30 days hath September

When you try to think of how many days certain months have do you do the "30 days hath September, April, June, and November" or do you do the knuckles thing?

I had never heard of the knuckles thing until college, and I find that it's a good way to check because sometimes I screw up the nursery rhyme.

To do the knuckles thing, make a fist. Give each knuckle and the groove in-between a month, in order. So from Left to Right, January = the pinky knuckle. February = the groove to the right, etc. What you end up with is that every other one (so the groove in-between) is a month with shorter days. February of course will always have shorter days. But for every groove besides February, it's 30 days. It works because July and August have 31 days each and the transition is from the pointer finger knuckle on the left hand to the pointer finger knuckle on the right hand.

Really, this post had no point, but I was just curious. And needed something to write about.

Baby Mama Drama

This guy is hilarious to IM during class (clarification - during his class, not mine; I don't use the internets during class). Here's a recreation of a recent IM conversation:

Coob: hola
Me: back at ya
Coob: what's up?
Me: just sitting around trying to think of baby names. office mate is helping me. she's bored.
[delay]
[delay]
Coob: whoa
Me: oh...it's not like, immediately useful. we're just bored. i'm not pregnant or anything
Coob: oh. i was wondering...
Me: well, the husband and i have been married for 7 years and we haven't agreed on a name yet, so by the time (if) I ever do, 9 months won't be enough. We just have too many personal likes/dislikes and rules about names to agree
Coob: like what?
Me: well, I don't like names that start with a vowel.
Coob: what?
Me: yeah. I just don't. and he doesn't want trendy names or last-names-as-first-names names (jefferson, jameson), or place names (ex: madison, dakota, jamaica, any state, etc.) . we're picky like that. i also don't like the letter "g."
Coob: lol

Mundane Angst

After all the grief I have received about the blogroll, I'm feeling a little angst-y.

Screw you guys, I'm going home. /Cartman

Please note, though, that Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Staten Island have not complained. So suck it up, Bronx and Queens!!!











Yeah. Expect my organizational plan to change at some point. Like when I'm bored.

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...

Just kidding. You don't want to give a lactose-weakling like me a milkshake. Bad things happen. It's really quite depressing because I really like ice cream. Of course, back when I had a superstition about Sonic Oreo blasts and the Stars...uh, not so good. Not only did I get fat but there was that whole lactose disagreement thing. Ugh. Moving on...

SOOOOOOOOOOO...I forgot to say that I learned just minutes before the banking exam that we were on the "better" curve because 1 person was dropped (absences...yes, we have a super-strict attendance policy) and 2 students were actually "visiting" students who didn't figure into our curve. Therefore the curve is much better. Okay, not much. Just better. I need all the help I can get. *high kicks*

For all those wondering how a teetotaler (I'm not really for-sure-sure what that word means but I think I'm using it correctly) celebrates, I opened my first/last beer around 4 p.m. Hey! Just because I'm done with school doesn't mean I don't have responsibilities! Like taking those two yo-yo cats of mine to the vet, which is a two-hour trip. (Anyone want cat sedation drugs? Got a whole bottle.)

Off to run more errands.

Everybody Some All Cool People Love Cat Blogging

Misha being fierce in the collapsible cat box/bed.


Thomas taking advantage of the collapsible part.

Friday Spies©: Karnak the Magnificent Edition

1. Archibald Leach, Bernard Schwartz, Lucille LeSueur.

Who are three people I don't know?

2. To get to the other side.

Why did E. go to law school?

3. Drugs. Massive quantities of drugs.

See previous question.

4. Milbarge.

Name one word that needs another "l" in it. E.g., traveled and canceled.

5. Without question, the single most idiotic thing ever thought up by
the human mind.

What is Jeopardy's "answer with a question" format? Oh wait...

Um

So I just did my first blogroll.

I hope I put you in the right category. If not, holla and I'll change it.

Peace out...It might be Miller time.

It's Unofficial!

I is educated!!!

E. McPan, Juris Doctor Candidate, 2005

It's not quite noon here but it's five o'clock in like, uh, eastern Russia! YAY!

American Cities That Best Fit You:

60% Las Vegas

55% Austin

55% Chicago

55% Philadelphia

50% Atlanta

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Haha - watch out Fitz-Hume.

As seen at TP's!

For Fitz

I like to keep my readers happy.

The white cat is Thomas. The orange one is Misha. They're both boys. I think this is the only picture where they're in the same frame and not fighting.

Smells like 3L spirit

Well, this is my 2nd email-to-post blog.  For some reason the school network is on the blink.  Also I can't get into my regular email and websites are slower than dial-up used to be.

 

So hopefully this will post and hopefully sometime soon.

 

State criminal procedure went as well as could be expected.  There were only 2-3 multiple choice questions where I honestly didn't know the answer, but since it was open-book/note, I just looked them up.  There were probably about 3-4 questions I wavered on, and I thought the question could have been written better, but oh well.  I did learn that apparently, Brady gives you the right to impeaching information about the state witnesses.  Huh.  Good thing I wrote that down in class at one point because I certainly never processed that tidbit of information.

 

The essays were hard, as they were when I took the Con Crim Pro class.  It's not that they're hard.  It's that you're trying to write 5 in 90 minutes, and you're ruling on every pre-trial motion these two yo-yo defendants could come up with.

 

Speaking of yo-yos...the drive to school was horrific.  I left an hour early and got to school with only about 10 minutes to relax.

 

This year's finals iPod mix includes The Knack, Devo (Whip It...of course), and some up-to-date artists such as The Killers.  Something about Mr. Brightside puzzles me.  I just don't know what.

 

My lucky deodorant stick almost gave out on me this morning.  See, I DID need the backup.

 

I wore my Sox hat today.  I wonder if that means I will get a B.

 

I think maybe I ought to just studying for my bank and commercial paper exam tomorrow.

The proof is in the uh, deodorant

I proudly present...E's Lucky Charms



And yes, I do have two thingys of my lucky deodorant. One was getting close to empty (as best as I can tell, seeing as how there's no indicator), and I didn't want to end up half sweaty and un-luckily-protected.

You can also see my new absorbent-deo in the background. So far it's been great, but I'm just not at that level yet where I can trust it in an exam. Really...I'm just not that into it yet. Also, the flavor-smell is "fitness fresh" which seems pretty oxymoronic to me (provided oxymoronic is a word - if not, it's just moronic). The other flavor-smell was Baby Powder, which I despise.

Which brings me to a barely-related story. Special K called me last night and we talked more about the absorbent-deo. I told her it lacked in flavor-smell choice. She was upset that there wasn't "Shower Fresh." I told her I didn't like "Shower Fresh" either. She said all deodorants come in "Shower Fresh."

Even Mitchum? And Lady Mitchum?
No, stupid...that's a writer.
Mitchum?
Yes. Robert. Mitchum.
No, stupid. He's an actor. Or something.
Nun-uh. He's a writer. He wrote a book. I saw it on Dad's bookshelf. It's called...Texas or something.
You're so dumb! [peals of laughter on both sides] That's Michener. He also wrote a book called Alaska and one about Space or something.
No! It's Mitchum.
You're so wrong!
No, I'm right! [Yells for Dad]

We continue to argue as she is off looking for that book.

Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum...Clive someone...Aha! Here it is - Texas. By...[crestfallen] James A. Michener. Uh...is this the guy you were talking about?

I told you so! You're so dumb!

[to Dad, who is wondering why Special K is on the phone telling someone all of his books] Who is Robert Mitchum?

Dad: An actor, dear.

Damn it.

Wish me luck.

It's the...eye of the tiger

...it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

GUESS WHAT?!

I FOUND THE NECKLACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In fact, I'm wearing it right now.

Game on! I'm ready to kick some ass tomorrow.*





*Of course, I haven't yet started studying but at least I've got my deodorant, earplugs, and necklace.

Sweet!

My friend Clarice just got her first (and she claims only) tattoo!

She showed me in the bathroom. She got it on the last day of law school. I was so excited I did some cheerleading kicks, much to the amazement and horror of everyone in the library.

Now if only I could use some Jedi mind tricks on my more serious half to convince him to let me get a small ocean (fish, sea turtles, etc.) inked on me....

Please credit my account 1 good karma

I found a wallet today on top of the microwave in the library lounge. It was a leather Coach wallet, which in itself, is definitely worth more than everything in my wallet + the value of my wallet.

No one was around. I felt weird opening it to look for ID. I pulled out a St. Crispin's ID card. Unfortunately, this was a guest printer card, and so there was no ID. I then had to dig further and found a credit card with one of those ID pictures in the corner. Good thing, too, because I'm not sure I would have recognized the name alone. I was all creeped out that I was digging into someone else's business. What if they came in right then and accused me of stealing it?

I held onto it during lunch, thinking the person might come back. I took it downstairs to the main desk, and one of the people sitting there said, "I just saw X upstairs in the carrels." I searched the carrels. I went back to the lunchroom. I walked by Career Services and happened to see X in there.

Yay! I gave X back the wallet, much to X's relief.

There is a lot of theft around here, and maybe it's just because there's theft everywhere or maybe it's because of the quality of people here or maybe it's because law students probably have a ton of gadgets worth stealing. Who knows, but X had been convinced it was stolen. After all, we get frequent notices saying what items to protect (laptops, PDAs, iPods, outlines [ha!]). We also have a lot of car break-ins, even though we have golf-cart and bike police. I've never seen the campus police thwart a break-in, only write parking tickets.*

In other words, I am hoping that the hour spent worrying about someone else's wallet is credited back to me either Wednesday or Thursday between the hours of 8 a.m. and 11 a.m. A B+ in either class would be nice.

That is all.

*Actually, a law student tipped off the campus police a few weeks ago that some man was staring into a bunch of cars. When apprehended, the suspect had a screwdriver on him. A family member of the suspect was quoted as saying he had a "habit of breaking into cars." Gee...you think?

