Ring of "Far"

My latest foray into the iTunes store ended up with some Dwight Yoakum. A has put me on a mission (not from God and it doesn't involve sunglasses) to put some Johnny Cash on the Mini before our Christmas trip. I can't decide whether to buy a "best of" compilations album, the prison album or just the songs I want. Any suggestions?

Ooh, it's November 30, so it's the last day I can talk about my birthday. My mom gave me a bunch of cute Hello Kitty stuff when I went to visit. I got an overnight bag that has an umbrella slot at the bottom, except I didn't realize what it was. I thought I'd investigate. I stuck my hand in that slot and it eventually got it stuck on my arm. A had to pull it off. You would have thought that at some point I would have stopped. Yes, I'm ## years old and act like I have an IQ of 12.

I also got Hello Kitty playing cards, an alarm clock (which is good because I recently lost one of my three daily alarms [the hockey themed one] and haven't been on time a single day since), a makeup case, a coin purse, and a Starbucks gift card. I know you're thinking Does she really need caffeine and the answer is Yes.

One of my sisters gave me some other HK stuff and she said that her daughter would point to it every day (it was in the closet) and want to play with it. I'm taking toys away from small children? Bad, E, bad!


Misha in the Hello Kitty bag

You can lead a horse to water...

Let's say that I won a million dollars in a lottery. I don't think I'd ever be "good" at being rich. I'm too frugal to be rich. Case in point:

Today I got up late and put on a t-shirt that is probably on the verge of being too raggedy even for a homeless person and was about to leave when I realized that I had a client meeting today. Rats. I put on a new sweater that I bought just for looking "purty." It's some superfine knit sweater or something like that. At any rate, it was expensive (to me, anyway) and is all nice and stuff.

I guess it's so superfine and airy that I can't stand it. I got to school and when I took off my coat, I really thought I had forgotten to wear a shirt. I felt...exposed. I kept looking down all during class, even though I knew I was wearing the sweater. Creepy. I still feel weird. The worst part is that my client isn't coming over until the end of the day, so I have to feel weird all day.

The other day, I was watching Style Court while getting ready for school (yeah, the irony). Some girl had brought in her boyfriend for looking shabby. I ran out of the bathroom to see what he looked like and was shocked to find that he and I were wearing practically the same thing (stained and wrinkled long-sleeve button shirt with the sleeves folded up, Dockers that clashed with the shirt [it takes talent to clash with neutral pants but it can be done], white athletic socks, and falling apart sneakers). Great -- My look isn't good enough for Bachelor Ben (or whatever his name was) and I'm a girl. Then they had a girl who had brought her lawyer sister into court for wearing out of style dresses. Not as bad as like, Amish style, but admittedly, they were a little dated. Lawyer-sister was found guilty.

What this means for me - I'm in deeeeep trouble. Literally, I'm still wearing t-shirts from high school (it's safe to assume that some are more than 10 years old) and jeans I wear twice a week, every week (except the six weeks I had my internship last summer) that are developing holes in all the same places. By now, they're all saggy because I've lost the weight but I still wear them. I guess I'm hoping that the hip-hop sagged pants will come back in for young adult Asian women.

Hey, a girl can hope, can't she?

PS - I know I dress badly. And I know what I'm supposed to dress like. I just feel like an idiot and/or naked when I do. For some sartorial advice, here's some advice from Soup on dressing nice. If you're a guy. Or a woman who wants to dress like a man. But that's your business.

It's official

I'm shacking up with a complete and utter, unapologetic dork.

A is downstairs watching C-SPAN.

If that's not bad enough, it's a "Town Hall" meeting. Between Canada and the US. People arguing over if you are Canadian, should you move to America and if you are American, should you move to Canada. Lots of pros and cons and lame Canadian humor.

He's also doing a Times crossword on top of his Jon Stewart's America book.

And he was in disbelief when C-SPAN broke for a C-SPAN commercial about its other programs (really, who else is going to advertise C-SPAN) and the commercial said, "For our 800th and final Book Notes [blah blah blah]." He couldn't believe they were cancelling Book Notes.

Geez, I couldn't believe it was still on. Actually, it's always on when I'm trying, as a desparate last measure, to find something on tv. But I still refuse to watch it. I may be a nerd, but I'm not a dork too.

UPDATE: A just ran upstairs with a new state quarter in his hand (Wisconsin, all right?). He's about to press it into his Quarters Map (picture later). Dork!

Wisconsin has the Worst. Quarter. Ever. Really. It has a cow's head that looks like it was mounted on a hunter's wall, an ear of corn, a wheel of cheese, and it has a banner that says, "FORWARD." That's it. Worst. Quarter. Ever.

Not the same Anonymous that wrote Primary Colors

Hmm, Evan of Legal Underground didn't ask me, but I'm not so miffed as to not pimp out Anonymous Lawyer to spite...well, no one, really.

Anonymous Lawyer, our favorite cranky fictional hiring partner, wants to be published. I think he's taken NaNoWriMo to heart. Too to heart. Many have pointed out the potential problems with AL being turned into a book (read the comments to the above post). I tend to agree, seeing as how at least 40% of reading someone's blog is for the comments. Plus, I don't know how funny AL would be to a non-law person. His experience might just be depressing, boring, or repulsive to the normal human being.

But hey, I'm all for it. Actually, I think AL might make a good graphic novel. Of course, this would rather hard to do but someone really skilled could make it happen (i.e., anyone but me).

Plus, if AL gets out of law, don't we all think he'd be a heck of a lot happier? Maybe he'll remember us when. If only he too would dedicate his book to me.

Shag Meets Shale

--A Guest Post by A. McPan--

(This is a test of the emergency blogger system. This post is only a test. Should a real emergency arise, this blog would go completely quiet. This blog will return to its regularly-scheduled authorship soon.) For continued fun (okay, so it's really just for larger pictures), click on the picture thumbnails embedded in the post. You'll get an eyeful of the same picture you just saw.

This guest post is brought to you by:

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(Mr. McPan goes to Washington Midland, Texas.)

The Petroleum Museum in Midland, Texas offers to “share the petroleum and energy story, and its impact on our lives” and boasts a 40,000 sq ft facility off of I-20.

Upon entering the museum, we were impressed by the newly renovated lobby and hoped the exhibits would be similarly updated. After paying $8 apiece for myself and Mrs. McPan, we proceeded to the East Wing where we were greeted by floor-to-ceiling polished “cores” from oil wells arranged according to the geologic time scale. A large fossil hanging on the wall with some impressive dinosaur footprints proved to be the most interesting attraction in the museum.

Crossing through a room depicting various methods for locating oil deposits, we arrived in a dark chamber containing a sobering depiction of workaday life on an oil derrick. After pushing a button to begin a narration, two mannequins began to see-saw up and down, grudgingly performing the same endless task they apparently began 30+ years ago while spotlights shone garishly in their faces.

Quickly rounding the corner, we saw a strange, circular room finished with different shades of shag carpet arranged to show sedimentary strata. This room, discussed in Molly Ivins’s book Shrub: The Short but Happy Political Life of George W. Bush (if only it were so) was my main reason for visiting the museum, and it did not disappoint. What do they use this room for? Docent-guided tours? Do they have to vacuum the walls? What was the original inspiration for the room? I can see an architect presenting this room to a dour West Texas board of directors as the focus of the museum’s educational efforts, when in fact it’s better suited for a waiting area in a psych ER. And what was Ms. Ivins doing in the museum anyway? Doing background research for her book, I suppose.

The rest of the museum was pretty much more of the same, alternating between the mindlessly inane (a video demonstration of a “shooter” with a loud boom after the nitroglycerin goes off, after which the oil bubbles satisfyingly to the surface) to the hopelessly technical (dimly backlit fineprint describing geologic principles).

The exhibits end with a whimper, as one wall attempts to dispel various “Oil Myths” placard-by-placard, with no mention of the finite nature of our oil supply, while in the center of the room a cornucopia of plastic consumer crap literally hangs from the ceiling as a demonstration of the broad utility of petroleum. (Click on the picture on the left to read some of the Oil Myths. Unfortunately, we didn't get the one where local oilmen defend OPEC.)

A visit to the museum ends in the new addition to the building, which is actually beautifully designed, with ample space and openings to let in the West Texas sunlight and look out at the mesquite and juniper and the endless horizon. Contained in this pretty building is an infomercial about some local racer and his several iterations of “Chaparral” cars and the glory this brings to Midland. Signs sternly warn patrons not to touch the cars, and a buzzer went off as I was standing at least two feet away from one, while a rent-a-cop monitored the situation closely.

