-writing, freedom-loving, (reportedly trashcan-living), ambassador of Judaism whose campaign slogan is "Why the Hell Not?" That would be the Kinkster himself. And he's running as an independent, as if we couldn't have seen that coming.

Despite some general goofiness, the Kinkster actually has some pretty decent views on where the state is and where it needs to be. The problem is that he's got an uphill battle even to get on the ticket come voting time. He has to collect 45,000+ signatures in about eight weeks, the catch being that none of the signatories may have voted in the primaries. Thus has spawned a new pledge for supporters: "I'm saving myself for Kinky."

If nothing else, his candidacy has been worth it for the campaigning. His Kinkytoon (in JibJab fashion) is fantastic. He makes his case for candidacy admirably...and despite firework-spouting menorahs, stereotypical politicians proclaiming that "Jesus es grande," and the cheerleader that will live in infamy, you can tell he's actually serious about this campaign thing. He has abandoned his campaign promise from an ill-fated run for Kerr County JP many moons ago (that he would keep Kerrville out of war with Fredericksburg) - now he's thinking on a bigger scale.

Scary as this seems, I just may vote for him. After all, why the hell not?

The Devil is in the DIY Details

2005-10-14T22:47:00.000-05:00

Damn the people who make do-it-yourself videos for Lowe's. They just make everything look so easy, completing projects in three minutes or less with everyone still smiling and on speaking terms with their assistants. Just once, I want to see someone in these tutorials cursing up a blue streak when a sink pedestal falls on their foot or the tile doesn't match up with the corner of the countertops. You know it happens. They just don't show it.

The weird part of this resentment I feel is that I'm only prospectively upset about this. Grant the Republican and I went to see the house I love again today and this time we listed everything that would have to be done to fix it up right. There is a tutorial covering almost each and every item on that list. The way I see it, Lowe's is only encouraging me to buy this house despite my reservations.

If they're going to counter my better judgment, the least they could do is be honest. I want to see just one spackling trowel thrown in frustration. Then maybe I'd believe that it really is pretty easy...most of the time.

SCOTUS Bound

2005-10-13T14:38:00.000-05:00

Harriet Miers and I went to the same law school. We were both on law review, and we both got articles published (albeit 30-some-odd years apart). The difference is that her article was "unremarkable." Mine is uncriticized - at least publicly - so far.

I have told Grant the Republican (Editor In Chief of the law review while I was on it who coincidentally purchased his house from Ms. Miers) that if 30 years from now my article gets panned while I'm going through the Supreme Court nomination process, I'm going to blame him. After all, he not only deemed it fit for publication but suggested the topic.

I figured I would give him the heads up. I wouldn't want him surprised on down the road.

Watch How You Say That, Buddy...

2005-10-13T11:28:00.000-05:00

Disch-Faulk field, home of the UT baseball team, has a new sponsor. Thanks to the University Federal Credit Union, the Longhorns will have some extra funds and their home will have a new name.

We can only hope to keep the sportscasters sober and on their toes because last night on the news came the first blunder. How hard is it to say "UFCU?" Who knows...but next spring I will apparently be cheering for the 'Horns at "F#$& U" Field.

Trial and Error

2005-10-12T07:46:00.000-05:00

My secretary is proud of herself today, particularly because she has learned to drive a stick shift. Her husband taught her. I, on the other hand, followed the trial by fire method.

I had come home from college one vacation to find that my car needed repairs. Since this was the case, my father told me to drive his truck, an extra vehicle, for the week since I was going down to South Texas and needed wheels other than roller skates. It turns out that it hadn't occurred to him that I couldn't drive a standard.

I was supposed to meet Daddy downtown for lunch at 12:30 the next day, so I figured if I left the house by 9 a.m. I could make the 7 mile trip to his office and be there on time. Scary but true, it took every bit of that time. That morning was one of the very few times I have cursed the fact that we live at the top of a hill. Let's just say that backing out of the driveway left me inching down the hill (backwards!) while I figured out how the clutch worked. But I eventually made it downtown and then made it to South Texas (thank heavens it was all highway) where I didn't drive again until it was time for me to head back home. By the end of the weekend I was actually getting pretty good. By that time I had discovered 3rd and 4th gears, since apparently I had been shifting 1, 2, 5.