In the interest of denial of impending exams justice

I bring you (no suprise) a quiz!

Your Brain is 73.33% Female, 26.67% Male

Your brain leans female You think with your heart, not your head Sweet and considerate, you are a giver But you're tough enough not to let anyone take advantage of you!

What Gender Is Your Brain?

Also no surprise that I am not a girly-girl.

As seen at Denise's!

Update: Apparently my brain is also dyslexic. I read my results as being overwhelmingly male. So, uh, just kidding. But let the record reflect that I'm still not a girly-girl.

Whine whine whine

These shoes hurt.

It's hard to study when tennis shoes hurt. This is the last pair of Nikes I will ever own. I have moved on to New Balance. Ahhhhhhhh. In the meantime, I am sitting here with my shoes unlaced because I refuse to go around sock-footed, unlike many of my colleagues.

Ewwww.

Stop it!

Okay. It was funny the first time someone googled Velveeta and got to my site.

But really...no more googling Velveeta to get to my place!

(Besides this post and the prior one talking about people googling Velveeta, I really don't recall talking more than a few times about Velveeta. Odd.)

Awesome

I just signed onto AIM and like, 6 other people signed on at the same time. You should have seen my "sign-on" notification pop-ups - all the way up the screen.

Back to studying.

All right stop! Collaborate and listen!

I bought some new "Vanilla Chill" gum the other day. At first I had typed "vanilla ice" but I realized that something about it didn't sound right.

I think it tastes like that toothpaste Aim.

I asked around the office, giving away several pieces and the consensus was that yes, it did taste like toothpaste, but more people voted Arm & Hammer baking soda toothpaste.

I wondered if Aim was still around. You know...it's blue lettering with the red dot on the "i"? Well, the answer is yes. I saw some at the store the other day.

Very superstitious / Writing's on the wall

I think we're all aware of my deodorant hang-ups, so no need to go over those in great detail again.

But my first final is Wednesday (and naturally I'm blogging instead of studying) and I'm in near-frenzy mode over my test-taking gadgets/lucky things/whatevers. Since my first year of law school, I've worn the same particular necklace and same earplugs and same deodorant. I've also worn like, clothes, but I figure that is obvious to most people.

Here's the rundown
Different deodorant = two bad grades.

I didn't wear the earplugs on only two occasions (one = disastrous results, the other = yay!).

But I've never not worn the necklace.

And now I can't find it. In fact, it's been lost for a couple of months now. I could order another one but obviously it won't be here in time. What to do, what to do???

In the meantime, if you'd like to share your superstitions or test-taking gadgetry, feel free. I'm listening.

Mmm...cheesy goodness

Someone got to my site by googling "Velveeta."

Yummy.




Time to study.

The Answer Girl responds to "What the heck is Frito Pie?"

PS - I wrote this lame poem myself. It's hard to rhyme Texas without going straight for the "exes." Just so you know.

There once was a girl from west Texas
Who loved to eat food that made messes
She loved Frito Pie
With onions piled high
Which explains why she's got all those exes

---------------------------------------------------------

Dear Wayne ( and Jack&Coke ) ,

In short, Frito Pie is the epitome of the food of the gods. I had some audioblogs in the works but with finals coming up, people aren't as willing to wax poetically on air about Frito Pie as they might normally be wont to.

There are two ways to eat Frito Pie. 1. In the bag or 2. In a paper tray. I prefer bag because it's more authentic but I've eaten my share and probably a few other people's shares of the tray-type. My mom also makes Frito Pie at home and we eat it out of bowls, so I guess there is a third way.

Slit the bag sideways so it makes a bowl. Think - if you were going camping the way you would eat cereal out of those tiny cereal boxes. It's like that. Dump as much chili as possible in it. Follow with grated cheese. None of this melted nacho cheese (blasphemy!) or Velveeta or whatever. Onions and sour cream are optional. If you wait too long or are too slow to eat it, the Fritos become soggy. Eww. You want Fritos with crunch. Frito Pie is best eaten at a sporting event, mainly football. It's mega-tasty.

Apparently in other parts of the world it's called a Frito Boat (?) or a Frito Bowl (?). I've never heard of either before, but at least the idea is right.

Furthermore, Frito Pie is an American classic. The page says so.

Read a copy of the article I read on the plane here. Rather than subscribe to Texas Monthly, I hope this link works for a while. It's a cached version of the subscription page.

Yummy.

5 1/2...that's my shoe size!

I think the stress is getting to me.

I had a Being John Malkovich-like dream in which I actually worked on the 5 1/2 floor of a building downtown. While watching that movie I thought it looked pretty cool, especially seeing as how I'm pretty short. I thought it would be awesome to work there.

However, I woke up with a sore back, apparently from hunching over so much on the 5 1/2th floor. It was really frustrating, too. I even had to do the whole stopping the elevator thing and hopping out at the between-floor level.

Of course, I would still totally be in the Small House tv reality show.

These five words I swear to you

This couple is not us. (Play the video)

So even though they like to grill and even though there is definitely some French horn involved...please, don't bombard Weber with emails saying, "That girl is a law student." If you look closely, she's not Asian. I know, it's hard to see.

Friday Spies ©

1. Which Simpsons character are you most like?

Lisa. The brainy, nerdy one who follows all the rules and is upset when others don't. I also have big, yellow, triangular hair.

Speaking of yellow (and this is totally un-pc so you don't have to tell me it is...I know), I heard the curious epithet "coconut," which apparently is like "oreo." (I hadn't ever heard oreo until probably college. It means someone who is black on the outside but acts white [inside]. Same thing with coconut - except brown.) I was like, hmm, interesting. Well, I had never been called anything like that before, but maybe it was the lack of yellow-on-the-outside-white-on-the-inside foods. I pondered this for a second. Aha! Bananas. (I later thought of another one - yellow squash - but banana is much funnier.) Not that I am advocating calling people coconuts, oreos, or bananas, but it is pretty absurd how low people will go. I mean...really, once you've stooped to the level of food, you're running out of insults.

Of course, I would take the whole "banana" thing more personally than others, given my overall hatred of bananas. And before that 7-years-ago banana, the last one I ate was in high school. I later threw it up at a bathroom at Permian. I'm not sure if it was the banana or the place, but after that, I knew for sure that bananas, Permian, and I could not be friends.

2. Name a song you hate that is performed by a band you like. Name a song you like by a band you hate.

This one is hard. There are so many bands to hate and so few good songs nowadays.

A song I hate but by a band I like... Race Car Ya Yas, Cake
A song I like by a band I hate... [this one will have to be answered at a future point...I'm stumped]

3. What skills do you possess? Nun chuck skills? Computer hacking skills?

Shorthand? I can type? Fast? Accurately?

4. Coen Brothers or Farrelly Brothers?

Coen Bros., hands down! Fargo! O Brother Where Art Thou! Raising Arizona!!!

5. What do you predict will be the worst part(s) of the new Star Wars movie?

No idea. I was so disgusted with I that I didn't even bother seeing II. I was also disappointed in the enhancements made in Return of the Jedi.

The Truth Is Out There

(cue The X-Files theme song)

I opened up my gmail account this morning to this:

Blogger Account Information

This email is a response to your request for information about your Blogger account. To regain access to your account, please click on the following link: [yada yada yada]

Clicking on this link will take you to a web page that will let you choose a new password. Once you've submitted your new password, you'll be able to log in to your Blogger account.

If in the process of recovering your password you see the log into Blogger page, please see this Blogger Help article for information on how to fix your browsers cookie settings:

[blah blah blah]

You could also try logging in/recovering your password from a different web browser - we recommend Mozilla Firefox:

http://mozilla.org/products/firefox/

Sincerely,

The Blogger Team

Okay. Um.
1. I did not request any information about my own account.
2. I clicked on the link, which is probably exactly the wrong thing to do if I suspect it's spam or phishing or a spoofed email. So sue me.
3. When I did so, I was directed to a dashboard with a name that was obviously related to my school. I was asked to provide a new password.
4. I was like, what? I logged into blogger using my regular account. It was fine.
5. I went back to that other dashboard and clicked on the "View Profile." To my horror, it had MY email listed but no other blog (for now, at least).
6. In sum, I have no idea what is going on. I didn't set this up. I didn't ask for a reset password. Everyone I know and suspected has denied doing this.
7. I wrote Blogger an email, but if you've ever written them, you can imagine the rapid response I received. They're almost as good at responding as Audioblogger is.

I've been working on that resume...

Suggestions welcome.

E. L. McPan
1060 West Addison
Chicago, IL 60613-4566
emcpan@gmail.com

EDUCATION
St. Crispin's School of Law
Juris Doctor (I hope)
Rank: Top 100%

Honors and Activities
Not a single semester on academic probation! Double or secret!
Shortest 3L at the picture
Kept my carrel for two years in a row despite having iffy justifications for it

University of Phoenix
B.A. in something or another

Honors and Activities
Sophomore once
Junior twice
(Never a freshman or a senior, apparently)

Faber College
Nothing (for sure)
"Music major" (that should explain a lot of things)

Honors and Activities
Double secret probation
Sang "I bet you they won’t play this song on the radio" at my Delta initiation

Experience
Babysitting
Giftwrapping and bow-making
Newsstand worker/adult materials purveyor
Telephone solicitor

Organizations and Memberships
Delta House alumni, St. Crispin's chapter

Respect my authorita!

Look.

I'm supposedly in a secret location. It's similar to the Batcave. You know...everyone knows it exists and it's somewhere...but where?

So if you know where I'm at, where I go to school, my shoe size, my pets' names, whatever, keep that to yourself. If you want to share that information with me, great - I'll add you to my list of stalkers (and ban you from my comments box).