I couldn’t help on the way out to buy a coffee mug, and at the register I noticed a large card offering instructions on finding landmarks important in the upbringing of George W. Bush. Following these directions, one can see Our Dear Leader’s boyhood home and similar haunts. A volunteer asked where we were visiting from. “We’re from Midland,” I lied, not wanting to start a conversation on how to find the sites on the Midland Freedom Trail.

We took a quick drive through the fake oil patch to end our visit. Behind the museum, on the site of what Mrs. McPan remembers as a preserve showing various native animal species, now sits a large collection of pump jacks, their rusting hulks basking in the sun.

The Petroleum Museum presents the classic West Texas paradox: despite its provincialism, bad taste, and fundamentalism, you can’t help but love it in the face of bright sun, clean air, and open prairies.

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Whew! I'm back. That was a lot of work for letting him guest post (I did the pictures, thank you very much).

3+2 = full house

Let me just start with a disclaimer: I'm nuts. So if you happen to yell at the screen when you read this post, don't call me. Or email me. Or leave me nasty comments to the effect of "You're stupid," or even worse, "George Bush could have played that one better." If you're at work and have a tendency to be upset by women pretending to play poker, save this post for later.

Last night was the final night of McPan family poker. Some of the family had already left so there was just eight of us playing. It was looking sort of grim for me in the beginning, but I held on. Eventually I got a straight and was (poker-facedly) excited. I think I was next to last in the circle, so when it came to my mom's turn, she raised the bet to something ridiculous like $300. None of us could believe it, but everybody was whispering, "Well, she wouldn't bet if she didn't have anything." I looked at my yellow sticky note with the hands in order of greatness and decided that my mom had to have a straight too. I couldn't see her having anything else. I keep forgetting that the way a straight works (at least in Texas Hold'em) is that you only use the 5 cards. Your other pocket card doesn't count because you just split the pot. I was confident because I had a high card. So I met it. She turned over her cards and thought she had won it with her straight (gee, the "Aha! I faked them out!" tended to do it)...until I laid out my straight. We were pretty confused (I am my mother's daughter after all) as to who would win the pot until my dad intervened. We split the pot. Less than an hour later we did the same thing, with the same hand and split it again. What are the chances?

Now for the part where it's likely you'll yell at me (if you're my dad or my brother or sports nephew...come to think of it, if you own a Y chromosome, it's likely that you'll yell at me for this). I had a pocket pair and was super excited when I saw the flop, giving me three of a kind and a pair. Right off the bat! I knew to bet after the previous night ("You had three jacks and you didn't bet anything except the minimum? What the hell were you thinking?" After the second time this happened, no one could ever tell if I had an awesome hand or not because I never bet anything) but then I realized that I had a full house (or as it was written on the cheat sheet, "Full House = 3 + 2 (numbers, not pictures [I've been informed multiple times that this is called a suit]), which was higher on the list of you-should-bet-whens. So I bet $100 and most people matched me on it. I ended up calling after that (insert your "how stupid are you" here) and, of course, winning a tiny pot. When I laid my cards out, I said, "One, two, three. One, two," as if someone were really going to question me. At this point, my father said words that I was certainly never allowed to say when I was under the age of 50.

I don't know if part that really peeved my dad and A was that I didn't bet or that I didn't call it a full house or a boat or any of that poker lingo. I think it was that I didn't bet.

Skipping to the end, I placed second on the one night where there was only one prize, a $10 roll of dimes my dad had donated to such a worthy cause.

Oh, and if you think I'm pretty ditzy, on the other side of the sticky note were some notes my niece wrote.

White = $10
Red = $25
Blue = $50
Black = $100
Green = $500

2 A [ace -- Ed.] = good
3 A = great
4 A = asom [awesome -- Ed.]

Then again, I'm twice her age, so I guess I shouldn't be making fun of her. Plus, she won cold hard cash two nights ago and I was stuck flossing my teeth in the bathroom and working a month-old Times puzzle.

A is already planning a poker-off at Christmas with his side of the family. He has informed Mother-in-Law McPan that we'll be bringing some poker stuff. I guess this impliedly means we'll be buying some in the future. Right now, A is watching some poker tournament rerun on tv, boning up on his poker habits, I guess.

I bet my bottom dollar

So there better be sun, as the song says.

I made it past the rookie table and onto the big dogs table, despite my sticky note with the hands written on them in order of "what you want to bet on." The small table figured out after about the second three of a kind hand that I won't bet, even when I have three of a kind, so I was at a disadvantage. I think the only time I bet anything more than a small sum was when I had either a full house or a four of a kind. Yes, I know; I'm a moron.

It was about 12:30 by that time. Of course, I had a measly $600 or so and was going against thousands of dollars, so I guess I did fairly well in finishing fifth. A finished fourth. So far, we've just lost money. The game finally ended around 1:45. But they're watching some world series poker or something right now. Hopefully we'll get our game together and at least place (for money) tonight. (Note: we really don't play for that much money. I mean, even if A and I took first and second, it's not like we'd be thousand-aires. Or even hundred-aires.)

Today, A proposed the idea of guest-blogging. Of course, he was in the middle of operating our motor vehicle, so I couldn't really say no without adverse consequences, could I? : )

Stay tuned - it could happen.

Know when to hold'em; know when to fold 'em

Apparently, the new McPan family tradition is playing poker at any get-together which involves more than one person. Last night after dinner, the family played a massive tournament of Texas Hold'em. I think there were 12 people playing so we had the "big dogs" table and the "rookies" table.

Considering that I don't even watch celebrity poker or any other form on television, I sat out. However, I did pipe up at one point and won my dad a bunch of money. He had just been dealt his cards and hadn't even looked at them. From across the table, I said, "$200, Dad." The minute he laid it out, I thought, uh-oh. Luckily, it worked out because he had actually had a good hand. Then I tried giving A some poker pointers but he doesn't like backseat poker players.

Mother McPan won around 1:00 a.m. We had to give up after five hours and Mom had the most money (around $4,000 and some change) so she won the pot. Wow. I guess my mom has all sorts of secret hobbies like reading Michael Moore's website daily, playing poker, and working on her acting skills. Sports nephew to my sister: "Ha! My tens beat your sevens! Yes! I win!" Mom, demurely: "Oh, and all I had were two kings."

I received some Hello Kitty playing cards for my birthday (just four more days in November and then I'll shut up about it) and so A showed me this morning what all the hands were. I had to write them down on a sticky note so I'll know what beats what. Then we practiced and I was really stomping his butt when I took it too far. He made a huge comeback. I put it all in, thinking he would think I really had something and fold. He did think I had something but thought that his straight was pretty good, so he ended up taking me to the cleaners. No matter; I funded his poker last night and I'll win it back plus some tonight.

Oh yes, it will be mine...

In other news, my blog received some endorsements.

Sister E: I read your blog when I'm nursing. I translate this into: 1 of 1 nursing mothers (100%) recommend my blog.

Sister-in-law K: I read your blog at work, except for any link to Naked Drinking Coffee. I know to link to him when I'm at home. Me: Yes. He should come with a NC-17 rating.

My first iTunes song(s)

Burning question: for those of you with iPod Minis, what do you keep it in? I know that there are little iPod pouches for regular sized iPods, but the Mini is too small. I'm thinking of either a) making my own or b) putting it in a cell phone pouch for when I carry it around in my purse. Since a) will make anyone who knows me laugh until they cry, I'm thinking b) is the way to go.

Well, I am finally at a place (the office) where I have an internet connection con iPod at the same time. I updated my iPod software (except I didn't bring the little charger machine that I'm supposed to use to make it start using the new software...so complicated for my simple mind!) except now I can't play the music I just purchased. I guess I'll just have to go home early! Whee!

Anyway, back to my first three songs:
(Can't say...it's a surprise for A when we get in the car. Needless to say, it's good car tunes music.)
White Flag - Dido
Everything - Alanis Morissette

Really, I own most CDs I have ever wanted, so for the moment being, I don't have much desire to download anything yet. Well, there is that new Cake cd.

I really like Everything. I heard it while I was shopping at the mall. Then I saw the video on VH1. Why that makes me like it, I'm not sure. I think I like the whole oxymoronic theme throughout. (Gee, isn't that Ironic? Except that song really wasn't mostly ironic. But hey, she was like, 19 or something. At that age, even I often confused metonymy and synechdoche [I recently discovered that the distinction between the two has practically been dissolved and everyone treats them as the same thing. Bugger!] Speaking of, that was actually a clue in the Times the other day except I never could find the puzzle after I remembered it.) If I had know about this song at the time, I might have submitted it in Milbarge's Song Dedication post.

