Tuesday, December 21, 2010

You Wonder Why I Am A Feminist Of Some Sort?

My family, God love them, is very Catholic and very Conservative/Republican. So, that's what I grew up with. Was inculcated with. What I said in grade school.

The point I was forcibly reminded of today was the family position on feminism. A. To be feminist is to be femi-nazi (I hate anything that includes the word nazi, because, really? Six million dead is what you think you are accurately comparing here?) B. It Just Doesn't Work (this is the part where my Dad says that women should not work outside the house because it isn't right and the children end up deformed and neglected and God is displeased with the woman) C. The need for feminism is all made up anyways (there is no good old boys club, women don't receives less opportunity or pay, etc. They make it all up!)

To some extent, I got to hear all this again when I went to law school--calling me a feminist with a nasty sneer, imploring me to remember my future deformed and neglected children, but at the same time, saying, "Well, at least women are equal in the legal profession."

Well, let your fears be rested, gentlemen--there is still a good old boys network.

Let's talk about Lawyer A in my office, who may or may not be me or another attorney. A is sitting in a chair, waiting for everyone to enter the courtroom, when older male lawyer (OML) comes in and says, "You should have worn a shorter skirt" (A's skirt is actually below the knees) "because this is an all day hearing and I was counting on your nice legs to get me through it." A stares in disbelief.

OML is talking to client while A moves a table in the courtroom. A hears OML say "Well, let me give this to that mean ass attorney." A refuses to respond to name calling. "Let's see if I can get the bitch to turn around to talk to me." A is somewhere between laughing and sheer amazement. "What a c*^t." (Lordy, even I won't say that, it's just gross.) OML finally comes up, addresses A by her proper name, and gives her the document.

During the hearing, there are several points where OML decides to roam the floor while presenting evidence. Because of the way the courtroom is situated, OML has to walk behind A. As he does, he reaches out and runs his fingers through A's hair. A stares at him in disbelief. He does it again, tugging a bit more firmly. A shakes him off, and looks at the judge, who is looking at the witness. OML does it AGAIN, this time tugging A's hair hard enough to jerk her head back. A shakes him off a little harder, then readjusts her chair so that he can't wander behind her anymore.

As they are leaving, A is treated to a request for "a much shorter skirt next time, sweetheart."

So, yes. I think this is wildly inappropriate. I think there is a old boys club that thinks this is okay, and I work with them everyday. I don't think I should have to stay at home or endure being treated like this.

And I don't think I am crazy or militant for saying it.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Dear PTB at SyFy

Dear Powers That Be,

I am reasonably sure that we have had the conversation where I admit I am a nerd, a sci-fi nerd, who has cable only for the SyFy channel?

Yes, I know we did.

You canceled the only show that I regularly show up to watch. Time to cancel my cable. Which, of course, also means canceling you.

Jerks.

Heart,

Grace

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Welcome to the [Crazy] League, Kid

For a while now, it's been official: I have been a lawyer employed full time for [more than] a year now. The middle of October saw me into my first full year. So, in true slacker fashion, I give you my one+ year thoughts:

Things I learned in my first year of practice (grouped by related topics).

Oh, family law.
Mondays in family law = chaos.
Holidays in family law = chaos + emergencies + drama.
Chaos is always > my ability to comprehend.
Therefore, I cannot comprehend holidays or Mondays anymore.

Have you seen my desk?
The number of days spent outside the office in court is directly proportional to how the stacks of papers will be on my desk when I finally return.
If I walk into court feeling like a have a handle on things, I will be pulled aside in the court hallways at least three to six times and get handed new cases.
The greater the need to talk to the person/child/police officer/case worker, the more likely it is my office phone will mysteriously hang up.

Good Ol' Boys Club
I look like a little kid, so make up, especially when tangling with old white male attorneys, is essential. Also essential are my high heeled lethal looking boots.
Playing nice, dumb, serene, and generally like a newbie works great for when I later want to skin someone alive.
The best way to handle the suggestive "sweetheart" accompanied by an even more suggestive leer and invasion of personal space in the elevator is to step forward aggressively and inform the offender that no one calls you sweetheart. [would you believe me that I've had to use this more than once?]
Never ask an attorney who is over the age the 75 how they are doing today. You will get their digestive history [so not joking].