I have my reasons for keeping my "real" life separate from my blog one, and I also don't feel that I owe anyone an explanation for those reasons. If you can't respect my privacy, I'd suggest you stop reading this blog. If you're helplessly addicted, I understand. Just don't expect this place to stay open for business much longer.

Yours truly,
The management

Why broad generalizations are not helpful…at least, generally, that is

I was trying to find a witness for a case I was working on. A classmate suggested I call where that person works and just ask for Said Person. "But," I said, "their last name ends with [common ending for a certain population – for this case, let’s say "-stein"] and everyone around here has a last name ends with a –stein. Goldstein, Bernstein, Rubenstein...that’s not helpful. That’s like asking for...John Smith." We laugh for a minute. Then another classmate says, "Hey…doesn’t your last name end with –stein also?" Uh...good point.

I ended up calling Person’s employment and it turns out names are useless there anyway. They use employee numbers.

(Smells like) Young Adult Spirit

Adidas has put out a new deodorant. Except they're not really calling it a deodorant. It's an absorbent-deo. Whatever, dudes.

Anyway, normally I wouldn't care but it's aluminum-free. Special K, my special little sister, had a thing for a while about aluminum causing breast cancer, so she used those natural products deodorant which didn't do anything. She has finally come back to the world of aluminum-clogged armpit pores (thank god...really...those natural deodorants can only do so much).

I called home last night to tell her about this and my mom answered.

Hi Mom, it's me!
Hi E!

[we chat for a couple of minutes]

Well, is Special K there? I really need to talk to her. I have something important to tell her.
Um...okay.
It's about deodorant. (as if that would have cleared things up)

Special K gets on the line. I inform her of this wonderful discovery. She is not impressed.

But...it's supposed to absorb the wetness, thereby saving your shirts from hideous armpit stains!
Oh, well why didn't you say that first?! Wow!!!

[Mother McPan overhears the excitement. Special K says, E. just told me that this deodorant won't make yellow pit stains!]

Later, the phone gets handed back to Mom. Mom says, I thought when you said deodorant it was like, code for "men" or something. I didn't know you were really going to have anything important to say about deodorant.

Now you know how I roll. Deodorant = important in my life.

So I bought this new deodorant. So far, it's pretty scratchy when you put it on. I'm used to wearing a soft solid but it gets all greasy on the dial eventually. I haven't had much occasion to sweat lately, so this absorbent-deo hasn't really been tested. But I shall keep you all updated.

(Fair warning: There will be a brief hiatus from the absorbent-deo experiment next week. I shall go back to my regularly-scheduled lucky deodorant for final exam purposes. Really. I'm that superstitious.)

I'm lovin' it

As seen at Stag's!

Get your own here!

Next to last day of law school...ever!

This about sums it up.

Ewww

I received an email today from "Gas Relief."

First of all, that is disgusting. And private.

As it turns out, it's not a Terrance & Philip kind of gas. It's the kind you put in your car.

"Gas Relief" was promising me free gas for a year. (Obviously this was in my Junk Mail box.)

At any rate, having the name "Gas Relief" gets an ewwwwwwww.

Um

If you already know my blog address, why would you bother googling emcpan.blogspot.com?

Weirdo. Cool.

P.S. - Wayne, I am working on an answer to your Frito Pie question. You will be sorry you ever asked.

I see the future

And I'm gonna be fat.

First off, I love eating. It's one of my favorite things to do. So much so that I would consider putting it on my resume as "Eating." Not "Gourmond" or "Bon Appetit" or anything that sounds like a magazine.

However, I like to eat especially when I'm stressed. This is not so good for someone who thinks lawyers are stressful to deal with.

As I was IMing Beanie (being doubly comforted by the fact that her name is also a food), I said something like, I'm just seeking comfort. And maybe some wonton soup. Right at that time she was suggesting that I might ought to eat some wonton soup. Now we're talking....ahhhhhhhhhh food.

This brings up two things.

1. I think I'm related to Beanie.
2. I have a question about IM jinxing.

1. is self-explanatory. No further discussion needed. I just wanted to alert all y'all.

2. Remember when you used to say "jinx!"* every time you and another person would say the same thing at the same time? So then it evolved into something like "Jinx, joke, you owe me a coke" or something similarly nonsensical. Well, what would one owe another in IM jinxing? I say this because as LQ was IMing me in her tipsy state, we both IMed the same thing at the same time. And then today as Beanie and I were thinking about wonton soup together. So... is there anything I should be getting in return for a jinx?

*Jinx
1. A curse put upon someone
2. When two people say the same thing simultaneously
3. An artificial intelligence robot that made friends with a young boy at Space Camp. Best known for launching said friend into outer space. "Max and Jinx...friends forever."

What, shorthand is obsolete?!

You are 'Gregg shorthand'. Originally designed to
enable people to write faster, it is also very
useful for writing things which one does not
want other people to read, inasmuch as almost
no one knows shorthand any more.

You know how important it is to do things
efficiently and on time. You also value your
privacy, and (unlike some people) you do not
pretend to be friends with just everyone; that
would be ridiculous. When you do make friends,
you take them seriously, and faithfully keep
what they confide in you to yourself.
Unfortunately, the work which you do (which is
very important, of course) sometimes keeps you
away from social activities, and you are often
lonely. Your problem is that Gregg shorthand
has been obsolete for a long time.


What obsolete skill are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

ARRRGH! Just die already!!!!!!!!!!

Ann Coulter is on the cover of Time this week.

And she's wearing the pointy shoes. I HATE the pointy shoe look. And these even have a bow on them, as if to soften the idea that they're pointy and dangerous. Like painting toxic waste skull pictures pink instead of yellow.

NONONONONONONONONO.

No pointy shoes. Even with bows.

No Ann Coulter, too, but this post is mainly about the shoes.

Back to your regularly scheduled footwear.

I'll be your huckleberry

Wow!!! I was just witness to a parking lot shouting match between people who wanted a certain space.

I was pulling out my spot (way at the far end...I'm not allergic to walking) and ended up stuck behind a long line of cars who were trying to get close spots. There was one car holding up the entire line because he wanted the 2nd spot (1st non-handicapped) and there was a couple loading up their car right then. Except two spots (like, the # 5 and 6 spots) to the left were ready to leave, reverse lights on. They couldn't because this moron refused to either give up the good spot or back up or whatever. So after a long car ballet the two cars managed to pull out and another car pulled into the #5 spot. Sheesh.

So I'm just trying to leave. I'm not trying to park. The lady who got the #5 spot jumped out of her car and started yelling at the people waiting for the #2 (the people leaving it had a ton [and I mean sacks and sacks and sacks] of stuff and it was apparent that they weren't even close to being done loading the car) spot.

I try to pull around the #2 car but I can't leave because #5 lady is standing in my way, yelling and pointing at the #2 car. I see the woman passenger of the #2 car get out and start yelling back. #5 continues to shout. #2 man/driver rolls down his window briefly but I couldn't tell if he said anything.

Eventually I just pulled around and left but I found that this experience made my afternoon a lot more exciting.

Other exciting grocery news: they now make bags solely of the flavor of Hershey's Miniatures you like. Rather than the mixed flavor bag (regular, Mr. Goodbar, Krackle, Dark), you can now buy a WHOLE BAG of Mr. Goodbar!!! Wow! They now also have individual serve salad dressing pouches like you get when you buy a fast food salad. They had those little individual ranch cups but I didn't want that. So now they have light ranch and I think a vinaigrette. Super cool. My shopping needs are almost completely fulfilled. Now I just need places that sell diet ginger ale.

Shields at 20%!

You Know You're Addicted to Star Trek When...

Your favorite drink: Tea, earl grey, hot You can quote the name of every single episode just by watching the first 10 seconds of the introductory clip You own 13 Star Trek Technical Manuals and Blue Print Schematics of all Starship but you no longer need them Ever seen the movie Galaxy Quest? See...I DO need to keep those blueprints! When seeing a doctor, you're afraid of getting a shot and ask for a hypospray instead Your electronic project: Positronic brain I had a friend who was complaining about the way he and his wife would make dinner choices, the whole "Where do you want to eat?" "no, where do YOU want to eat" and he ended the story with, It would be so much easier if there was a positronic link so we could just get to the point without having this conversation. You have 4 TVs at home and each of them are playing TOS, TNG, DS9 and VOY respectively 24 hours a day non-stop You remembered the lock up code that Data uses on the Enterprise's Main Bridge before beaming down to meet Dr. Soong and Lore You've learned playing the song "The Inner Light" with a penny whistle After broken your neighbour's window, instead of just running away, you try to use the "Picard Maneuver" to escape You're hosting a conference, your response to any suggestions: Make it so You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who are addicted to Star Trek.

Get Your Own Addicted Meme Here

More cool things for your blog at
Blogthings

Sweet Frito Pie

Update: Soup has mixed feelings about this whole men = Frito pie, seeing as how he is a guy who happens to love Frito pie. I said, well, isn't that like if I said I happen to love cherry pie? He conceded that I had a good point. I win again.

However, I would say that "It's raining Frito pie" isn't exactly the most awesome mental image. Well...it could be worse. I guess I would take raining Frito pie over raining frogs or locusts.

-----------------

By a vote of 2 - 0, THL and I have decided there there is just entirely too little objectifying of men going on.

Therefore, desirable men shall be called "Frito Pie." As in like the Warrant song Sweet Cherry Pie.

Let me describe a Frito Pie man for you:

1. Ripped - after all, Frito pie is crunchy and I figure you can't get ripped without crunches
2. Salty - that is, he isn't afraid to use bad words when the situation warrants it
3. Hot - because nobody like cold chili
4. A little cheesy
5. A little corny (in that magazine I read that something like 80% of all the corn grown in Texas is used for Fritos...wow!)
6. Depending on whether onions were used, he might make you cry. But it's worth it
7. Always there during football season
8. Not afraid of carbs
9. Slightly messy but well worth it
10. and of course...Disposable

So there you have it. The top ten reasons why men = Frito Pie.