Everything (Alanis Morissette)
I can be an a**hole of the grandest kind
I can withold like it's going out of style
I can be the moodiest baby
And you've never met anyone
As negative as I am sometimes

I am the wisest woman you've ever met
I'm the kindest soul with whom you've connected
I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen
And you've never met anyone
As positive as I am sometimes

You see everything
You see every part
You see all my light
And you love my dark
You dig everything
Of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can't relate
And you're still here

I blame everyone else, not my own partaking
My passive aggressiveness can be devastating
I'm terrified and mistrusting
And you've never met anyone
Who's closed down as I am sometimes

You see everything
You see every part
You see all my light
And you love my dark
You dig everything
Of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can't relate
And you're still here

What I resist, persists, and speaks louder than I know
What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I go
I am the funniest woman that you've ever known
I am the dullest woman that you've ever known
I am the most gorgeous woman that you've ever known
And you've never met anyone as everything as I am sometimes

You see everything
You see every part
You see all my light
And you love my dark
You dig everything
Of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can't relate
And you're still here
And you're still here
And you're still here

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If you're still here after that long bit, you need another hobby.

Happy Thanksgiving! For those in my family, you'd better eat all you want before I get there. You know what happens to a particular side dish when the E arrives...

E. McPan investigates (again)

-Hopefully this time with less fallout-

I have discovered the real reason Ambivalent Imbroglio (geez, that's a mouthful; therefore, hereafter abbreviated as AI) has fallen behind on his National Novel Writing Month project. Check your mail, boys and girls, for the December issue of the ABA's Student Lawyer. Wow, AI even made the cover story. And I can say I read his blog way back when.

To be fair and balanced, I checked with AI before this story went to press and he made a statement, much of which will be used however I feel is the maximum funniest with the least amount of effort on my part.

"[D]ude, you do realize that November is not over, right? I mean, theNaNoNov is not finished yet, but that doesn't mean it won't be. Ok, it probably won't be, but the fat lady has not sung, dammit! ;-)"

Hmm, actually I didn't do any editing at all, except the bracket at the front.

To monitor AI's NaNoNov progress, go to his website and look on the right. At least, I think that's what that little gauge means. If not, he's got most of a tank, which is what Homeland Security recommends. Good job, AI.

Let me just say this, AI: Your novel better not be full of funny and odd usage of punctuation like that weird symbol at the end of your quote (see above). I don't know what that means* but it better not be secret code for "up your nose with a rubber hose" or anything else smarty, young man.

* Please, no comments on what that means. I DO know what it means. This post is nothing but an attempt to screw around rather than get to work. I am completely not responsible for anything. Especially if I spelled AI wrong.

"Never let anyone outside the family know what you're thinking"

Sheesh - I feel like the Godfather. I just had two fillings taken out and re-put back in. Well, new ones. Naturally, the receptionist wanted to have a long discussion about my purse (It's so cute! Can I see the front? Where did I get it? How much was it? Oh, I love _____; I got my sunglasses there and everyone loves them...you get the picture) when I felt like I had an elephant trunk for a tongue.

Dakota called me yesterday morning at the office in a mild panic (she doesn't really have panics, so I was impressed) because she needed to have an emergency root canal but she had a divorce hearing the next day (today). I wrote down all this stuff and was going to pinch-hit for her when I stopped and said, "Wait...what day? Shoot, I'm going in for a crown myself." The good news is that I don't need a crown after all. They had prepared me for maybe needing a crown depending on what it looked like when they took out this one filling. Yay!

In the meantime, I'm currently drooling all over myself. The shots on one side of my mouth had worn off by the time they got around to it so they had to re-shot (yeah, not a word) me. I think they did my tongue, too.

You know that promo for Blue Collar TV? Where the one guy comes in and shouts, "Who's ready to git'er done?" I actually heard that in the dentist's office. Really. And no, I wasn't on anything.

In continuing coverage of my birthday month (trust me, by the end of the month, I'll shut up about it), my sister E. sent me a card that said, "When did I get to be 10 years older than you?" which made me laugh, as if somehow I was in an accelerated aging machine (the horror!) and it wasn't fair to her. Naturally, that isn't the case and so she's always been 10 years older than me. And at least 10 times more responsible. I get to see her baby live and in person this week. Pictures to come, I'm sure.

One of my little sisters sent the funniest card(s) ever. It was a series of postcards, each with one line from Happy Birthday. Even funnier is that I actually happened to turn them over in order (no instructions were provided), so it really read Happy Birthday to You; Happy Birthday to You, etc. Hilarious. I drooled a little while laughing. Even funnier. I accidentally spit on the table. Oops.

UPDATE: I'm hungry (not really news, as I always think I'm hungry) but I can't feel my tongue yet, and the dentist said not to eat until I could feel my tongue again. I could take the plunge and buy a Slim-Fast drink or something, but why waste those calories on something nasty and unsatisfying? Rats.

What a girl wants

First year, I never told my friends when my birthday was (sound familiar?). It's a long story, but I generally don't talk about it. I finally agreed to tell them once it was passed, so on December 1, I told them that it had been in November sometime. Since then, we've celebrated on days-not-my-birthday. This year, it was Friday.

Girl's night out
My friends took me to a sushi place that I thought would take me 40 minutes to reach. It took me 25 instead and so I was the only one there. (I called Charlotte and said, "I'm already there. Do you want me to go in and get a table?" She suggested that I wait in my car in the parking lot. "Which is more desparate-looking? Getting a table for 5 and waiting for 20 minutes or sitting in my car for 20 minutes?" She didn't change her mind.) I went inside -- wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. First I went into the nail salon next door and had my butt halfway down to the waiting room chairs when I thought, There sure is a lot of nail polish in a sushi place. Yeah. It's a tricky entrance. The sushi entrance is on the side, while the sign for it is directly in front of the nail salon. In fact, I don't even know what the nail salon's name is, seeing as how I never saw a sign.

The dinner was pretty good, except I ate one tiny piece of tempura and ended up with a splitting headache. I think I'm allergic to MSG or whatever, because whenever I eat tempura, I get bad headaches. Anyway, I digress. I opened my presents and they were perfect: a pink Hello Kitty satin purse with purse accessories inside and Five Pepper pepper (I had asked for it specificially). (Side note: I am already carrying the pink HK wallet, cleverly concealed in my boring tweed purse. I think cashiers everywhere snicker as I whip it out and select from my fine assortment of platinum credit cards. Of course, I also have the French HK coin purse...who doesn't?) At the end, they had the waiter bring out my red bean ice cream with a candle in it. They sang. I blushed. Then we sat around and talked for a really long time. I think we scared off most patrons. Let's just say that no topic is off-limits. Yes, even feminine hygiene products...in excruciating detail. Personally, I didn't have much to add to that topic.

Where the interior light don't shine
The next day, A and I went out to see a movie (Sideways). On the way to the theater, I noted that the interior light didn't come on when you open the door. He said, "Yeah, to turn on the light you have to do it manually, with the switch." Click-click-crrrrack. Uh...crap. We broke the light. Now it wouldn't come on at all. Until we were on the highway, when it magically turned on and wouldn't turn off. We pulled into the parking lot and had to pry open the light with my keys and then rip the bulb out. Bummer. The whole time, I was afraid that when he stuck my key into the light panel, it would short out and I would see his skeleton. Then again, I'm weird like that.

The movie was 3.25 stars. It was a gentle, adult comedy. A and I probably brought the mean age down to 38. The dean of my law school was there. Yikes. I thought it was really just the 80s Spring Break-type movie all grown up. You know, hunk boy takes nerd boy with him to get laid. Really, that was the entire premise of the trip. Except rather than South Beach, it was Wine Country. And everything ends up working out for Hunk Boy and Nerd Boy. So I guess it was a mild improvement over the 80s movies. At any rate, not the 4 stars everyone and their dog gave it. I guess I'm not mature enough to appreciate wine humor.

"Rotate the pod, please, Hal."
Sunday we decided to celebrate my birthday at home (it wasn't my birthday but, hey, a nod's as good as a wink to a bat, right?). We got dressed up to go to our favorite "nice" restaurant, drove out there in the rain, and discovered they are closed Sundays. They're also closed on our anniversary and every other event we try to celebrate. We ended up going for more sushi and then dessert at Chili's. Back at home, I opened my present from his parents (cool Samsonite tote bag...now I can get in on the surely-going-out-the-door-if-I'm-doing-it trend of forgoing the postur-o-pedic backpack with padded straps and carrying a ginormous tote bag instead).