To his credit, when my father discovered how I had learned to drive a standard (years later and I made sure he was in a good mood first) he blamed himself. He said it should have occurred to him that no one had taught me how before he loaned me his truck. That was one of the few car-related confessions I have made to him that didn't end with one of us mad.

My secretary's husband, on the other hand, has not been so understanding about her lessons. I'm not sure they're on speaking terms at the moment. I'm not going to ask, but it can't be too bad. After all, the land around their house is flat.

"Nobody's Home;" or What I Should Have Said

2005-10-11T21:21:00.000-05:00

What is it with me and birds here lately? Today at about 6:30 I got a knock at the front door. I figured it was the UPS guy - he usually comes about that time. Imagine my surprise to find an unwelcome ex-boyfriend holding a pigeon (making him even more unwelcome, if that were possible).

First of all, this guy, Patrick, just hasn't gotten it that it is possible for someone not to want him. It's been 10 months since I broke it off but still his last proposal was Saturday. I take it back; I don't "want to be friends," I want him to go away. So I changed tennis groups, altered my schedule so I can keep away from him, and what does he do? Stops by unexpectedly. No way was I going to let him in.

Second, what the heck was he expecting me to do about a bird with a broken wing? He should have put the bird out of it's misery. Short of that, he should have let it go to let nature run its course. Instead, he demanded the number for my veterinarian. (No way was I going to let another bird take up residence on my front porch.) After about 15 minutes of lurking, he finally went away.

I was highly ticked off by the whole episode. Patrick thought I was rude for not being more hospitable when he showed up wholly unannounced. Keith said he would have taken care of the situation if he had been around - he would have flattened Patrick. Hush the cat was highly disappointed that I turned away yet another bird.

Some days seem like they're going to be normal. It's amazing to me how the surreal can sneak up and hit you, right between the eyes, just when you think you're safe.

Just For Fun

2005-10-11T09:29:00.000-05:00

I don't really have anything to say today - too busy to say much anyway - but here is a corny joke that had me laughing for a good half an hour:

Two antennas met and married. The ceremony was nothing special but the reception was excellent.

And my word for the day: Althaiophobia (fear of marshmallows).

Happy Tuesday, all!

A Dose of Ego

2005-10-09T19:35:00.000-05:00

Everybody has something they're good at, and sometimes you just need to feel good about yourself. I guess this is my utterly shameless ego boost for the day, but I am good at the following:

1) I make people laugh. Usually not at any one else's expense.
2) I'm flexible. Literally. I can still do the splits.
3) I write a mean motion for summary judgment.
4) I'm a good kisser.
5) I can charm old people.
6) I can talk politics without offending people. They understand that even if I don't agree, I respect their position.
7) I can follow any logical argument to a ridiculous conclusion. This means I can oppose motions for summary judgment pretty well too.
8) I have a freakishly good memory.
9) I bake the world's best brownies. People have called hours after consumption solely to tell me this.
10) I know when to say no to another drink.
11) I can backhand a tennis ball with deadly accuracy.
12) I slow dance with the best of them.
13) I salsa with the best of them.
14) I make salsa with the best of them.
15) I can run miles on stubbornness alone.
16) I always use turn signals when driving.
17) Small animals and small children inexplicably love me.
18) I work really well in crisis mode. I'm more likely to freak out after I'm done dealing with something.
19) I read very quickly. And remember it all.
20) I can play the William Tell Overture on the ceiling fan.
21) I can keep secrets.

All of this may not exactly make me scintillating at cocktail parties, perpetually delightful, shapely, or statuesque. It doesn't even make me a particularly good person. But it makes me happy.

Tears in Oklahoma

2005-10-08T23:49:00.000-05:00

Today was the highlight of the week. Down here, where football is considered a valid religion (and the most fun the Southern Baptist Convention will condone), every one is thrilled that Texas beat Oklahoma and ended the five-year drought in the "Red River Wars."

I spent the game at Doug and Claire's house where Doug did NOT throw a party. You see, he's thrown a party for the game each of the past few years and his beloved 'Horns lost each time. Instead, this was a "coincidental meeting of his friends and favored companions" occurring because he left the front door unlocked. Yeah, right. Football, burgers, beer and friends...it was a party. But maybe his superstitous approach this year did some good - after all we did win.