I'm sure there are more and much funnier, slightly dirtier things to say about men and Frito Pie but I shall leave them to you and your dirty mind.

Remember, my mother reads this blog (and apparently, so does my mother-in-law). AND I just got an email from my mom saying she broke a rib, she's all alone this weekend, and she had to dispose of a dead mouse at the store she works at. But the good news is that she got a promotion (title only...there are like 2 positions at the store: owner and not-owner). LOL. My mom broke her rib and she told us this via email at midnight.

So all y'all be nice to my mom. She's having a very hard day.

Designated driver - for the entire damn internet

Last night I was accosted by two different bloggers (who shall remain unlinked-to for the time being but you KNOW who you are), both drunk (not together) and IMing me like mad.

It was out of control. I could barely keep up. And I was sober!

Since when did word get out that I was the go-to girl for drunk-IMing? I'm not mad or anything, just amused because a few nights ago I had a friend call and say, "We're too drunk to drive," to which I responded, "Can I wear a gray jacket with navy pants?" Dealing with buzzed IMers is much easier than trying to figure out what my friends are yelling into the phones at a crowded bar. I should have told them to hang up and IM me instead. Much quieter.

Maybe the fact that I'm blogging right now is a clue that I can be reached. Um...good night. I'm off to have a beer.

Genco Olive Oil Company, here I come

You are Vito, the self-collected, family-oriented
type who looks at their priorities once they
get older. Sure, respect is good and all that,
but what's a day without the grandchildren?

Which Godfather Character Are You? brought to you by Quizilla

Of course...it all makes sense now. Those two years of Italian finally will be useful.

Cue music...DALLAS

Now, I should preface this post with a few warnings. I don't think I've ever watched an episode of Dallas. I sort of vaguely remember it being too "grown up" for a small girl and furthermore, I had no idea of what in the world was going on. Plus I remember it coming on very late at night.

I recognize the song, though. I mean, even Canadians know it. They used to play it at the Air Canada Centre in Edmonton whenever the Stars would play. It made me laugh every time. I'm not sure if it was more of a mocking sort of thing or if they just thought it was appropriate because of the Dallas connection.

Anyhoo...if this blog played audio, it'd be playing the theme song to Dallas right now.

Tonight I discovered the most crazy-fantabulous show called Sheer Dallas on TLC. It was on complete accident, seeing as how most TLC shows are about having a baby, a wedding, traumatic health events or about home ownership. But trust me, nothing else was on and I barely know how to operate the DVD player and I'm holding down Ft. McPan alone this weekend.

So Sheer Dallas is basically about hella rich people in Dallas and their stylists. Really! The women use like a can of hairspray a day. They wear dark red lipstick in the middle of the day (okay, so maybe I've done that...most days of the week). They live in a pink Barbie mansion. When the mom wanted to persuade the daughter not to wear the veil over her face at the wedding, she bought her literally dozens, if not a hundred, of thousands of dollars' worth of diamonds. After all, she spent $40,000 on those teeth so you might as well be able to see them during the processional.

So that's one part. The other part of the story was about this successful salon owner in Dallas who got proposed to by her boyfriend in New York.

I saw a clip for a future episode and this guy is judging the Miss Dallas County pageant and he's getting Botox right before. The good thing about getting the Botox, he says, is that if he sees something he really doesn't like at the pageant, he will have absolutely no facial expression.

Heeeelarious. Really. It's not as vulgar/shock value as other reality shows and they do a good job editing it. So if you're home alone on a Saturday night and have run out of memory stick space, having used it all up on photos your cat last night, then I would suggest watching this show.

I heard it's National Poetry Month or something

So I present to you one of my favorite poems, John Berryman's Dream Song No. 4. Berryman was an American poet with, uh, some real problems (he did win a Pulitzer Prize, though). He was buds with all the people to be buds with in the day (Roethke, Schwartz, Lowell, Jarrell). He's sort of like a later F. Scott Fitzgerald in the drunk, often desperate, frequently socially isolated, manic, misunderstood white male kind of way.

Filling her compact & delicious body
with chicken páprika, she glanced at me
twice.
Fainting with interest, I hungered back
and only the fact of her husband & four other people
kept me from springing on her

or falling at her little feet and crying
"You are the hottest one for years of night
Henry's dazed eyes
have enjoyed, Brilliance." I advanced upon
(despairing) my spumoni.--Sir Bones: is stuffed,
de world, wif feeding girls.

--Black hair, complexion Latin, jewelled eyes
downcast . . . The slob beside her feasts . . . What wonders is
she sitting on, over there?
The restaurant buzzes. She might as well be on Mars.
Where did it all go wrong? There ought to be a law against Henry.
--Mr. Bones: there is.

I wish my name were Navin Johnson

Sooooo, to go back to the Friday Spies question of what else would I have named my blog...well, sort of - I had a hard time finding an AOL screen name that wasn't taken.

Here's just a small sampling of names I tried but alas, were denied.

Rockafeller Skank
Junior Mint
Jolly Rancher
Misdemeanor
Public Offender
Xyphoid Process
Mandibular
GoStars
StarsFan
MapleLeafs
(practically anything hockey-related was taken)

I solicited potential screen names from John Boy who sits next to me in one class. He suggested KimCheeExpress. He also suggested something like Repeat Offender, so I told him never mind, he could go back to playing Solitaire.

I finally settled on a name but was almost immediately dissatisfied with it. While it is okay in itself, it tends to look like it says something else, which makes people cringe and say Ewww. But I think it's too late to try to find another name. I think I'm stuck with it for life.

It's triplets!

Wow. Happy blog birthday(s) to Energy Spatula, Stag, and Alan!

Dude. Y'all must all file your taxes early to all have started your blogs on April 15. Weird.

Dream a little dream

Ever have a dream about/involving other bloggers? Bloggers you've never met?

Stag has. And I was trying to start a fight apparently, haha. I guess now she doesn't have to meet me in person. She wouldn't learn anything new about me.

I once had a dream about Fitz, although I don't remember what it was about. I think maybe that we had a class together or something. It was a long time ago and I found it disturbing. Not that I was dreaming about Fitz, but that I could dream up an image of someone I've never met. I mean, how could I know what he looked like? Unless of course, I'm just really psychic like that or something.

Oh.My.God.

Someone has not only hacked into my head, they've accessed my dreams!!! Truly creepy.

But in case you're wondering what kind of demented happy dreams I, Elaine Laramie McPan, have, click here.

If you're not into that but you like to see badgers doing squats, be my guest.

Thanks to Spilt Milk.

Friday Spies ©

1. What names did you consider for your blog?

Not too many others, really. I didn't try too many other names, so for all I know, "theneutralzonetrap.blogspot.com" is someone else's blog. I had a heck of a time, though, trying to figure out a name for IMing. I should have chosen a newer service than AOL. Dang near all those names have been taken by every child older than 2.

2. What is your favorite adult beverage and why?

Diet Dr. Pepper. It tastes more like regular.

When I was younger (and much slimmer), I drank regular Dr. Pepper. Then I moved onto Dr. Pepper with lime in high school. By my second year of college I had been demoted to Diet and I've stayed with it ever since.

But alcohol-wise (which is rare and so I gave it second billing to DDP), I like a nice amaretto sour. I like drinks with fruit. It makes me feel like I'm being healthy or something. Plus, amaretto sours are small but tasty.

3. If you could cancel 3 televisions shows, what would they be?

I pretty much only watch like 3 television shows, so I'd cancel all the rest. I guess out of a show I actually know anything about, I'd cancel The Today Show just because I can't stand Katie & Matt. And that fat guy who does the weather.

To change the question, though, I'd totally bring back Northern Exposure, Monty Python's Flying Circus, and JAG. Mainly because I missed most of this year's season and found out they're cancelling it.

4. You've been asked to host SNL. Which cast would you choose to work with, and who would you choose as the musical guest?

I'm not sure if this has to be the complete cast from a particular era or if I can just pick and choose funny people to work with. I'm going to assume the latter. I pick Jane Curtain, Eddie Murphy, Will Farrell, Kevin Nealon for the news, Tina Fey, and John Belushi (semi-not-on-crack, please).

Musical guest - the Man in Black, baby. And June Carter Cash so they could sing Jackson.

5. What will Britney Spears name her baby and which three names will she consider and reject before settling on the "winner"?

Rejected names
Bayou Le Batre
Kevanny
SMP?

The Winner
Elaine McPan-Spederline

For Stag, who loves all things Texas

My brother has some nice pictures of bluebonnets (the Texas state flower - DUH!) up.

Another really nice picture here. (Um, okay, until I figure what is going on over there, this link doesn't work.)

Notes on audioblogging with Fitz

Pros
Duh - it's fun!

Things I would do differently

• We only had 5 minutes so we kept redoing it in order to try and get as much stuff in.
• One rerecord wasn't our fault, though. I didn't push the buttons fast enough and Audioblogger just ate that recorded bit. It was probably the one in which I expressed my disappointment with him in not pronouncing "oil" "uhl." And maybe talked about how my elementary school had pictures of Texas heroes around the classroom rather than the US presidents.
• Every time I said BTQ I had to make sure I wasn't going to say BTK (as in the serial killer dude). As a side thought, what would that "Q" stand for? Bind, torture, and quash? Bind, torture, and quiz? Bind, torture, and quarrel?
• Not that it would have happened, but it would have been hilarious if I had somehow gotten him to sing "Abilene." Cuz I want to know if Abilene does have the prettiest girls I've ever seen.
• Our discussion of the possibility of me sportscasting fishing shows where they fish in stocked tanks didn't make the cut.
• I shouldn't have used an earpiece. I thought the earpiece would facilitate things (don't ask what I mean by that because I have no idea) but I think it accounts for the discrepancy between the loudness of my voice and Fitz's voice.
• I suppose we could have poked more fun at other bloggers, but alas, I hadn't made a list of bloggers to laugh at. I shall plan better next time.