I then opened the smaller package from A and it was the first season of Northern Exposure (my favorite TV series) on DVD. It even came in a little fake down jacket with a moose zipper pull. Cute. Then I shook the perfectly square box.

Me: Hmm, it's pretty heavy for the size.
A: [shakes it] Yeah, I guess it is. What do you think it is?
Me: Ummm, I'm gonna go with a small handgun and a gift certificate to that concealed weapons class.
A: I hope you're not disappointed.

I open it. It's an iPod Mini!!! At first I couldn't believe it. It really was an iPod Mini! You'll have to excuse my excitement, but I am so far behind the times, we didn't even own a DVD player until three years ago when I got one from my father-in-law for Christmas. I consider technology like I do haute couture - sure, somebody has the stuff (mainly really cool chicks in magazines) but I would never have something like that. I'm too...Asian. No, that's not right. I'm too...lazy. Yeah, lazy.

So anyway, it's an iPod Mini. It's totally cute and A is loading it up for our trip to my parents' house for Thanksgiving (it's sort of hard to call them the McPans if his parents are also the McPans...must think of better psuedonym). He also got me the little machine that beams your iPod stuff into the radio so you can play it in your car. This is very convenient, seeing as how I fried my radio last summer and the tape player doesn't work, which means our portable CD player can't play. On the last trip, A resorted to bringing little portable speakers and the CD player. I felt...improvised.

A is downstairs now, still loading stuff on. Last time I looked, I saw some Sedaris, Pulp Fiction, Beatles, and Simon & Garfunkle. I think he's enjoying it more than I am right now.

Today I connected to the internets and found a barrage of emails from family members asking if I was ages ranging from 25 to over 30 yet.

From my sister, Special K: "...it becomes less acceptable to wear that low rise dark blue kind of jean we all know and love after you turn 30...."

From my mom (who yes, really does read this blog...Hi Mom): "[Y]ou're nearly a grown-up now!" (thank goodness someone recognizes my immaturity still).

Such age-related questions will remain unanswered on this blog. Any woman can tell you that if she won't give her age, it means she's between 27 and 34. It's that initial "30" that scares them. And then it takes a couple of years to get over being in their 30s. I think once you're 34 (if you're well-adjusted) or 35, you can start saying it again. So, before you can ask, I am officially "not telling."

The good part? I am still having more birthday this weekend. Rock on! I will be turning ## all month, I guess.

We interrupt this blog...

to tell you absolutely nothing will be posted until probably tomorrow afternoon.*

It's my birthday month (explanation in the next post) and I'm taking advantage of it, right up to Thanksgiving. At that point I can stop celebrating because it means I'm far behind in my exam prep.

Until then, party on, Wayne! Party on, Garth!

That is all.

* Unless, of course, I'm lying or get bored later on.

Write this down

Esqlicious.

Now that's a beautiful word. Congrats to Mr. P (not to be confused with Mr. McP) on passing the bar, and thanks to Plainsman for introducing that word into my vocabulary. Someday I hope to be able to use it in reference to myself.

However, I think there ought to be a "u" in it. Esquilicious. Well, whatever.

Just when you thought disco was dead

On the way home today, there was some crazy fool rollerblading across a busy street. (The drivers in Law School City are perhaps the worst I've ever seen. Yes, even worse than whatever city you were just thinking of. I was pretty worried that I might have to stop and render aid or something.)

So Sk8rBoi was wearing this referee-striped shirt except the stripes were blue and white. He also had on a bike helmet (the extra aerodynamic type), shin guards (the soccer kind), knee pads over the shin guards and not on his knees, elbow pads, and a fanny pack over his spandex knickers. Wow. Talk about casual Friday.

Sk8rBoi skated across the street, except he had to do some type of solo line dance at the same time. This made crossing the street slow. This did not, however, slow down any driver. He finally reached the other side but didn't get onto the sidewalk. He stood there and started kicking the curb with his rollerblade. I watched him do this for a little bit and he finally got up into the bus shelter and started dancing again.

Ah, if only my life were that simple.

Penguins

As requested in the comments section to that post, Rowdy's penguins.


Sorry my hair is so shiny. Really. I tried to make it less shiny so I could lighten the picture so you can see the guy in the tank trying to force penguins to eat fish, but I'm technologically stupid.

Boston pix

Outside the aquarium


Here's that crazy seahorse I was talking about. Unfortunately, this picture kind of sucks (they move pretty fast), and I guess we didn't take a picture of a leafy one at all. But go to this site and you can see really good pictures of those crazy seahorses. Also, click on the pictures at that site and you'll get to more pictures.


Myrtle and more Myrtle


Sam Adams' grave. Wow, he did all that and still had time to make beer.


Oh, and he laid the cornerstone for this building, the Old State House. Paul Revere reshingled it later on. The dome was painted black during WWII.

Hello/Picassa is on the fritz. More pictures later.

Try this at home

The one thing you're allowed to try at home, boys & girls. All the rest, still off limits.

Go to Google.
Type in weapons of mass destruction.
Click the I'm Feeling Lucky button.
Read the entire error.

If it's not the #1 hit anymore, go here.

The Minutia (Wo)Man

My trip to Boston, in excruciating detail. It eliminates the need for me to think of something real to post.

Friday
The MPRE got started late. We spent 30 minutes bubbling in all sorts of crap like what state we live in. Those bubbles were the size of pin heads, which I personally found difficult to fill in. I found at least two bubbles I had filled in the wrong space, so I hope I get my scores back. Especially if I passed. The test was dumb. I mean, none of the answers looked right and I swear that they only covered 1/4 of the rules. That or I didn't learn anything. Both are probably equally likely.

Right after the test, I split for the airport. There was a flight that left two and a half hours earlier than the one I was booked on and I wanted to get it if I could. I was on my way to the airport when I turned on my phone. A had a semi-emergency and wanted to know if I could go home and burn a CD of his work and bring it with me. I looked at my clock. If I went home, it would take 30 minutes to format a CD. Another 5 or so to burn it. And I was 35 minutes from home. Once that was done, it would take me 45 minutes to get to the airport if I magically bypassed all traffic with utter disregard for the traffic laws. Realistically it would have taken me an hour or more to get to the airport. Plus, it would be almost rush hour by then. I decided to press on and try to catch the earlier flight.

I got to the airport and was informed that yes, I could fly standby but the connection was through a different city and I would have to fly standby the second leg too. That second flight was much fuller and it was the last one out. So if I couldn't get on, I'd be stuck at [airport] at my own expense. I decided to wait for my regularly scheduled flight. Naturally, that flight was 20 minutes late. My connection time was only 30 minutes. Uh-oh. When I got on, the lady next to me wanted to, like, tell me her life story. She got the hint when I pulled out my civil procedure book.

When I got to O'Hare, I had just enough time to potty (by the way, O'Hare has really nice [for an airport] bathrooms; I can't remember what Midway's were like), get a cofee, get lost on the way to the cream and sugar stand, and walk right onto the plane. Once on the plane, we taxied around the place for 11 minutes. Seriously. I thought, I could drive to Boston faster than this plane is going to get there. When the SkyChefs truck passed us, I lost all hope that we would get to Boston on time.

I got to Boston at 12:40. I called A. No answer. I called his cell phone. No answer. I had planned on taking a cab anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. I went outside and it was snowing! The queue for the cab was long. There weren't many cabs around. I ended up doing one of those shared van cabs where you drop off everyone who decided to stay in Nantucket, Maryland, or any other far-out place. The cabbie barely spoke English and he apparently didn't have any understanding of red lights. Or ice on the street. Or pedestrians. Or...well, mostly everything. Except tips. When he unloaded my bag and the other girl who was staying at my hotel, he actually said, "Ladieees, don't forget the teep." Ugh. I threw some money at him and stomped into the hotel. Where I got lost. And had to ask the rent-a-cops where the south tower elevators were.

Saturday
It was snowing (!) sort of off and on throughout the day. It piles up fast. But they must have a pretty good snow-clearing system because most sidewalks were cleared off everywhere we went.

In the morning, I did some shopping while A did his business stuff. I finally got my much longed-for pumpkin spice donut. We recently got 2 Krispy Kreme stores in Law School City but they're both over half an hour away from where I live. A doesn't believe in the power of Krispy Kreme, so it's not really justifiable to drive that far for one donut. The verdict: delish.