The best part of the afternoon though was all of the kids running around the house. Doug and Claire's two boys (4 and 7), Susan's son (2 1/2) and a couple of the neighbors' kids. It's fun to see little people all excited, and this afternoon probably did just a little more to convince all of these kids that they are future UT students. The general consensus is that you've got to indoctrinate them early or else they might grow up to be Aggies.

It was a fun day and I'm glad I went to go watch the game. Of course tonight, if you go out on my front porch and listen very closely, you can hear a soft whimpering sound coming from the general direction of Oklahoma. Which, as I figure, is just how it ought to be.

Hook 'Em.

Just a Slight Obsession

2005-10-06T22:32:00.000-05:00

Keith called the house I found "pimp." My mother saw the pictures and said she'd buy it in a heartbeat. Grant the Republican thinks I ought to get a roommate for safety and make an offer ASAP. Maybe I should send all of them the neighborhood crime statistics. (Actually they're not too bad, but they're definitely not encouraging). This is the library (well, a little bit of it).

Oh The Places You'll Go

2005-10-06T11:21:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about high school lately, ever since I accidentally crashed a reunion last month. I liked high school, mostly, but I didn't keep in touch with anybody after I left. Most of them were headed across town to go to the University of Texas while I was headed across the country to William & Mary so the geography just didn't quite work out.

Well, I've started googling classmates to see what comes up, to see who has done anything noteworthy since we were seventeen. It turns out that we're actually a pretty diverse group. My classmates have become everything from doctors to Rockettes (with a few lushes in there too for good measure). Most people ended up just as I figured they would.

The least surprising find, as odd as this will sound, is that one of my best friends from back then has become a drag queen. Brant was the kid that most people liked and everybody but himself knew he was gay. You don't go around proclaiming your love for fashion design and musical theater without people thinking something is up. But it turns out that he is successful and making a living doing what he loves, which puts him way ahead of most people that I know. Plus - and I confess that this thought makes me giggle - he looks just like his mother.

I'm not too curious about the rest of my class. They were people that I knew what seems like a lifetime ago and I'm pretty sure that none of them are curious about me. But if you're in New York, go see Brant - I mean Porsche - and think about what everyone else thought you might end up becoming.

For my part, I think I have probably beaten most people's expectations. I have no doubt that my classmates figured I would still be in detention when our ten-year reunion rolled around.

The Red State Blues

2005-10-05T15:14:00.000-05:00

I have known Grant the Republican for several years now, and I am the only Democrat he will admit to liking. Most days I like him too despite his occasional tendency to gloat. Lately, however, it has been a little harder to keep my political spirits up around him. With the Texas gubenatorial election looming, the reshuffling of the Supreme Court, and new tax cuts proposed all around, I've been feeling a little down. Grant has not been helping this (his idea of trying involved inviting me to go hear Karl Rove speak last night).

I think, however, that I have found a quick fix to my funk. I got Grant a going away gift. He collects two things: (1) pictures of himself with famous Republicans and (2) signed books by famous Republicans. Although my gift doesn't quite fit in these categories, I hope he'll like it. After all, who wouldn't want a signed, 8x10 glossy of MY favorite Republican - Dan Quayle.

What a Week (And it's Only Monday)

2005-10-03T22:36:00.000-05:00

This has already been an busy week with only a tiny little bit of it behind me.

Grant the Republican, the first person I met in law school and one of my best friends here in Dallas, is leaving the firm we both work for to move to Las Vegas and work for a magician. I guess he couldn't find a circus to join. (Actually it's a great opportunity and wish him nothing but congratulations.) What makes this interesting is that he hasn't exactly told the entire firm yet, though he told some of the partners today, but he would like to make this his last week. He's been handing cases off to me so maybe they'll catch on before too long. If not, they should by the time I move into his office this weekend. In the meantime, I'm being very careful not to spill the beans to anyone who doesn't already know.

On top of this, Grant has decided that I need to buy a house. Specifically, his house. To let him know that I wasn't really interested I looked through the real estate listings here in Dallas to find pictures of a couple of other houses I could show him so he would think I had passed on his for something else. The problem is that I found the perfect house. In the least perfect neighborhood.