How do you spell...

I asked Office Mate how to spell "schnapps." She stared off into space and said S-C-H-N-A-P-P-S.

I wiggled my fingers on the tabletop and then agreed.

I then asked, Hey, when you think of how to spell a word, how do you do it?

I picture the word spelled out.
What?
Like I see it written down.
Like on the schnapps bottle?
No, like on a sheet of paper.
Like you're writing it as you spell it?
No, it's like a dry-erase board and I just see the words appear.
[I give a "weirdo!" kind of look but then give my own confession] I type them out.
On your computer?
No. Just wherever I am, I put my fingers down and pretend that I'm typing it even though there's not a screen or anything.
Oh. I'm very visual.
Well I'm very....[can't think of a word so I do my pretend-typing on the tabletop]

So my question is, when you're trying to think of how to spell a word, how do you do it?

Live from the Pacific Time Zone, it's Wednesday night (Thursday morning on the east coast)!

So if you've ever wanted to know what two native west Texans sounded like when having a telephone conversation, here's your chance.

I present to you, Mr. Fitz-Hume of Begging the Question.

1st half

And to answer Soup's question, which was whether BBQ should be wet or dry rubbed and served wet or dry, the answer is dry rub and dry with sauce on the side.

Halftime! Get yer frito pie while it's still hot and before the chili makes the fritos too soggy...

2nd half

The answer to the last question was taken off the air and it was Tim McGraw.

Unfortunately, as Fitz pointed out, two west Texans talking on the phone can't cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time.

Start saving your pennies, suckas

Cuz I am worth $1,793,350.00 on HumanForSale.com.

The bad news is that practically everyone else is worth a lot more. Crap. Maybe it would have helped if I had done the Facethejury thing but I'm not pasting a picture of myself up there for some dating/hotornot kind of site just to be worth more on HumanForSale.

As seen on Not Guilty, who like everyone else, is worth like, twice as much as me.

Oh yeah...

I was on the front row in all the pictures. I told you. You can probably even see the glass of water I'm trying to hide. Dude. It was hot outside. Well, it wasn't so much that it was actually hot but when you've got a few hundred people squished together and you're all wearing black or navy, it's like the perfect target for a heat-seeking missile. Plus it took forever to get us arranged and we were out there in the full sun.

Then we had to wait around some more while certain 1L section pictures were done. Then we went back for a recap photo of sections B and C (we also took one our 1st year...not all sections do, but it's traditional for C to do so) so we can say, Hey whatever happened to that dude? when we get the picture back.

...or the charging instrument is subject to being quashed

I don't know why this is funny to me, unless it's because I'm outlining while starving.

Maybe I'm not saying that right. "being quashed"? Or just subject to a motion to quash?

Quash. I love it. Quashy quashy quash.

*sigh* Back to work.

Dang it

I was called out by a local reader who saw me after the torturous picture-taking event.

Hey!
[I stop and wave.]
After all that and you're wearing a black suit?
[I try to cross my eyes.] My friend suggested I wear a bright red halter top dress with giant black flowers but I thought that was just the liquor talking. At least I resembled everyone else today.

So yes, I wore a plain black suit with a white cami top and plain black heels. Boooring. But I had as backup a navy suit and two pairs of navy heels and for good measure, strappy black sandals and denim sandals. I don't know why I had so many shoes today but they are all in my trunk now, waiting to go home.

This marks the END of the picture-taking* clothes angst. Thank god. I'm now back in a tank top and jeans with flower flip-flops. Life is normal again.

*Author reserves rights to develop more and worse angst about other clothing decisions.

Ooh la la

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

As seen at Confessions of an Exhausted Mind!

Two cents

In LSC (Law School City), there are a lot of panhandlers. You know, people asking for money. Sometimes they have signs. Sometimes they have dogs. Sometimes they have signs and dogs. For the most part, LSC panhandlers are laid back, not approaching cars or pedestrians too much.

However, occasionally they do crazy things. A and I were coming back from dinner one evening and we were on the access road, waiting to turn around so we could get back on the highway. This guy walks out into the middle of the crosswalk and lays down. Then he starts spazzing out, big time. The light turns green but no one can move without running him over. Cars start to honk. A and I look at each other. When it looks like one car might run him over, the guy gets up and continues across to the other side.

Generally in big cities, I haven’t ever really had too much interaction with homeless people. Probably the worst was San Francisco but they generally just kept to themselves. At night you just had to step over them sleeping on the sidewalk. In Chicago I ended up buying a “homeless newspaper” to get some guy off our back. While eating on the sidewalk in New York we were asked to buy another “homeless newspaper” but he left after we said no. Even in Dallas I never experienced as much panhandling. But LSC is just horrible.

Even worse is the fact that non-homeless people hang out in the street all...the...time. There’s a lot of charity-type drives that go on, but these people are persistent. The worst are these people who wear what looks like white band uniforms with some red trim. The women wear white tights and nurse-looking shoes. They also wear those bucket band hats. Like I said, weird. I don’t know what they do/stand for but they are almost always African American.

They also sell newspapers in the turn lane here. I wonder what kind of setup they have. I think it’s “you get x many papers and when they’re gone you can go home” because they’re not there for fixed periods of time. Sometimes the turn lane guy is still there at 6. Sometimes he’s gone before 3. I feel really sorry for them.

Homeless people get you a lot downtown when you’re putting quarters into the meters or at sidewalk restaurants. I once had a guy who looked like he was 15 years old ask me for money to eat. I said sorry (like always) and he looked at me with really sad eyes and said, “I’ll eat it in front of you.” At that point I was torn. I kept going because I was trying to get back to the office and I had the support of Other Intern and Mr. Ohio behind me.

I always called these people “homeless people” but A calls them bums. I tried calling them hobos but that just made me laugh. I don’t know if there is a PC term for these people.

A friend of ours in Houston once saw a man with a sign that just said “I’m not lying. I need a beer.” Our friend could certainly understand that and so he gave him one.

This post (like so many others) has no point. But it's not about fashion for once.

What's a book?

Under penalty of chain mail threat, I present this "meme."

1. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be saved?

I didn't read this book. In the Honors English class, we read The Martian Chronicles, which of course, scared the poop out of me. I have a very low scary things tolerance. But at any rate, this book sounds hot. As in temperature. Not Jenna Jameson or Paris Hilton hot. I hope I'm not stuck in it for long.

2. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Yes. George from (NO, NOT SEINFELD - YOU GOTTA WAIT FOR THE END) A Room With a View, both the book and especially the movie. H.O.T. It's maybe not coincidental that I think that A sort of bears a slight resemblance to him.

3. The last book you purchased?

Are you kidding me? Textbooks. The UCC. Banking law. State Criminal Procedure. For leisure? I can't even think that far back. Well, actually I think it was a year or two ago and I got The Wishbones, except I never remembered actually buying it and sometimes wonder if I stole it on accident.

4. What are you currently reading?

Again, textbooks. I got halfway through Friday Night Lights while on the flight home from Hawaii but haven't finished it yet.

5. Five books you would take to a deserted island?

Definitely not the UCC.

1. The Great Gatsby
2. Does an encyclopedia set count? I don't want to be bored.
3. Like Fitz, our copy of the US Army's Survival Manual would be a good idea.
4. A giant compendium of Shakespeare because I'll never figure that out.
5. Maybe a Mad-Libs book. I'm assuming I'm going to need some light entertainment as well.

Alas, Centinel was under the mistaken impression that I can read, have read, or am smart or something like that. Unfortunately, my honest answers have shown me to be d-u-m.

And since a) I don't believe in forwarded emails, chains, etc. and b) I am supposed to be figuring out what to wear for my picture in approximately 1 hour, I will not be naming three recipients to endure this line of questioning. At least, for now.

Vocational guidance counselorrrrrrrr

Vocational guidance counselorrrrrrrrr
Vocational guidance counselorrrrrrrrr

I met with the career services lady. She was pretty helpful as far as figuring out some spacing dilemmas I had (whatever happens, I am apparently to avoid the dreaded third page of a resume) and suggesting what might be compressed. She thought my cover letter was pretty good and did a good job of "selling" myself. Taking Centinel's advice, I pushed the "benefit" of all my "features."

My only struggle now is my writing sample. My first year appellate brief (which I would never submit anyway; first because I lost it when I downloaded Service Pack 2 and it ate my entire computer, second because it was a horrible sample and I would hope I've improved since then, third because the mock case was based on Lawrence v. Texas and I'm not really sure I had a great equal protection argument on why certain acts should be cool for everyone...I have the feeling my employer is pretty Red State, but whatever) was mediocre at best.

My write-on was written during a cold medicine/post-spring exams and much partying afterwards-haze. I'm fairly sure I graded on.

My comment for the Journal said that notification laws for pregnant teenagers who want abortions are dumb.

My legal history paper charted the parallel histories of welfare and abortion rights cases in the Burger Court. And probably concluded that the Burger Court was dumb, but I honestly don't remember. It was mostly written in a panic the last week I had left to write it.

So, um, I don't have anything that's of general interest. Like what you might find in the "Today" or "Life" section of the paper. I could ask my old firm for memos but I don't know that they would give them up. Plus, I didn't get an offer. I feel kind of weird asking them if I can have a few memos.

Last, The Neutral Zone Trap probably is also mediocre at best.

Decisions, decisions...

Fashion Week

It's Fashion Week at St. Crispin's, meaning the class picture of all of us who were dumb enough to keep paying $600+/credit hour is coming up. Naturally, this picture is also not free.