In the afternoon, we went to the aquarium. That aquarium rocks. Totally. There's a four-story cylinder right in the middle and it's this huge tank that goes all the way to the bottom. They have this turtle who's been in the tank for over 30 years, so she's even older than that. The last time they weighed her, she was around 450 pounds. She's pretty awesome. You can tell she's the queen of the tank. She just flies around in the water. I gave her a high-five through the glass. We also saw these crazy seahorses. One's a dragon seahorse and the other is a leafy seahorse. We took pictures but like I said, I left my camera with A, so it'll be the weekend or so before I can post pictures. They also have an electric eel and they've rigged his tank so that you can tell when he's sending out his little electric pulses. Whenever he's moving, he generates electricity and you hear the intensity through a speaker. It's like a thump. The more electricity, the faster the thump. They also have a scale which tells you roughly how much electricity he's putting out - I think it goes from just hunting to actual kill mode. We didn't witness any kill voltage, but we did get some good moving-around thumping noises.

That night we went to a free-to-us dinner at Stephanie's on Newbury. A said his swordfish was really tasty, but I don't really like fish, so I got the meatloaf. I really wanted the $17 bowl of macaroni, but there was a lot of suck potential there, so I didn't get it. A said that he felt like those guys in the movie The Corporation when we were scarfing down corporate-sponsored food and ordering stuff at will (by "stuff" I mean appetizers, wine, ice wine, desserts, after-dinner drinks, port, etc.). I felt bad...for like, a minute. It didn't seem like so much excess when we strolled past the Armani store later on.

Sunday
I had planned on getting up early and going to the Museum of Fine Art to see the Art Deco exhibition. It didn't happen. Those Sheraton Sweet Sleeper beds are something else. I felt like a marshmallow. Too too comfy. When I finally got up, I looked out the window and saw about 12 small sail boats floating around in the Charles. Weird. It was just snowing the day before.

We spent the day walking around. We went to the Commons and then did the Freedom Trail thingy. Most of the chapels and graveyards don't really interest us, but we kind of stumbled upon the Granary burying ground and were suddenly eye-to-eye with Sam Adams' grave. Yes, the same Sam Adams who encourages you to order beer at lunch to impress your boss. As it turns out, he was also the Commonwealth's first governor and he laid the cornerstone to the Old State House (the one with the gold shingles) which Paul Revere did a shingle job on. He's also related to John and John Q. Adams. I guess that should have been obvious to me, but hey - I'm an American. What do I know about history? We went in and saw some other famous graves. It was kind of creepy, though, because, unlike modern graveyards, this one had teeny tiny headstones all close together. It was pretty weird.

We were almost at Fanueil Hall (most recently of Kerry concession speech fame), when we saw a Starbucks. In France, we developed a nice (but fattening) habit of a daily afternoon cafe au lait, so we decided to stop. Plus, they always have bathrooms. This one didn't. And even though we were clearly going to buy something, they wouldn't let us use it. So we left. We ended up using a federal potty at the Forrest Service bathroom. Yes, in the middle of Boston. They do guided tours of historical stuff. It was free and the faucet water was actually warm (unlike roadside bathrooms where it's always dry-ice cold). There's nothing like a free federal pee. We ended at Fanueil Hall and walked through the marketplaces. We happened to be there when the Forrest Freddy (except she was a she, so I guess she was a Forrest Fredricka) was giving the historical talk. That building is pretty old. They had meetings there right before the Boston Tea Party and stuff. They actually still use it for naturalizations every other week and for other events.

We had free tickets to a Boston Pops concert, so we went to that after we ate dinner. It was entertaining enough, although I guess I'd rather have gone to the BSO if I'd had my druthers. I whispered to A, "What if they play the entire Wagner Ring cycle (Der Ring des Nibelungen)? I should have gone to the bathroom first!" Sure enough, they did a bit of Wagner, although not the Ring cycle. I also whispered that I wanted to hear some Sousa (being the 150th anniversary of his birth and all) and they ended on that. I should have whispered something else, like, "I hope they give us some gold bullion at the end." They did quite a few crowd-involvement songs (by that I mean, Keith Lockhart said he was disappointed that more people weren't singing along to Bridge Over Troubled Water). The only ones I sang along to were Do-Wah-Diddy and YMCA. The rest I didn't know (as it turns out they were the Leave it to Beaver song, Green Acres, I Can't Get No Satisfaction).

When we were picking up our coats for the coat check, the coat attendant said something to A. Outside, he told me that the clerk had said, "This is a nice scarf" when he handed over my coat and scarf. A thought it was to generate tips. I thought it was because the clerk probably wore it around when I was in the concert. It is pretty soft. I got it in Paris. I would have taken $15 for it if the clerk had wanted it.

After the concert, we decided to go to the Top of the Hub lounge to see the panoramic view of Boston from 52 stories up and have a cocktail or two. We were seated. And waited. We waited for 10 minutes. I was getting thirsty. We moved to a window-side table after asking the hostess. We waited another 10 minutes. Admittedly, we actually got the menu after 15 minutes but no one ever came by to take our order. Or even give me a glass of water. We decided to leave. We complained to no avail. We ended up having drinks at the hotel lounge, where, within two minutes of being seated we had a bowl of snacks and pint glasses of water and our drinks were on the way. Now that's service.

Monday
I had to run a quick errand for Mr. O (I told him I'd get him a t-shirt from his brothers-in-fireproof-coated-arms), and we were right by a fire station (ladder 15, engine 33, if you must know) so that was our first item of the day. The garage was open and I guess they had just washed the trucks. One had patriotic bows on its grill. Cute. I asked the fireman who was spraying down the sidewalk (in near-freezing weather, mind you - hello, lawsuit!) if they were still selling shirts. They had to ask three people before they found someone with a key.

Hey Jawway (Joey), we still sellin' thase shirts?
Ya gatta have a key - Ask [uncomprehensible name].
Hey [uncomprehensible name], who's gat the lockah key? This lady wantsa buyah shirt.
[Man with locker key] What size ya need?
Me: Large. And a small, if you have one.
Heah you ahh - one lahdge and one smaah. That's thirty dollahs.

Amazingly, A understood all of this (he has problems understanding people who speak English for some reason...especially when we were in London - it was embarassing) and paid the man.

The next item of business was breakfast. We were walking to find a Burger King and I saw a bar that was advertising a breakfast menu. More precisely, it was advertising pumpkin pancakes. I'm the biggest sucker for pumpkin pancakes. I once contemplated jumping out of a moving car in Atlanta and skipping my sister's wedding for pumpkin pancakes. I waxed poetically about their perfectness during my horn lessons that I was paying for in college. Every year around Thanksgiving, I drive by IHOPs to see if they're going to make pumpkin pancakes. I had to eat at this establishment, bar or not. As it turns out - you should really eat breakfast at The Pour House. It totally rocks. And the coffee is actually not bad. Homefries = the non-shredded type of hash browns. I think some people call them potatoes o'brien. Tasty.

We went to the public library to gawk at the architecture and marble water faucets. Of course, getting stuck between flights of stairs with no exit wasn't exactly on the agenda, but we made it out.

On the way back, we saw one of the trucks backing into the fire station. Amazing. Naturally, they put this station at the silliest point ever, with a narrow street and a street light right on the edge of the curb. I swear, they could back that thing in like it was nobody's business. The firefighters park their cars behind the trucks, so I guess if you backed in too quickly or just a little too much, there goes your Corolla. I told the backing-in story to Mr. O and he liked it. I guess it's firefighter humor.

After that, I went and packed for the long trip home. My cab driver was sort of jerky, not even loading my bags for me. And he played the worst French-Jamaican crap ever. And either his windows were on the fritz or he was because he had a difficult time leaving the windows one way or another.

The trip home was long and boring. In the terminal I sat next to a lady who was wearing way too much Elizabeth Arden's Pleasures. Guess who was also next to me on the plane? I got off the plane feeling like a magazine with too many perfume samples. The last plane ride home was okay and I only got lost once trying to figure out which parking lot I parked in.

Other thoughts: For some reason, they call creamer or half-and-half "light cream." As opposed to? Why can't they just call it creamer? Or half and half? Mind-boggling.

The token machines in the T annoy me. And so does the guy who hovers over your shoulder watching you. I guess that's not a complaint against Boston, just weirdos. Hovering weirdos.

When I get my camera (A should be back at the end of this week), I'll post pictures.

As seen at Soup's

eXpressive: 6/10
Practical: 6/10
Physical: 4/10
Giver: 2/10

You are a XPIT--Expressive Practical Intellectual Taker. Funny, I thought it made me an expat.