I love the house that I found. It's an old Victorian that was completely updated in the not-too-distant past. Huge rooms, wrap-around porches, in my price range and - here is what makes me love it - it has a library. Floor to ceiling shelves with a sliding library ladder to reach up to the top of the 12 foot ceilings. It's technically in a historic district, along the edges, but I'm pretty sure I saw a crack house down the street when we drove by it earlier (you can't see that in the picture). But Grant and I are going to an open house tomorrow anyway, glutton for punishment that I am. He's under orders to point out everything wrong with it.

On the friend front, most of my friends are married couples and they all seem to have gone a little crazy today. Of these matrimonially bound companions, I have been informed that one had a "let's just be friends" conversation with his wife, one went to his first marriage counselling session (it turns out it really is all her fault), and one told me that he and his wife enjoy an alternative lifestyle (apparently they're "swingers" - who knew?). You know, suddenly this whole being single thing seems a lot less complicated than I think I give it credit for.

And somewhere in all of this hubbub I also managed to get some work done. Now on to Tuesday, that is if I can find the energy.

Headed South

2005-10-02T20:25:00.000-05:00

Confession time: I'm not a native Dallasite. I was born and raised in Austin back when it was a relatively little town. By the time I graduated high school, the tech boom was about to hit and it just has never quite been the same since. Now Austin has suburbs. It has "Dellionaires." It has a hundred thousand out-of-work tech professionals. Their jobs have all been outsourced, but Austin is so great that no one ever wants to leave. They'd rather wait tables or work at Home Depot than go elsewhere - not that I blame them.

I got to go home this weekend to run around and just be the crazy Austin girl that I am at heart. I got to drive over the 360 bridge, easily one of the most iconic spots in town. I got to shop at funky bookstores and do my part to support local businesses. It's good for the soul to go to Austin sometime - to eat barbeque, run into people I haven't seen in years, and get back to the hill country.

One of the radio stations has been playing the same promo for years now. Ray Benson (of Asleep at the Wheel fame) proclaims in his rich baritone "It's a great day to be alive in Austin, Texas." Well Ray, I'll drink to that. That he says this during the middle of Austin's legendary rush-hour traffic in no way diminishes the sentiment.

In Dallas, the culture seems to value what a person has more than who they are. In Austin, it's what you can add to the ambience that determines your worth. "Keep Austin Weird" is more than a slogan, people live by it.

I'm sure most people feel about their hometowns the way that I feel about mine. Heck, even Dorothy missed Kansas. And though it's not the same place I grew up, Austin is still where I belong. Because it's a great place to be alive in, no matter what day it is.

Mixed Messages

2005-09-28T10:24:00.000-05:00

I needed a copy of the restaurant health department regulations for Aiken, South Carolina for work so I called up the good people in Aiken and asked them to send along a copy. I just opened the envelope to find a yellow sticky note which says "I hope that this proves helpful" and a booklet of the regulations...in Mandarin.

Apparently I may have said something that made them mad (but I hope it's just a mistake).

Women of Varying Ambition

2005-09-27T16:14:00.000-05:00

One of my grandmothers is a saint. The other, well she is a character to say the least. In her mid-80s she is still platinum blonde, she'll be the first person to tell you that her eyebrows are tattooed on (permanent makeup) and she still asks me if I need to tinkle before I leave the house. I'm 25. I think she could probably get by without asking.

To this grandmother, however, I am a worry. 25 and not married? When I was 18-20 she would scope out every new boyfriend carefully, and I think she cried over more of the break ups than I ever did. By the time I hit 21, however, she was starting to get worried that I would never get married so she took action. Every gift I've gotten from her since has had something to do with landing and/or keeping a man. Everything from the silky nightgowns to the electric mixer (after all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach).

She gave up on me entirely last year when, at 24, I graduated law school. She views the fact that I'm a lawyer as my mother's fault because Mama (another lawyer) has always been rather uppity herself. I love my grandmother, but somehow the sexual revolution managed to skip her completely (she was probably in the kitchen). Sometimes I wonder if she's heard yet that we finally got the vote.