I spent a good 45 minutes on the phone with my three best girlfriends and trying to garner fashion advice overnight and via the airwaves. This isn't going to be pretty. In the first year picture I'm wearing green cotton pants and my favorite ugly gray Old Navy shirt. However, that particular fashion disaster can be mitigated - at the time the picture as snapped, A was in the middle of a long surgery and I drove all the way to the school for that picture. Then I left. I had originally thought he'd be out of surgery and into recovery by that time but it was taking longer than planned.

So this time I thought I would make an effort at looking nice decent presentable. The dress is either "business" or "business casual," I can't remember which. Tired of three years of black and navy skirt suits, I thought I'd wear these navy slacks from Ann Taylor. They have a tiny light blue pinstripe and a slightly bigger silver/metallic/gray pinstripe, which from a distance looks white or tan. I wasn't going to wear a jacket (but I was planning on wearing a shirt, of course) but my friends insisted that I need a jacket. Well, the pants didn't have a jacket. So I was trying to match jackets but matching navys is impossible. So I thought I'd go with a camel colored blazer. I thought it was cute but they thought it looked prep school. Then I tried a dark gray blazer, which A said looked fine but I think he was just tired of me coming in asking, "Does this match?"

Since they said I can't wear a gray jacket with black pants (but oddly enough okayed a black jacket with gray pants), I guess I'm back to my choice of a black skirt suit or a navy skirt suit. I also own two brown suits, but someone thinks that brown suits can never be snazzy. Plus one I'm probably too fat for and the other is tweed. Way too hot to be standing around outside in while waiting for all the morons to figure out that tall people should be in the back.

This of course, brings me back to the diurnal dilemma of what shoes to wear. Obviously, I am a girl who goes for comfort. If it doesn't have nylon laces or it's not called a flip-flop, then I'm going to be uncomfortable. I might try just wearing flip-flops or open-toed strappy sandals because I figure you won't see my feet. And I'm certainly not wearing any more hose unless I have to.

GRRRRRRRRR. I wish I had a light-colored pants suit. Or wish I was taller so I could be farther back and more of me would be obscured.

I hate school pictures.

We have clearance, Clarence.

Roger, Roger.

What's our vector, Victor?

Ugh - I am drafting a cover letter right now for a job application. The suggested format is like this:

My name

Date

Their name/the secretary's name

Dear Person,

1st Paragraph: Why I am writing you this lame cover letter (duh)
2d Paragraph: Why I am awesome for this job (duh)
3d Paragraph: So...When are you gonna hire me?

Sincerely,
/s/ Elaine McPan

Enclosed: stuff you're gonna throw away anyway

Part 2 is lame because I feel dumb saying things like "I wrote on a nationally ranked Journal!" "I made an A one time!" Dude...everyone with this credential will say this.

"I won a Crappy!" Okay, so probably most people won't have that one, but still...explaining my blog and the award might be awkward, at least on the first visit.

"For a writing sample, please visit The Neutral Zone Trap but don't mind all those commenters." This would be ill-advised, right?

Hobbies: blogging? commenting? linking? listening to Johnny Cash? Watching VH1? Odd...I'm uniquely unqualified for any real legal job because not only am I the lowest denominator of lazy people but I'm highly educated.

Yeah...this selling myself part ain't going so great. I'm meeting with the Career Services lady tomorrow.

Dress right dress

From our "Graduation Fact Sheet"

GRADUATION CEREMONY – [location]
12:00 p.m. - Report to [location], for robing (the tam tassel is on the left, and the hood is carried on your right arm) and lining up in alphabetical order. Please wear appropriate attire, including footwear.

(Yes, it is bolded and underlined just like that.)

Okay, so this now eliminates my question of whether I should go a) naked and/or b) shoeless. Apparently I must be wearing appropriate attire and some sort of footwear. I'm assuming they also mean appropriate footwear. Bunny slippers, glitter flipflops, stormtrooper/Lt. Uhura boots not allowed. Given my recent problem deciding just how ugly a certain pair of tan shoes are, I'm now trying to decide what I should wear foot-wise to graduation. (Body-wise I don't care so much about because that's what the robe is for, although "appropriate" probably doesn't include a tank top and shorts. But that's another problem for another post.)

I don't want to wear boring old black or navy pumps. I have some brown shoes but again - boring. I have lots of heeled sandals but they are mostly black or brown. I don't really like white/off-white shoes. Too Easter-y. I wish I had ruby-red slippers. With little bows. I'm thinking that maybe I will just buy some cheap colorful shoes for graduation purposes. Like teal. Or purple. Why look like everyone else, right?

Any (reasonable) suggestions?

I can't get no...satisfaction

You May Be a Bit Dependent ...

You're more than a little preoccupied with being abandoned. You need a lot of support in your life, at all times. It's difficult for you to survive on your own... And you don't reallly think you ever could.

What Personality Disorder Are You?

Well, I guess now the best I can hope for is that I don't die naked and under mysterious, unexplained circumstances.

I took this test again, being unsatisfied with Marilyn and I don't remember what the result was but it was definitely worse than this.

As seen on Legal Quandary!

Don't kill the messenger

But my planned re-do of the Fitz meets McPan audioblog is on the rocks.

Much like Blogger itself, Audioblogger can be spotty. Every time I call I get nothing and then a busy signal. I've spent more time trying to call Audioblogger or trying to log into Blogger all day than anything else. Unless you know me personally from school, and in that case, I am feverishly working on my outlines so as to do beat you in whatever class we probably don't have together.

Now that that's settled, I am sad. I was even going to try to be funny. Alas, my funniness will have to wait for another day. And for the record, I'm still mad that my audioblog from Hawaii didn't ever post.

I want you to be Frank with me

Update: I received an email that said that these shoes would be okay with pants but not with a skirt. I guess I didn't say that I would actually wear these with a skirt. Does that change your opinion?

I'm going to be frank with you, Pierce.
You're gonna be Frank with me?
I mean, I'm going to be blunt.
Oh good. Otherwise Frank would be Henry with me, and I don't think I could stand that.

I've already asked some people this question, but I want people who are never going to have to lay eyes on these shoes (the tan ones) in person to tell me if they're ugly. I think my friends say they're fine because they would have to see them in person anyway.

I like them because:
a) They're not that witchy pointy-toed look (my god...when will that go out of fashion? Just die already!)
b) I want some light tan colored shoes
c) They almost fit me (the smallest size [5 1/2] is a tad too big on the right heel but I figure a toe pad or a heel pad can fix that
d) They're relatively cheap for the average person (meaning "extravagant" for me but I've decided I may get them).

I need your help because I am a notoriously bad dresser. What, with all these fashion shows nowadays, I'm constantly afraid that my sister(s) mother friend(s) husband(s) [heh - just kidding on that plural] relative(s) everyone someone will take me to Style Court or How Do I Look, etc.

PS - They are not that shiny looking in person.

PPS - If you vote Yes on the shoes, would they be appropriate to wear to a job? If I had one, I mean.

PPPS - Metrosexual shoe advice welcome. Hot Librarians Who Have Lost Their Shoes also welcome to comment.

Here's to hoping the light at the end of the tunnel ain't a train headed my way

I picked up my graduation invitations the other day. They were supposed to come in like two weeks ago. First they were just delayed for a week. Then when they got here, everyone who had ordered invitations got announcements. That's no good for me because I wasn't exactly sure when the ceremony was, so I needed the invitation. Or a butler/personal assistant to keep me in line, but I had already paid for the invitations.

So we all had to write on the box what we REALLY wanted this time and they reprinted them. I picked them up yesterday afternoon. I almost forgot but luckily someone reminded me on the way out to lunch.

I have some mixed feelings about them. You know how your high school or college graduation invitations had a picture of the school on the inside flap? That old pencil-looking drawing that made the school look nicer than it was? Well, this one has the pencil drawing except I have no idea what building it is. I think it's this one undergraduate administration building. That's dumb. Give me a break - I can draw a square building with some windows and doors. It's not that hard.

Anyway, my plan for tonight and tomorrow is to address the invitations and then hope really hard that I don't flunk any classes. I'm only taking the bare minimum to graduate. That's strategery right there.

Of course, outlining, reading, or even listening in class could have contributed toward passing any given class, but why start now?

Fuhled* again

I had a great thing planned for today: Audioblogging with Fitz-Hume.

Unfortunately, Audioblogger was apparently TOO BUSY to let us do our thing. So it's now tenatively scheduled for tomorrow.

Y'all cross your fingers for a no-busy-signal.

*A phonetic spelling of "foiled." At least where I'm from.

PS - He sounds like a normal person, i.e., not as bad of an (how did Stag put that? Oh yes, I believe the exact word she used was "backwoods") accent as me. Except where I'm from, ironically, there aren't any trees. And therefore no backwoods.

Quite honestly, the best cat blogging yet!

Y'all check out Moral Turpitude. Not only does she cat blog but it's also a game!!!

The first post was "guess which box my roommate's cat will fit into?" (I guessed right.)

The second post was "look here, proof!"

The third post was "For all those who don't believe the cat didn't fit into whatever they picked, here is more photographic proof."

Awesome. I believe that the cat blogging bar has been raised. Anyone? Anyone? Anyone?

Friday Spies ©

1. James Bond or Austin Powers?
Bond, baby. All the way. I can't believe this is even a serious question.

2. What is the most romantic thing you've ever done for someone?
You're asking the wrong gal. I am anti-romantic. I don't believe in birthday cakes or Valentine's presents or Columbus Day or flowers or all that.

3. Rachel claims this is her favorite movie. Her actual favorite movie is?
Who's Rachel? No, really - are you asking about that chick on Friends? Because I've never watched it.

4. What is the perfect rock-and-roll song?
Hmmm. Does arena rock count? If so, The Hey Song. If I could get a phone that played The Hey Song when it rang, I could die happy.

5. So what really happened to Milbarge?
You want me to take the gag off?

I HATE you, Blogger

Last night I wrote a great addendicil (new word which I explained the origin of in great detail, but alas, it was eaten by Blogge) to the shirt buttoning question. At this point, I am far too hungry to rewrite it.