This makes you a Manager (Whoo-hoo, I'm exempt from overtime pay). You are cool, thoughtful and intelligent. Your approach and your sense of humor are under-the-radar (usually because I flew so low I crashed), your charm is undeniable (well, you could deny it but you'd be wrong). You keep everything under control. You have distinctive vocal mannerisms. Usually that means I'm being too loud. You may not have much interest in approaching strangers, but when you do, you are successful (in what? Stealing their wallets? Getting them to buy me a drink? Asking them to take our tourist pictures?). You will probably end up with someone beautiful, fascinating and off-balance (talk about a mixed bag). While your partner may steal the limelight, it's you that keeps things running smoothly and provides stability in your relationship (boooring!). If you are with someone as contemplative (you mean like Plato? He was more into the NAMBLA thing) and hard-headed as you, you can have a tough time.Your greatest asset is that you tackle conflict as it rises -- you don't ignore it and let it brew. If you have a partner that *does* let it brew, it will make you crazy! You can find yourself fighting for two -- trying to anticipate your partner's needs and draw their feelings out -- which is exhausting and, well, not your job. (This sentence didn't really make any sense to me. I'm fighting for two? Like, for him and me but against him as me? What? Exactly. I'd rather eat for two.) You would never cheat. (Well, there was this one time on a math test in the third grade...) You would make an excellent spouse (Oh, I would, would I?). When your spouse's friends met you, they would think, "Crap, why couldn't I get that one?" (I seriously doubt that. And if they do: weirdos!)

Of the 154871 people who have taken this quiz, 6.2 % are this type. (Whatever, dude.)

I'm alive!

Last night, as I sat in my interior, windowless, lower-level bathroom with the cats, a flashlight, two phones, a radio, and some scissors, I thought, "Maybe I should have gone wireless. Then I could be blogging instead of sitting here listening to the weather updates telling me I'm going to die at any minute." Of course, then all the power went out, so I could have only blogged for 3 hours before my battery ran down.

I got the mail on the way to school this morning. Our box was so full due to me being gone for half a week and hurricanes the rest of the week that when I opened it there was nothing but a key. Wow, we actually filled up the big box at the bottom of our neighborhood mail box. That's a lot of freakin' mail.

Anyway...my Boston post (yes, Mom, I went to Boston but I swear that I told you [yes, TP/Ninja Boy, my mother really does read this blog. I heard my mother-in-law has read it too.]) is forthcoming, if I survive Mother Nature today.

If only I knew how to swim.

(PS - in case you were wondering, the scissors were to cut mats out of my older cat's fur. He doesn't like them being brushed out and I figured I might as well be productive while seeing my life flash before my eyes. Also, it's depressing to eat a frozen [well, formerly frozen - I did get the chance to cook it] pizza while sitting in a blacked-out bathroom.)

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

I'm back. Didja miss me didja miss me didja miss me? Apparently whoever got to my website by looking for Navy SEAL training missed me.

Well, I'm starving and it's almost my bedtime already, so I will be posting at another time.

PS - those people in Baahston sure talk funny. Strangely, when I asked for a t-shirt in a "large" I got one that was a "lodge." And when I asked if they had any "small" shirts, he said, "Yeah, here's a smile." Or at least, the way I say smile, which actually comes out more like "small." Oh, and if they announce that the next station is "Ollingtawn" it's "Arlington." Yeah...don't forget to get off at the right station.

PPS - I got what I went for...a pink BoSox hat. But I forgot my camera in Boston, so, uh, it'll be a while before I can post pictures.

More movies E likes and feels like sharing

From the archives of E.'s brain (aka that lump three feet above her a** - and no, that movie isn't listed here). In other words, I'm busy studying for the MPRE (apparently, I have no sense of judicial ethics or multiple-choice questions) and packing, so I dredged this up from the Drafts section. Literally, it was drafted. Ha, my "I got up at 3:45 to make sure A got off to the airport" state makes me even funnier to me! Note to self: Next time, buy suitcase well before the trip. Don't go luggage shopping day before exam & trip. Oh, and get more of those space-saver bags the next time you're out. And don't eat the ham in the fridge - one of them is expired but I can't remember which. So don't eat either one. Got it? Love, E.

American Splendor is a good movie, even if you don't like comics. Or graphic novels. Or whatever. When we exited the theater, I asked A how he liked the movie. He said, "Oh it was pretty good." I said, "Yeah, I thought his discussions with Crumb were pretty funny." He looked at me and said, "Who?" "You know, Crumb of Crumb Comics." He didn't know. Uh-oh. Me: You did know this was a movie based on a real guy, right? A: No. I thought that part of what this movie was so good was that they treated it like it was a real guy. Me: He was real. A: Oh.

Monsoon Wedding - not just for chicks but it probably helps. Unless you happen to like Indian culture. Or weddings. Or drama/romances. If you've already seen it, listen to the commentary track. There's some interesting stuff on it. Okay, maybe it was just interesting to me.

Memento - except I think that it wouldn't be as good when you watch it again. Unless you really just like Guy Pearce and/or Carrie Ann Moss. It's a pretty cool movie to see the first time. Don't learn anything about it first - just see it.

L.A. Confidential - Who doesn't love Kim Basinger as a Veronica Lake knock-off? Smokin'. And Guy Pearce as the good cop, Russell Crowe as the bad cop??? This sounds like it's got Just Because: The Franchise fistfight potential.

Being John Malkovich - Malkovich, Malkovich, Malkovich! Malkovich? Malkovich! However, I don't recommend talking to your allergist about whether a sex change operation is right for you. Or locking up your significant other in a monkey cage. They tend to get pretty mad.

The Quiet American - maybe the best movie Brendan Fraser has ever been in. It's got Michael Caine. It's based on the novel by Graham Greene.

Some classics
The Shawshank Redemption: When my sister S was getting married, she had this whole plan for what each section of the family would do during the ceremony. She kept referring to us as "the sisters." "Okay, at this point, the sisters will come forward and blah blah blah," except every time she said The Sisters, I laughed. Yes, I'm horribly inappropriate. Since then, I have not been invited to participate in wedding ceremonies. Actually, that's not true. I did a reading at another sister's ceremony, except it was because the person who was supposed to read wasn't able to come at the last minute.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest: Mmm. Juicy Fruit.

The Great Escape - It's a war movie, but not like Saving Private Ryan war-movie. It's more about the people, I guess, than the war itself. I saw this once at Target for$9.99 on DVD. I don't know why I didn't buy it. I'm such a moron. If you rent it, be prepared to stop it at least twice for a pee break. Long. But it's worth it, especially if you like war movies. Plus, today IS Veteran's Day.

NOOOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition (or Lecture...whichever)

I'm one of those people who refuses to take the free lunch from a group and then duck out without staying for the presentation. I feel it's rude. I also refuse to take cookies from the Christian Bible-study group because I don't want them to think that I'm actually pretending to be interested.

The other day, I attended a lecture which was entirely in Spanish. And I didn't even get any free food. A asked me, "Why didn't you just leave?" Indeed. I have no answer. Not even a dumb one.

Admittedly, it was sort of class-related and the topic itself was interesting. I didn't realize that the guy would give the presentation in Spanish (even though he had really good English introductions). The worst part was that I was sitting in the English-only group (an Asian [me], an expectant father who was on FPCON Delta re: the baby being born, an African-American, and an expectant nun [Let me rephrase that - a lady who is already a lawyer but is in "training" to be a nun. Whatever that means.]) with a translator and one person said "Ohhh" (as in, that explains everything) every time the translator would say anything. I mean ANYTHING. For an hour of "ohhh, I see," I thought I deserved a brownie. Or a bottle of hard liquor. Even a mini bottle. Or something.

Um, yo no quiero lectures in espagnol?

On a barely-related note: on some programs on the Spanish channels, you can push the SAP button and have English captioning come on. It's great.

Orange Crush? No, thanks.

Last week, Agent Orange came into class wearing dark aviator sunglasses. He explained that his allergies were so bad that he looked hideous and he didn’t want to scare us. Someone asked, “Where do you get lenses that big?” I said, “They aviator glasses, stupid.” The stupid part was under my breath.

What's scary about this whole thing is what those glasses have seen. Those glasses were probably vintage. Agent Orange was military intelligence in Vietnam (hence the name...of course, I'm not sure that he uses that name, but we do). He drinks out of a gallon jug of Ozarka spring water. He can drink probably a quarter of a gallon during class. Once, Agent Orange walked by with a pen in his hand, stopped, looked down at it and gave it to this girl, muttering, “This is a hazard.” One of his favorite sayings is that he’s voting for Bush, “warts and all.” (And I thought it was a boil, but hey, I’m not a medical doctor, nor do I play one on tv.)