Treasures

2005-09-26T22:47:00.000-05:00

Three years ago tonight I wrote a letter to a dear friend. In the letter I told him that I would raise my glass and drink a toast to our friendship: to laughter following bad jokes, to late night phone calls, to our various bonding experiences, and to nights talking through our lives under the stars. I ended the letter telling him that I loved him, sealed the envelope, and addressed it. Three days later I slipped it under the wilting flowers in the cemetery, expecting it to be thrown out at some point by a groundskeeper who had no idea how special Justin was.

Although I never thought anyone would see it, Justin's dad found the letter at some point. He spent several days deciding whether it was his place to open it, but ultimately read what I had written. He knew who I was - J and I had lived together for a couple of years even though his parents didn't approve of a girl roommate (and we were just roommates) - but was surprised at what he found. The letter now lives in the box of treasures Justin kept when he was alive, the only letter in there that J didn't put there himself, but that his father thought he would. It was the last letter anyone wrote to him.

I only found out about this a year after it happened. Keith and I were in a restaurant on Lake Belton, the only two people in the place while it was thundering and lightning outside. I had never told Keith about the letter - Justin's father had - but it made him feel good that I had written it. That night we just both sat there at the table for hours in one of the few times that we have ever talked about how much we miss him. And together we cried.

It still hurts that he's gone. It hurts that there is one less person in the world who loves me, one less for me to love. But my sentiments from that letter still stand: we had great times together and I will do my best to remember J and smile. But today, of all days, the world is just a little lonelier.

Happiness for $2.86

2005-09-21T11:33:00.000-05:00

Keith reads, when he reads, classics. You won't catch him with the new Clancy or Crichton, but Dickens and Melville are distinct possibilities. It's all because a guy he admired when he was just a kid could recite Shakespeare just as easily as he could handle a horse.

Since he is pretty unhappy (with no prospect for improvement in the near future), Keith has decided that he needs something new to read. A distraction. He asked me when I was going to Austin next so that perhaps I could bring him "Huckleberry Finn" since he's never read it and hears that this Twain guy is pretty good. Unfortunately the weekend I'm passing through is the weekend he's skipping town, but I had a plan B.

I ebayed the book on the spot. For a penny (plus $2.85 for shipping), he should get the book tomorrow. He even got to pick hard or softcover. It made him feel special that I could, and would, send a gift so easily and quickly. I like that I can cheer up a friend for $2.86 at a time. Although, to me, it's worth a million times more.

I hope things get better for him soon. But if they don't, Hemingway is next.

Hurricane Season

2005-09-21T11:20:00.000-05:00

Hurricane season has gotten me thinking about my dad (I call him Bear) and how he is one of the most entertaining people that I know.

Bear writes long letters for bad news to mom and/or me and mails them, even if he's sitting across the table when they're read, because he doesn't like to make us sad or upset. My last letter was to let me know that I would need to get my brakes worked on. Mom has gotten letters to let her know she hadn't withheld enough for her annual taxes. But the most delightful thing he's sent in awhile was a card last fall. On the news he had heard that Tropical Storm Lisa was due to be upgraded to a hurricane by the end of the week, so he hurried himself down to Hallmark in order to congratulate me properly and let me know how proud he was.

What a guy.

Decisive Action

2005-09-20T23:26:00.000-05:00

I was talking to my friend Doug last night and he laughed at me because I don't mess around once I make up my mind to do something. Like law school. I was scared to death to tell my parents that I was going to law school so I waited until I had gotten in everywhere and pretty much made up my mind where I was going to go. He also liked how I changed schools after my freshman year of college: I got off the plane, my father commented that it looked like I had brought everything home with me (I was going to leave some stuff in Virginia), to which I replied that I was going to Baylor the next year so yes, everything I owned was back in Texas.

Doug said he can't wait to see me married. He has a vision of me coming home to tell dear hypothetical hubby that I bought a house. I guess we'll see.

My Favorite Idealist

2005-09-20T21:13:00.000-05:00

I have a good friend, James, who is finding out precisely what Hemingway meant when he said that the man with two loves is, in his own way, damned. Married to one woman, desperately in love with one whom he can't remember ever not loving. The poor guy. One day he is going to walk straight into an ultimatum of his own creation and have to choose what his life will be like from that point forward.

The catch, and there always is one, is that he has no control over the life that he wants. She's married to someone else. Not happily, but married, and if she can make it work, she's not going to leave. He knows the score. And that's the bitch of it all - he's gambling on something that isn't a sure thing and boy the stakes are high.