So I'll just summarize what I wrote about the Frozen Four, then.

I watched most of the North Dakota - Minnesota game. So not only was I pleasantly surprised to see hockey on tv, but I got a bonus when I looked up at the screen and saw my boyfriend favorite player make a cameo appearance.

Later, as I further avoided homework by taking a bubble bath and reading Sports Illustrated (now they're promising to send me a duffel bag if I renew), I laughed out loud when I read that Parise, the ND goalie had a sort of unconventional style of minding the net, was a mediocre puck-handler and had a tendency to wander. My boyfriend Ed Belfour to a tee, heh. And he played for ND.

*sigh* I wish there were hockey.

Nermal

My sister Special K used to say "normal" "nermal." As in rhymes with "thermal." As you can tell, my sister wasn't quite nermal.

Anyway, I took the How Normal Are You Quiz (45%; somewhat normal) but was annoyed by the questions it asked. Basically it took a few statistics and turned them into questions and based on how other had answered the same question, you were more or less normal. Now I'm not sure how else they're going to measure normalness but I thought it would definitely be a funnier quiz. Like maybe obscure weird things that if you thought were funny or interesting would lead to a "not normal" result.

This question in particular bothered me but I asked Office Mate and she went the other way, so now I'm asking you: Do you button your shirts going from the top to bottom or bottom to top?

The English Impatient

Like my pretend-namesake Elaine Benes, I couldn't stand The English Patient. Quite honestly, I saw it because of all the good reviews it got. And I think it was totally overhyped.

Anyway, I was just wondering if anyone else felt that Sideways was overrated.

*My review of Sideways here.

Oh, and would anyone recommend buying a small hand-held steamer for my clothes? My iron is untrustworthy to steam my clothes and I have a horrible wrinkle in these pants I bought that are dry-clean only. It's on the backside, making it a bad ass wrinkle. Heh. (Sorry, Mom. It was too funny not to say.) Something under $50 or is it even worth it?

An attempt at being serious (uh-oh)

Awhile back, J-A had a post on being Asian in America and a sort of "identity crisis" she was going through. (Hmm, I'm hoping that I'm right in assuming that J-A is a she. I've been wrong before. Oh well.). I was reminded of it yesterday when I went to my alteration shop to get some pants shortened. My tailor, like every tailor except one (who sucked) is Asian. Our favorite donut shop is run by Asians. Nail salons are run by Asians. And of course, I am obviously Asian.

I commented in response to her post that I didn't think I've ever had any type of identity crisis relating to my race except that I never identified with other Asians because in west Texas there just aren't very many out there. Looking back on that, that is probably only a half-true statement.

One of my favorite jokes is that I'm only "passing" as Asian (i.e., faking my looks so as to be perceived as Asian; think Warren Beatty in Bullworth...sort of...and you'll get an idea of what passing is). I say that because I don't feel Asian. I see myself as white, I guess, because that's the default. My family is predominantly white. My husband's family is white. The majority of my friends are white. I like macaroni and tuna casseroles. I hate kim chee. I barely started eating sushi. Tempura gives me a massive headache. I think Ramen is awesome. See what I mean?

J-A read Native Speaker and commented on how the narrator had a sort of chip on his shoulder about being Korean. J-A: "I thought about other Korean Americans I know - how some of them grew up never mixing with other Koreans because they thought it was 'uncool' and they didn't want to be branded 'the Asian'."

Now that I can identify with. Out where I was, I practically was "the Asian." Being Asian in west Texas is...well, I was going to say hard but it wasn't, really. Just different. And often annoying. I have two Asian brothers (both Korean but we're not related by blood, just adoption) and so it's not like I was the only one in the whole town. But my brothers went to different schools than me, so I was certainly the only Asian at my school until the 5th grade. Well, there was one kid in the third grade but they moved and so he was only there for a little while.

What I hated most about being Asian growing up was that it seemed to be some sort of free pass for everyone to be nosy as hell in ways that would now be considered un-PC (not that that stops most people - they just ask the same nosy questions in round-about and painful ways). Where was I from? Am I adopted? Did I know my parents? Why was I given up? Do I speak Chinese? Do I speak Korean? Do you know karate? (No, but I really wished I did, except you know I would only use my powers for smashing their faces in for being so dang nosy. I would have been better off with The Force and then I could just convince them to shut up.) Do I want to go back? Do I want to find my parents? On and on. As you can imagine, being in the second grade and explaining this to everyone all the time is tiresome. Obviously, I couldn't just say eff-off (sorry mom) because that wasn't really an acceptable answer at that age.

I dutifully answered all their nosy questions and resented them for being jerks about it. I don't think I really turned it into a resentment of Asians, but I felt singled out because I was Asian. Nobody asks those kinds of questions to non-Asians. I didn't consciously reject Asian culture or whatever, because I wasn't raised with any.

I also hated being called "exotic." I'm not a flower or a fruit that you have to declare at the airport or face the wrath of US Agriculture agents. I just wanted to be "normal." As you can see, that part didn't exactly work out, but whatever.

So anyway, I guess my point is that I'm not exactly comfortable with being categorized as Asian because I feel like I'm not one. Like it's some sort of title I earned but by cheating.

I feel uncomfortable receiving what A and I call "the Asian discount" at Asian-owned business (mostly the donuts store but also at my first tailor) because I feel like if they knew I was only "passing" as Asian, they wouldn't have given it to me.

Quick aside - This post doesn't have (at least not yet) any sort of resolution or place where I'm headed, and I have no organization planned, so um, be forewarned about that.

Oh crap - when will I learn that ctrl+s in Blogger = Publish rather than Save As Draft?

Back to complaining -- So the reason I stopped going to my first tailor was because on the second or third visit she finally asked me The Question (Where am I from?). Now, normally I won't answer because it's none of your damn business. I sort of have an exception to that rule for extremely old people who don't believe in P.C. and are completely unshakeable in their line of questioning and don't take strong hints and for Asians who I don't feel are trying to be as nosy as say, other people. So I said, "I'm Korean." This offended her. She barked back, "No! I am Korean and you are NOT Korean." I smiled and said, "Well, I can't vouch for that. It's just what my mother told me," which apparently she took to imply that I was impugning my mom or maybe that I was trying to pretend to be Korean so she would like me. I ended up not going there anymore and she stopped giving me The Discount. I ended up going to some Japanese tailors that were closer to my house anyway. I never got a discount there and they also never asked about me.

I had a point, but I just got caught up in a long conversation, so um, I'm just gonna post this now and maybe at some point come back to it.

Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match

My celebrity soulmate is Frida Kahlo! Apparently she was impressed with my first date location (art museum) because she accepted.

At first I thought that was a little odd that I would end up with Frida Kahlo, given that I am a girl, never mind whatever Frida might have thought of me. Then I realized that my other choices were Eva (Evita) Peron and Mata Hari. All girls.

I thought, like some people and eHarmony, that maybe I had no match and now the test was just making stuff up. So I went back to retake it and realized that I had clicked the wrong "What Are You?" (gender-wise) button. And it turns out that my celebrity soulmate is James Baldwin. Definitely some user error going on with this test.

As seen on Class Maledictorian.

eCacophony.com

I had lunch yesterday with J, my friend who asked me to stop telling everyone that he was under medical edict to diet. The update on that is that he's gone off the diet, AMA, although he still looks great.

Anyway, back to the point of my story. So we're at lunch and he mentions something about the girl he's dating and I asked how they met. He said, "eHarmony.com" and so I proceeded to tell him about this couple that A and I know that just got married and met on eHarmony. Then I start asking him all sorts of questions about how it works, etc. He answered them but after a few, he got a sort of funny look on his face, and I said, "I don't know why I'm asking you all these questions. It's not like I'm looking for anyone." J looked relieved. "Yeah, I was thinking, hey, aren't you married? You'd need eDivorce first or something." "Yeah, eCacophony."

Mainly I was just curious because when I was single, there weren't things like eHarmony. Heck, the internet was barely starting. Email was like this: 123937090817788837103@compuserve.com. Plus, I recalled that F&D's friend did eHarmony and it found no matches for her. She was convinced that she would end up a sad old spinster. I'm not so sure that I would recommend eHarmony then, especially if it would just confirm your fears/suspicions that you're destined to be alone.

But just for fun, when I don't have anything else to do, I might take the test and see if recommends that I get psychiatric help or something. Or if it says there are 200 other people in my area who are just as crazy as me. Cuz that would be cool. Or scary.

Check, please

Wow!

In my banking class, we were talking about presentment of checks, and this guy was arguing that in the hypothetical, the bank shouldn't pay a check presented by the maid at maker’s bank. This was his justification (paraphrased, of course):

When I worked at a bank, this lady came in and claimed she was a maid. She presented a check drawn on our bank and we refused to cash it because
the Pay To The Order was made to a name similar to hers but not exactly
matching her ID. We ended up calling the maker about it. He first said that the maid had stolen his new book of checks and was writing checks all over the place. He then confessed that he knew this lady and she wasn't a maid; she was a prostitute. He intentionally misspelled her name in the hope that she wouldn't get any actual payment for her "services." And, of course, if the bank paid it, he would complain that he didn't authorize payment for that non-existent person but you're saying that if we don't pay it and it was properly presented for payment, then the penalties [under the UCC] would cost more than if we had just paid it. That just doesn't seem right to me.

In the end, the bank ended up calling the cops, I think on the maid/prostitute because she was getting pretty worked up or something. I don't know what happened to the john, though.

And I thought banking was boring.

CSI: McPanville

--Inspired by Stag's post on the bloody shoe on her porch--

One day, A came in and said, "I've got a nosebleed and it won't stop bleeding!" I look up skeptically from my Federal Courts reading and don't say anything. "I think I need to go to the emergency room!" I ponder this in my head. Pages and pages to go of abstention reading. It's already like 7:00 and the hospital is about 30 minutes away. Add in a coupla three hours of sitting in the emergency room plus the drive back... "I have class at 9. I don't think I have time to take you. Let's just see if it stops."