He thinks that people hold hands around the campfire and scream Kum-Bah-Yah. Yes, scream it. There's another guy here, The Lone Ranger, who used to say something similar about people screaming Kum-Bah-Yah. I think that all these Army dudes could use some post-combat therapy. All the Navy folks I've met here seem pretty stable. Of course, The Lone Ranger was special forces and we're fond of saying he went on one mission too many. Furthermore, I caught him ripping off a joke from David Letterman once when I was trying to recite a case. And so began the beginning of our not-friendship.

Agent Orange is still wearing dark sunglasses. However, he pointed out that he got smaller ones. I told him they were much more mod and hip. I think he was pleased.

Agent Orange quotables
Nov. 3: “We’re trying to solve world problems in a 1946 Ford.”
Nov. 8: “Terrorists like to blow things up.”

Don't get me wrong, Agent Orange is pretty cool. Weird, but okay. Of course, all the terrorism stuff and today's announcement that the Secret Service would be coming to our school (yay, Dept. of the Treasury!) makes me sort of nervous. I wonder if he can read my mind...

Update: Agent Orange is all better now. We can see his eyes. Oh, and he's letting those of us who are taking the MPRE a pass on Friday's class. Whoo hoo!

Aha!

I took this picture this morning but am just now getting around to posting it. As many of you have noticed (thanks Soup), Milly's name really does have two Ls. I guess it's all right, though, that he spells his own name wrong. As long as he can spell his state, then I don't care. Oh, and he saved the world from nuclear disaster. That's new-klee-er, not new-clue-yur.

A Letter from Britney E. McPan

Dear Fans,

I am going to start writing this column now as often infrequently as possible. The reason being is so I can talk directly to you, my fans, who have stuck by me & who continue to support me. Also, I'm not going to be as busy as my Real Self. She's behind in her schoolwork like crazy! I am also going to take some time off to enjoy life. I've actually learned to say "NO!" With this newly found freedom, its like people don't know how to act around me. Should we talk to her like we did when she was 16 or like the Icon everyone says she is? My prerogative right now is to just chill & let all of the other overexposed Asians on the cover of Us Weekly be your entertainment... GOOD LUCK GIRLS!! I'm sorry that my life seemed like it was all over the place the past 2 years, it's probably because IT WAS! I understand now what they mean when they talk about child stars labor. Going & going & going is all I've ever known since I was 15 years old (it's legal if your parents sell you sign off on it). It's amazing what advisors will push you to do, even if it means taking a naive, young, blonde (Why do I keep thinking I am blonde? Hmm, if I had to ask that question, maybe I really am.) Asian girl & putting her on the cover of every magazine Dean's List.

I know now that my knee skirt seams gave out on me this past summer so that I would have no choice but to stop...eating so much, that is. My body was shutting down plumping up and needed rest to diet. It's funny how the Man upstairs works. Yes, I must complain to management about that Man. He always plays his radio so loud! Right now, I have to go-- I really want to watch "Saved" with Mandy Moore Ray with Jamie Foxx and re-runs of "Sex and the City." JAG. I want to enjoy all of the simple things that I missed over the past few years due to working way too much.

Being married is GREAT and I can't wait to start my family! Whoa! I got a little carried away there. What I meant was I can't wait to start practicing law. There is so much change going on right now... not only with me, but in the world, as well. Wow, like, George Bush is totally the President, y'all, and we ought to listen to him and respect his decision. I may only be a pop star, but damn it, I have an opinion on national tv. So, the next time you see my face, hear one of my songs arguments (most notably The Wookie Defense...works every time) or even if I'm the topic of your next conversation, please remember that times are changing & so am I.

Love always, Britney Larry's Idol E. McPan

P.S. I look forward to writing you all again soon. Kevin A and I are finally able to take our Honeymoon trip to Boston on Friday!!
---
In other words, I'm lazy. And I want you to take my Factoid or Fictoid quizzes so I can write less stuff.

Good night, John Boy

Some thoughts on John Ashcroft leaving the Department of Justice

Pros More exposed breasts at the DoJ! Less impromptu, original Ashcroft songs Fewer lawsuits styled American Civil Liberties Union v. Ashcroft DoJ Spring Fling is reinstituted due to the newly lifted restrictions on dancing "The Singing Senators" (Trent Lott, John Aschroft, Jim Jeffords, and Larry Craig) go on VH1’s Bands Reunited

Cons What to do with that $8,000 curtain? There's still Orrin Hatch More lawsuits styled American Civil Liberties Union v. (Fill in name) Nobody knows how to Cotton-Eye Joe VH1 names "The Singing Senators" as having The Best Week Ever

(PS - My apologies if this isn't funny. I'm sort of in a funk right now.)

BTQ: The Unauthorized Biography

The shocking truth...

Milly is somewhat shorter and pudgier than you might expect. He also needs a haircut. But he's endearing in the put-upon kind of way.

Who knew that Fitz-Hume was such a womanizer? It must have been pre-Mrs. Fitz-Hume.

How they met: Fitz basically roped Milly into cheating on a civil service exam. Poor Mills. He played along and they both got promoted, thus sending them on a mission on the other side of the world. And after the credits rolled, I guess they went to law school and then onto clerkships on opposite sides of the country.

As for the movie itself, it was pretty funny but not as funny as say, Fletch Lives, or Sgt. Bilko. In fact, I think that both Mills and Fitz did better off going their respective ways. However, I'm glad that they still keep in touch, even if it is through the comments section of their own blog.

My favorite parts of the movie:
The test scene, when Fitz a) passes wind and blames it on prep boy next to him (Fitz, did you use that move during the bar? If so, was it successful?) and b) clears his throat. Just see the movie - it's too hard to explain.

Fitz to Col. Rhombus (haha!): Thanks for the bruises and you can keep the stool samples.

Fitz (who got most of the funny lines) also has another one, which I won't reprint in its entirety but the answer is "to pee with." Maybe what makes that one so funny is that Professor PR was giving a 1L a hard time one day in Constitutional Law and he (I don't want to say yelled because he wasn't yelling per se, but he's very loud and sort of scary to some people) said to her, "What's your butt for?!" She stumbled a little and said, "What?" "What's your butt for?" She said, "Do you want me to sit down? Is that what you're asking me?" He meant the "but for" argument. Um, yeah, you had to be there.

There you have it, the E. (McPan) True Hollywood Story: Fitz-Hume and Millbarge.

Spies it is

I called Local Video Store and asked if they had Spies Like Us, the namesake of both Milbarge (which I've been spelling with one too many ls this whole time but don't really care) and Fitz-Hume. Scroll to the end of the page here.

Ring ring!
Them: Local Video Store at Candlestick & 1234. This is Brian, how can I help you?

E: Hi. Can you check if you have a video in stock before I drive out there?

Brian: Sure. Is it on DVD or video?

E: Um, I'm going to guess only video.

Brian: What's the name?

E: Spies Like Us. (except when pronounced in E-speak, it's Spahs Lahk Us)

Brian: What?

E: Spies. S-P-aaaaye-E-S. Spayezz like us. (this one seemed to do the trick)

Brian: Okay, hold on.

*inane music*

Brian: Yes, we have it.

E: Really?! (sounding like a disappointed crank caller calling for I.C. Upee and getting a response) Do you have it on DVD?

Brian: Yes.

E: Oh, wow.

An McP review to follow sometime this weekend.

A Federline-friendly site

I think that the guy dressed as Kevin Federline (Why do I think this? The note on the bag said, "Happy Halloween Mrs Robinson - K." Or is that dash a C, making it CK? Calvin Klein? ["That's your name isn't it? It's written all over your underwear."]) at the SBA party left a ginormous (and by ginormous I mean a four-pounder) bag of candy at my carrel. It's so big that I actually thought that someone had left a bag of cat food on my desk at first. (Note to self: wear glasses more often) I wasn't sure how to take a bag of cat food on my desk. Grateful? Weirded out? Happy? Afraid? By the time I decided that I was annoyed, I realized it was actually a "Sweet Tarts Boo! Big Bag" of candy.

Cavities for everyone at Carrel [###]!!! Hoo-rah!

More Factoid or Fictoid trivia

Because I'm lazy and I can.

1. One of these is true:

a. I’ve been married less than 3 years.
b. I’ve been married over 6 years.
c. I’ve been married over 10 years.
d. Marriage? I call it cohabitation without documentation.

2. I enlisted in the Navy and was separated due to medical reasons.
3. I secretly love to watch beauty pageants.
4. I'm a card-carrying member of the ACLU.
5. I used to date a guy who was in Seal training. When I found out he rang the bell, I dumped him.
6. A won’t let me have a sports car due to my previous rollover(s).
7. My favorite drink is a vodka tonic.
8. I kick butt with a bread machine.
9. The first concert I ever went to was headlined by Wynona Judd.
10. In high school I was voted “most likely to be a politician.”