But you can't rush anything and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for James. He needs to find something to make him happy, but at this moment what makes him happy makes me scared for him. Because from now on he is working without a net.

Best Served Cold

2005-09-16T10:36:00.000-05:00

I have a friend who is militantly seeking revenge on an ex-boyfriend. She's been plotting some creative and not-so-creative ways to make him suffer for the inconvenience he has put her through by not worshipping the light that springs from her every pore. (She's a tad dramatic, that one).

I have long known that I'm no good at this revenge stuff. I tell people when they have made me upset, I forgive and forget, and I can't seem to hold a grudge to save my life. But this revenge thing has gotten me thinking. If I were to set out to avenge myself against every boy who has disappointed me, I would probably do it here, in my blog. Where everyone I know (who probably knows them as well) could see it. I would make it, say, a multiple choice quiz. One where everyone could try to figure out which embarrassing fact matched up with which distinguished gentleman. "Libel! Slander!" they could protest - I would just cooly smile back. After all, truth is an absolute defense and something about that strikes me just right. I'll tell no lies, but boy will I be honest if you make me mad!

Okay, I would never actually do any of that. I think it would be tacky. But maybe I do have a little taste for this revenge stuff. All the same, I'm going to try to keep my friend away from the voodoo dolls.

Before I'm Thirty, Part II

2005-09-13T10:17:00.000-05:00

I've thought of a few things to add to my "before I'm thirty" list:

7) Visit Hemingway's house.

8) Learn to make a great window treatment for my living room door.

9) Go back to Williamsburg for the Christmas season (which I missed in college because of finals and vacation).

10) Volunteer at either a women's or children's shelter.

11) Figure out how eyeliner works (not that I want to use it).

12) See the Hearst Castle

13) Visit the Statue of Liberty

14) Eat Italian food (again) in Boston's North End

15) Join an adult pick-up soccer game

More later.

On Paper

2005-09-12T13:59:00.000-05:00

I've been dating a new guy for a couple of months now. He's, well, nice. And that's really the best thing I can say about him.

He's great on paper. Intelligent, articulate, easy on the eyes, and a genuinely nice person. And he likes me, a lot. But as I keep managing to prove, theory does not always translate to reality in even measure. In this case, the man has no Elvis - nothing that makes him interesting beyond, say, the third date. Believe me, I know.

He'll make a good friend, but I'm not attracted to him. Now I just have to figure out how to tell him that.

Theme

2005-09-12T08:52:00.000-05:00

If you don't expect too much from me, you might not be let down.

At the moment, this may be applicable to pretty much everyone that I know (myself as no exception).

If It's Not One Thing...

2005-09-09T11:26:00.000-05:00

This has been a tough week, one for the birds. No, literally. I have managed to hit not one, not two but three birds with my car this week.

One I just clipped. A finch that flew into the side of my rearview mirror when I started to go at a stop sign. The second was a big ol' pigeon that glanced off my windshield with a dramatic thump, but flew off on his own. The third one was the problem.

I heard a pretty sickening thud as I hit the dove, but I didn't kill it. It just got caught between my grill and the radiator but otherwise not complaining. So I got someone to extract it, got a box, and took it home. The bird spent the next few days on my front porch (the box weighted so that a raccoon wouldn't get it), and munching on bread and water. It couldn't really fly, but one morning it kind of fluttered out of the box and into the bushes (I know, I lost the proverbial bird in hand). It turned around, looked back at me, and waved goodbye so I figured I'd go on and let it go. Of course it didn't really wave, but that's how I'd like to think of it.

The only bright side I can find to all of this avian excitement is that my cat, Hush, thinks that I'm a whole lot more interesting and useful now that I've started bringing home birds.

Not-So-Happily Ever After

2005-09-06T14:01:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine is getting divorced. I've been hearing for the past few months that he thinks his wife was trying to pick fights. It turns out that he's right.

I asked him, "have you ever just come out and asked if she wants a divorce? Maybe it's just that no one has asked her." So he did. And she does. So they will. The locks will be changed tonight, the papers filed in the morning, and that's all she wrote. I think she just wanted a dignified out, where she could tell people that it was her choice to dump him. She's that immature.