In the meantime, he's gone through a billion tissues and I'm trying to ignore the bloodshed.

11:00 p.m. "I think it's stopping. But there's still some more blood." "Well, wake me up if you really need to go to the hospital. But try not to bleed anymore. I have class."

Fast forward two days.

A is going to go to a nearby state park to stargaze with his new fancy telescope. I figure he will be gone several hours. About 30 minutes later, I hear the garage door open and he comes busting in holding his nose. Blood is literally dripping out between his fingers. "I really think I need to go to the emergency room!" This time I agree and plus, it's much earlier in the evening and my class isn't until 9:30 the next morning.

We hunt around for a large plastic bowl or container, as he's dripping so much blood that a kleenex or 20 won't do. Plus, he could use the bowl for disposing of his much-bloodied tissues.

We drive there and are seen pretty quickly. They do a blood test (a hematocrit? Anyway, they did something that measures how much of something is left in his blood [med school was never an option for me, as you can see]) and estimate that he'd lost something amazing like 1 1/2 units/pints/bushels/??? of blood from the earlier nosebleed(s) and this one.

On the way home, we see a cute little family of skunks frolicking on the hillside. This doesn't have anything to do with the nosebleed story but I enjoyed seeing them.

The next day was cloudy early on in the morning and overall entirely too long for me. I never got a chance to eat lunch and so I decided to knock off early and go home around 3:00. By then it was sunny and I was freaking starving. I pull into a Wendy's. I pull out and I'm sitting in the turn lane at a really long light, so I start eating the fries.

Right then I look down at the steering wheel and because of the now-sunny conditions am able to see two bloody handprints gripping it. I look left - individual bloody fingers on the door lock! Bloody fingers on the window button (heh, he always pushes the windows in my car when he means to do the doors and always does the back windows when he's trying to do the front)! I look to the right - bloody handprint on the shifter! I look down and there, between my legs, are little blood drops on the seat. I think I opened my mouth to scream but realized that there were chewed-up fries in it and so I just let out a gasp of horror.

My car looked like a freaking crime scene and here I was, two blocks from a police station, blood everywhere, and I'm still a long ways from home. And I'm (well, until I saw the bloodshed) nonchalantly munching on fries.

I got home that day and busted out antibacterial sprays and other cleaners. Ewwww. You can still see on the seat where I scrubbed so much that it's cleaner than the other upholstery.

I later told this story to my sister-in-law (the car was hers before it was mine) and she thought it was hilarious. Personally, I thought it was scary. I mean, really - if you got into your car and found bloody handprints and frantic fingersmudges on all the door/window buttons, wouldn't it freak you out? Especially when you're eating your lunch?

Ugh.

On that note, it's time for a late lunch.

Good Will Hunting

Dylan (formerly here, heh) has a post up about wills and it reminded me of my visit with my parents this weekend.

For some reason, we were talking about my parents' will. (Nothing like a nice visit with the parents and discussing their passing on. After about the third time it came up, my sister said it was morbid and she didn't want to discuss it anymore.)

Dad mentioned something about something or another being in the will.

Well, why don't you just look at it so you know exactly what it says?
We're not sure where it is.
Where did it used to be?
On top of the refrigerator at the old house. (On top of the refrigerator is where they kept everything important because it was out of the reach of most of the kids, except it was mainly things like letters that had to be signed for school and stuff. Also cookie sheets, which I guess were very important.)
Um, so you have no idea where it is now? (They've since gone through a few refrigerators and moved houses.)

The outcome: They got a new will. Which is a good thing.

Arrrrgyle

I also bought some more argyle socks this weekend. You can never have too many argyle socks. These are very "spring"y because they're like lime green and beige argyle. Maybe a picture will follow. Or is argyle on argyle too much?

Do...Ray....Egon!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello again, I'm back.

Yes, I didn't announce my absence this time. I forgot I was going out of town. No so good. Traffic was horrible. The weekend was good. My mom gave me stripey flip-flops. I bought stripey pants. Most other purchases were for running (like the other "Mission Accomplished,"[Iraq] this one [the diet] is starting to fall by the wayside). New Dri-Fit tank with built-in support, Dri-Fit cap (nothing worse than sweaty brains), Dri-Fit socks, etc. I may be fat but I won't be sweaty.

Now that the trial of the century is over, I can start playing with my new scanner. Right after I read about the last oh, 80 pages of school work that I slacked on during the trial prep.

Random complaint time: I hate having my name shortened by people who don't know me. I was at Starbucks trying to order a tall (small) iced chai with soy instead of regular milk (trust me - you want me to have soy). They asked for my name (dude, there were three people in the store and they already had drinks, including one dude from St. Crispy's [what he was doing way the heck out where I was is a mystery, except I probably should have told the girl he was schmoozing with that he was an idiot]) and I said "Elaine."*

So Starbucks barrista-bee shouts my order to the girl 6 feet away from him. She shouts back, "What's the name?" He shouts back, "Elaine. Laney. Whatever."

Whoa. Not whatever. If I introduce myself as Elaine, then I want you to call me Elaine until we have an established relationship, the kind that I can punch you in the gut and you'll know I'm simultaneously kidding and serious. If I had lept over the counter and punched barrista-bee, it would have been the serious kind. I guarantee you that no one except my close friends and family call me Laney.

I hate it when people call me by a shortened and unauthorized version of my name. Really. Don't make me punch you. I mean, don't you hate being called a yucky nickname (Chrissy, Tina, Lizzy, Eddie, etc.)? Puleeeze write in and tell me that I'm not the only one. If not, I will be sad.

And after all that silent fuming over being called Laney by the completely moronic barrista-bee, I didn't get a chai. They gave me a stupid regular coffee latte with soy. Another reason not to tip them when they're doing their job and already get paid minimum wage.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent me.

And before I get TP or someone else writing this in, yes, I'm glad my name isn't Delores or Mulva or anything like that. I mean, yeah, it [Laney, Lane, Ellie] could be worse, but that still doesn't make it right for people to take liberties with my name.

Friday Spies ©

1. Have you ever been in a car wreck?
Not really. The closest I ever came was I think I was slowing down or was stopped and this girl pulled out and hit me in the turn lane. I had some fender damage (but this car was practically made out of plastic so what did I expect) and she had a tiny dent or something. At the time I think I was 17 or maybe 18 and we didn't call the police, which was probably dumb on my part or something. We exchanged info and she did call me about a day later. She asked me to get an estimate from a repair shop and would pay it out of her pocket so as not to jack up her insurance. She was also pretty young, maybe 23 or so and I was (and still am) pretty trusting so I was like, okay. And guess what - after I sent her a xerox of the estimate, I got a check in the mail from her.

But my siblings have all had their fair share of totalling wrecks, so I figure I'm due at any time.

2. Sunrise or sunset?
All right, who just got done listening to Fiddler on the Roof? Sunset. Sunrise is just too bright. Ugh.

3. If you could change, amend, delete, or pass one law, what would it be?
What do you think I am, a lawyer? Someone with an opinion? Next question.

4. What is your favorite single article of clothing?
My snorkel mask. Just kidding. A gray shirt my parents got me for my birthday about 7 years ago. It's from Old Navy and it's a button up with long sleeves but it has a nice cut because it doesn't make me look fat or skinny. I probably wear it once (or twice) a week when it's cold enough and often at night when I need light cover. A couple of years ago the stitches on the right cuff started unraveling so ever since I've been thinking of whether I should take this to a seamstress or just not even care that I don't have a right cuff anyway. If you knew me, you'd know that I wouldn't be against wearing a shirt with only one cuff.

5. If you could/had to spend the day hanging out with another blogger (one you don't already know), who would it be and what would you do?
Oh wow. This one is hard. Maybe Stag because she claims she's practically my adopted sister. Or THL because she's my cousin. Or SMP? because he's also my cousin via THL. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I'd also like to meet Milbarge and give him a hard time in general. Just because I could. I could also claim E. Spat or Legal Quandary and then just meet the other one anyway since they're in the same TVNWM (or whatever the acronym is), but I figure that is cheating. Either way, I'd make one of them cook for me since they are all domesticated and stuff. Snickerdoodles! Soup! Yummy for my tummy!

But I guess I give my Bloggerette rose* to Soup and I'd take him to a kick-ass hockey game. As far as I can tell, I think he'd be the only one who could really appreciate the game. We'd get cool jerseys and lots of beer and Hebrew Nationals and have awesome seats on the ice and try to avoid getting beaned by pucks (oh wait - forgot about the netting). We'd be on tv and stuff. Oh, and as an alternate reason - he's a short blogger and therefore doesn't make me look quite as short. I can overlook the basset thing because of his height. You gotta cut the guy a break, you know?

*I never actually watched The Bachelor or The Bachelorette but I understand there's some sort of rose ceremony and I guess if you give the rose to that person, they stay in? Well, if that's not the case, then pretend it is.

Trial Mix

(haha - the first time I typed it, it said Trail Mix. Whichever...just no banana chips or raisins, please.)

25 Minutes To Go (Johnny Cash)
Don't Let Me Get Me (Pink)
I Walk the Line (Johnny Cash)
I Will Survive (Cake cover)
Just A Girl (No Doubt)
Love Shack (B-52s...can't really explain this one other than I like it)
Malaguena Salerosa (Chingon)
Rexall (Dave Navarro)
She's a Lady (Tom Jones)
Sweet Home Chicago (the Blues Brothers)
Take Five (Dave Brubeck)
The Chase (from Kill Bill 2)
When The World Ends (Dave Matthews Band)
Whip It (Devo)
Start The Commotion (Wise Guys)

Hey, all I can say is that it worked for me.