Answers to the last Factoid or Fictoid:
1. In my first election, I actually voted Republican. False. Geez, people. Have a little faith in me.
2. I've made three jumps out of a plane. False.
3. I have more siblings than you have fingers. Even if you have a few extra fingers. True.
4. Mr. McP was the first person I met when I moved to College 1 town. Office Mate was the first person I met when I moved to Law School town. True. Awwww. I have a strange attachment to firsts.
5. I was a member of 4-H. False, despite this picture:

Gentlemen, place your bets

Let me be the first to predict that...W will nominate Robert Bork for the Supreme Court!

P.S. - the minimum bet is $10.

Oh, and if you owe me money (Other Newbie, I'm talking to YOU) about the election, I accept PayPal.

P.P.S. - I would post more, but I'm still getting over the advice Mr. Coffee gave me. I ain't as young as I used to be. (Oh, and to be more specific, the second bit of advice, not the first one, Mr./Ms. Mind in the Gutter.)

Twilight Zone

Today is really weird. Traffic was incredibly light. When I got to school, the parking lot was practically deserted. The library is actually quiet for once. Even the library staff seems to be gone. As far as I know, no regular classes were cancelled due to voting. I have a 3:00 class that was cancelled but that's it.

Wow. It's a weird feeling.

Yesterday, Agent Orange (one of my professors) conceded that Kerry would probably win. At that point, I felt pretty confident that we would win. When a professor whose syllabus consists mainly of telling us that we all ought to vote for Bush says that Kerry will win, that's a sign.

In other news, our PR grades came out. I am, apparently, the last person to know. Every person I told said, yeah, it was posted last week. Thanks, everyone, for calling me all at once to tell me. (For all you nosy people: I did well.*)

*Well = above the curve. Our curve is a C+ curve.

Two panda thumbs up

Must-see movies

My Son the Fanatic - about a Pakistani taxi driver in England. The story sort of revolves around two of his fares and his family. To say more would really give it away. If you like art house type of movies, you would probably like it. IMDB calls it a comedy/drama, so I'm guessing that they didn't actually see the movie. Even though it's been six or so years since I've seen it, I don't really remember anything funny in it.

O Brother Where Art Thou - a great movie, especially if you're a fan of Homer (D'oh, not that Homer...the dead Greek guy). Great spin on The Odyssey. Sirens, cyclops...you name it.

The Royal Tenenbaums - a dysfunctional family who's brought back together by the dysfunctional father. I don't really know how else to describe it. It's got the Wilson brothers (Owen and Luke), Gwyneth Paltrow, Gene Hackman, Angelica Huston, Ben Stiller (probably the only movie I've ever found him tolerable), and Bill Murray. Directed by Wes Anderson, who also directed Rushmore.

Gosford Park - an upstairs/downstairs British murder mystery/comedy. Myscomedy? Directed by Robert Altman (M*A*S*H). It's got Maggie Smith, Kristin Scott Thomas, Ryan Phillippe (Mr. Reese Witherspoon), Emily Watson, Clive Owen (currently in I'll Sleep When I'm Dead), and Helen Mirren. It's got a great commentary track that points out a bunch of little, interesting details.

Movies I'd like to see
Maryam - about an Iranian teenage girl living in the U.S. and how the Iran hostage crisis affects her life. (This movie came out a couple of years ago and is probably available on Netflix, except we don't have Netflix...I know, we're dinosaurs.)

Ray - will probably see it this weekend. Despite the hype, I think it will be really good. Overhype kills me. People telling me "You've. Got. To. See. This. Movie." or "reallyicantbelieveyouhaventseenityet" make me really NOT want to see a movie. Like Elaine, I hated The English Patient.

What, no Swedish chef?

You are Rizzo the Rat.
You have few friends, but are loyal to those you do
have. Maybe if you didn't smell like sewage
you would have more.

SPECIES:
Rodentia Digesta Lotta Grub

HOMETOWN:
Brooklyn, USA

FAVORITE MOVIE:
"Rat On A Hot Tin Roof"

FAVORITE SONG:
"The Pest Is Yet To Come"

FAVORITE FOOD:
You got it, I'll eat it.

HOBBIES:
See "Favorite Food".

QUOTE:
"When do we eat?"


What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

As seen on Ex Mea Sententia.

Halloween wrap-up

Just a few thoughts to finish up Halloween.

The second party we went to was pretty good. The hostess was the Tooth Fairy. And there was some weird, ambiguous email that made everyone think that they were supposed to bring chili to the party. Some people did, which made it funnier.

I said to A, "Do we need to bring anything?" A responded, "Yeah, I think we need to bring some chili. Or not. I'm not sure." I told him that we ought to bring something but that I was NOT bringing a can of Wolff brand chili. I left A in charge of finding "things" to take to the party.

This is what he got - a bag of Cooler Ranch Doritos, the same bottle of red wine we always take to parties, and some Chips Ahoy cookies.

Like I said, we don't get out much.

I may not go to many parties but I'm thinking that anything you can get at a gas station, you shouldn't bring to a party.

I went to the store the next day and got a cute bouquet of orange tulips (it's Halloween, right?). We took that bottle of red and, for good measure, a bottle of white.

When we got there, no one else was there. We even showed up five minutes late. We helped the Tooth Fairy set up some stuff, and then made a run back to our house to get some fondue skewers (the girl in charge forgot those and we only lived a few blocks away). While we were there, A grabbed the bag of Chips Ahoy to bring. I figured that it was better for other people to bring them than us, and hey, we did bring some good stuff earlier. But no way was I bringing a bag of Cooler Ranch. That's just...weird. To his credit, all the Chips Ahoy were eaten.

---

There are a lot of questionable costumes that I saw when the kids were trick or treating. This one girl was wearing a ripped-up nightgown and had a video tape hanging from her neck. Upon closer inspection, it said The Ring. Okay, I have a hard time believing that anyone under 4 feet tall is old enough to see The Ring. We also saw a four year old dressed up as Freddy Kreuger.

What I don't get is the parents who carry around a baby who's clearly less than a year old and trick or treat on the baby's behalf. Dude, the baby's not going to eat any of it, so are you just trick or treating for yourself? Just buy yourself a bag of candy, for crying out loud!

Two girls about 7 years old came up with ratty, color-sprayed hair and ripped up dresses. I think maybe they were going for generic 80's rocker or some kind of horror movie character (seeing as how I'm afraid of The X-Files, I'm not too up on horror movie characters). At any rate, A leans forward and asks one of them, "Who are you, Cyndi Lauper?" She just gave him a weird look and said, "Happy Halloween."

Our across-the-street neighbors won 2nd place in the yard contest. We didn't even know there was one. I heard the lady saying, "Next year we're gonna win first." These people go all out for Halloween but no other holiday. They're kind of weird that way. In our last city, the people across the street used to go bonkers for Christmas. No kidding - they had a five-foot light-up choo-choo train complete with multiple cars that would go up right after Thanksgiving and come down after New Year's.

Hoo-rah!

Well, I find it very interesting that none of my readers would find me a believable cheerleader. Most people who know me in person can't believe that I wouldn't be one.

Last week's answers:
I made an F in a class called MUSC RECTL. TRUE. (My dad wasn't sure whether to be happy about that or not. It sounded pretty suspect to him.)

I didn't get accepted to Texas Tech for undergrad. TRUE. (ouch!)

I was a cheerleader in college. FALSE. (My favorite reasoning on why I couldn't be a cheerleader, from TP: "I think you'd be too worried about someone's mom putting a hit out on you if you beat out their daughter for the final slot." An old-school Texas cheerleader news follower, I see.)

More factoids or fictoids:
1. In my first election, I actually voted Republican.
2. I've made three jumps out of a plane.
3. I have more siblings than you have fingers. Even if you have a few extra fingers.
4. Mr. McP was the first person I met when I moved to College 1 town. Office Mate was the first person I met when I moved to Law School town.
5. I was a member of 4-H.

Guess who's back...Shady's back

One of the first bloggers I ever read, Ex Mea Sententia, is up and running again!

PS - He once had the worst.day.ever. If I remember correctly it involved being locked out of his apartment in his boxers and being broken down on the side of the highway, both in one day. If not, then I'm sorry I'm starting that rumor.

PPS - I waited until I got confirmation that yes, in fact, Ex Mea got locked out twice in one day, the second time being in his underwear. (Nelson Muntz "Ha ha" here.)