I've told him that next time we do this, he's going to choose a grownup to marry. Maybe he'll listen.

Relax Boys, It's Just a Crush

2005-09-02T17:17:00.000-05:00

I actually sat down the other day to figure out what, precisely, a crush is and why it can make me so darned happy. Though Keith tells me that I'm wrong, I've figured out that it is a mixture of affection and attraction with no expectations.

All I know is that they can put goofy grins in place, create happy little nervous moments, and do wonders for your complexion. I also have the feeling that my new little (or not so little) crush will break up the boredom quite nicely for awhile, thankyouverymuch.

*she grins goofily at the little tingle and admires her skin*

Cuckoo

2005-08-31T16:52:00.000-05:00

I was talking to my friend on Sunday, and he was telling me about how he had gone out on Saturday night. His wife (with whom he's been fighting) had made him promise that he would be home no later than midnight but since he was out with his buddies, drinking beer and shooting pool, he didn't make it home on time.

By the time he left the poolhall it was almost 2:30 am, he was pretty drunk, and it took him a little while to get home. When he walked in his front door, he heard the cuckoo clock in the living room sound three times and he freaked out. He figured that the clock alone probably wouldn't wake his wife up, but with the door it might. So, he did the only thing he could think of to do spur-of-the-moment to keep himself out of trouble: he cuckooed another nine times. He's a pretty creative guy and was pretty proud of himself for his quick thinking and otherwise got to bed without incident.

Sunday morning he got up early to do laundry, and when his wife woke up she asked him what time he got in - he told her it was right around twelve. She just said okay and went on about her morning.

Later, however, he found a note asking him to get the clock fixed because she had woken up the night before and the clock had cuckooed three times, said "oh s&@t," cuckooed four more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed twice more and started giggling, and then cuckooed another three times.

I'm starting to like his wife a lot more than I used to.

Headlines

2005-08-25T10:02:00.000-05:00

My laugh for the morning came from the first headline I saw: "British Police Crack Missing Gnome Case."

I understand that law enforcement has their priorities, but I have this great picture in my mind of a row of policemen holding up the gnomes by the feet like fish they've caught, looking oh-so-proud of themselves. It'll keep me laughing the rest of the day.

(In case you're interested, it's here.)

Telecommunications

2005-08-24T14:21:00.000-05:00

The phone system at work is out to get me. At home (and everywhere else on the planet) the button you push to store a voicemail is 9 (7 to erase). At work, just to keep me on my toes and give me incentive to listen the first time, 9 erases - irretrievably - everything that I thought was important enough to keep. Since 7 saves it all, my voicemail is full of the stuff that I don't need. Nice.

To add insult to injury, my phone has quit using proper grammar. Instead of displaying the message "You Have X New Messages, " it has taken to informing me "You is Message." As long as it doesn't tell me I is messy, I think I'm okay.

Muchas Smoochas (aka Shadow)

2005-08-24T10:22:00.000-05:00

Last night I became someone who used to have a dog, and I'm pretty sad about that. I kind of knew that my golden retriever, Shadow (not my choice for the name), was on his last legs. He had quit eating regularly. It was hard to get him out from under the piano. He wasn't moving well. It turns out that he was pretty much full of cancer, bleeding on the inside, and just ready to go.

He was a pretty cool dog, though. For example, he loved to float down the Guadalupe River, he hated to be clean, and he would smile when he thought stuff was funny (he did have quite a sense of humor). I once made him mad by giving him a bath, so after I had toweled him off he (still soggy) didn't go to roll in the grass to dry as he normally did - no, he jumped directly between my sheets. He definitely knew how to get revenge.

Shadow wouldn't let anybody else in the house get hugs or kisses until he was tired of getting them first. If he could talk, I have no doubt that his personal mantra would have been "love me, love me!" He would howl at the neighbors as they walked into their own houses, had a peculiar dislike for people of Mexican persuasion, and had the somewhat distressing hobby of chasing skunks in the backyard. He was orignally a Christmas gift but, as it turned out, was exactly 50 years younger - to the day - than my father. That made it a little better the year that he ate the cake while we were at dinner.

He would take flying leaps into the swimming pool, lounge in the shade on the trampoline, and dig up things from the flowerbeds in order to plant tennis balls instead. He thought deer looked like fun.

He was my dog for almost 12 years, but as I said, I kind of knew this was coming. When I was home a few weeks ago, I really said goodbye to him when I left. He was a good dog, and I'm going to miss him terribly. Muchas Smoochas, buddy.

Diplomacy

2005-08-23T09:43:00.000-05:00

Do you ever have days where you think the world has pretty much taken leave of its senses? Like this morning, when I opened the newspaper to find that a notable televangelist has openly and explicitly advocated assassinating the Venezuelan president. In some ways it terrifies me that this man has actually run for office himself. But then again, it gives me a tiny bit more confidence in the electoral college that he wasn't successful. (I know, I know: tell it to President Gore, right?)

What happened to that commandment, the "thou shalt not kill" one? I guess Christianity has changed since I was a kid.

Hey, You Asked

2005-08-22T17:58:00.000-05:00

A friend came over the other day to bemoan the state of his current relationship. At the outset, he asked me whether I "could handle" talking about a new relationship of his - he was worried because we had (ill-advisedly) dated once. I let him know that I was okay with it - I pointed out that it's been almost a year, I was the one who ended it and neither of us was particularly happy together. He wasn't convinced. So I laid it all out, "Believe me, I'm over you."

He got so upset at the idea I was over him that he refused to talk to me at all. Such funny creatures, men.

Automotive Independence

2005-08-22T17:31:00.000-05:00

Last Friday I was headed south to a doctor's appointment in a town that I used to live in. It's a hundred miles away, but I like the doctor. It was a nice day for a drive, and I was pretty thrilled at taking an afternoon off.

A little less than halfway there, I noticed that a little light on my dashboard shaped like a battery had come on. I had no idea what it meant! So I did what any girl in my position would - I started calling guys.

My father is MIA somewhere in Colorado, Keith's phone sends me straight to voicemail, Daniel isn't picking up, and Patrick...well, things aren't bad enough to deal with Patrick at the moment. I was about to start indiscriminately going down the list of guys I know when, finally, I get a hold of Keith who promptly diagnoses the problem: my alternator no longer loves me.

I ask the pertinent questions: "Will I make it to where you will change it for me" and "Will you pick me up if I don't?" Keith was sweet enough to go and buy the parts and get them put in for me. It cost me a case of beer and a few hours hanging out to help drink it - not a bad trade. In fact, I highly recommend this sort of roadside assistance.

My father always worries that I can't take care of myself where automobiles are concerned. Whenever he gets back, he'll be impressed that I handled this on my own. Then again, he knows Keith. He may know that I cheated.

Before I'm Thirty

2005-08-19T11:06:00.000-05:00

Everyone says that I absolutely must make myself one of those "30 things to do before I'm 30" list. The sad thing is, I'm stuck at six. My list so far:

1) See the Grand Canyon.

2) Read something (anything) by George Elliot.

3) Play a Chopin nocturne (in order to make good on a promise I made to my mother when I was six - she hasn't forgotten).

4) Buy a really great evening dress, red with slinky straps. Even if I never wear it anywhere, I want to have something that will make me look smashing at a moment's notice.

5) Learn to ballroom dance.

6) Sail from the Florida Keys to Cuba and back.

After these six, I ran out of steam. I am working on them, though - that should keep me busy for awhile.

Not Quite the Six-Pack...

2005-08-19T10:07:00.000-05:00

Foul-Weather Friends

2005-08-19T10:05:00.000-05:00

I feel blessed, really blessed, to have some people in my life. The other night a friend of mine looked me straight in the eyes and told me that he was my "foul-weather friend." Anybody can stick with you through the good times, but I've discovered it is nearly impossible not to love someone who promises to be there for the bad.

How lucky can a girl get?

Puppy

2005-08-19T09:53:00.000-05:00

Though hardly qualified to do so, I blessed my first baby last month. I asked that he live a good life surrounded not only by people he loves, but people who love him back. I asked for a lot more unreasonable things too: that he never be lied to, that he never be hurt, that he never get any bigger than he is at this precise moment. Right now he's just a perfect, tiny person who will, unfortunately, one day grow into his paws - just like a puppy.

So this is what the fuss is about. He's gorgeous, and he looks just like his dad.