Those Metal Detectors Work, Right?
The City County Court Building is a zoo, and my attorney badge is my zoo pass.
Do not go into a hallway alone with a person with penchant for battery/person suspected of homicide/convicted rapist. [pats self on back for figuring that one out beforehand]
I will see at least one of the following: underwear, an unfortunate lack of underwear, see through shirts with black bras, lime green stretch jeans, flip flops and a tank top in the snow, someone who is clearly drunk.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Ready Set Go

Wow! I keep letting this thing slide. In my defense, I had my parents here for Thanksgiving.

It's official. Our plane tickets to Ireland are booked. Stone fences and pubs, here we come...in about four months.

Speak of four months, that means I have that much time before we go to recommitt myself to the folloowing: the way I eat; my physical therapy routine; my writing.

The way I eat is always a problem over the holidays... heck, it's a problem every waking moment of life, and sometimes even when I'm alseep. Since I started doing this whole eating right thing, I have mostly stayed on the wagon. I have fallen off a few times, and it is always spectacular.

I've now been watching the pattern long enough that I can recognize something that is really painful about myself. I have a food addicition. Is that possible? More specifically, I have a sugar addicition. I crave it constantly, I can smell it a mile away, I have to change my life habits to avoid it, because if I visit those old haunts again, I will eat it. It never stops at one cookie or one piece of bread. And then I wake up with a sugar hangover, wondering why I did that to myself, but I go do it again anyways.

Seriously? I am recommitting myself. If that means I have to throw out everything in the house, hide all money from myself so I can't buy lunch, and have a constant buddy with me every waking moment so I don't slip, so be it. Sugar kills, people. It's bad for you.

The physical therapy. A looooong time ago, in a galaxy far far away... sort of. It seems like it. Anyways, I was a synchronized swimmer (go check somewhere else on this blog to see how competitive I was) and I did some impressive damages to my shoulders. I've been able to get by for many years with mimimal physical therapy, but no more. Both my shoulders have started giving me huge problems, so I bought a new set of weights, broke out my old medicine balls and rubber bands, and here we go.

If I don't do this, I will be screaming in agony at the end of all that travel time to Ireland.

The writing. Remember this? I am an English major who loves to write? (ironic, then, that I just noticied that my spell check is off and I have no desire to go back and fix all the inevitable typos in this). I have classic books galore? I have several half started and half finished short stories and novels that just need more time and love? I own every conceiveable form of BBC movie/TV miniseries? (fellow junkies, did you see that Jane Eyre is going to be a movie?) Yes, that's me.

That, there, is truly what I love. I love my job, and I think I am getting better at it. It does not fulfill me the way that writing does. In my ultimate perfect world, I could devote myself to that as a fulltime job. In a more realistic perfect world, I could work a real job part time and do that part time.

In the real world, I just need move my ass and do it in overtime.

So, four months. Here we go!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Three Things

First, I would like to book this plane ticket to Ireland. Now. I am tired of the back forth (I know it is necessary!) of planning.

Second, I am turning on the Christmas music and having Mama Vor come over and help decorate.

Third, this job is a life sucker. I had another death on my case load. I feel numb, tired, and weepy. I know it is not my fault, but it is eating me alive.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Seeking Like Minds

My best friend's wedding was this past weekend. She was mellow, a beautiful bride, and he is a good guy. I could not be happier for them. Also, it gave me another chance to realize how blessed I am to have Vor, because I could not have done all my maid of honor duties without him. He was the general bat man, running around for tape, picking up stray bridesmaids from the airport, hander out of bubbles, delivering goodies to rooms, etc.

We were also fortunate in that we got to meet her friends-the other bridesmaids and their spouses, plus others.

It provided for an interesting and in depth conversation on our car ride home, which consisted of trying to answer one question--why don't we have friends like that?

The answer is simple in many ways, but hard to remedy. I do have a friend like that--the bride herself. But she lives far away now, and is an armed service member. Vor has friends like that, but they still live in Buffalo.

The fact of it is, we are drawn to being friends with people who are in the military, or who are engineers. It's fairly obvious why--my family is heavily military, so it's an environment that I am comfortable in, and draws a type of person that is similar to me and my family. For Vor, the interests he has often overlap, as do the values. The same thing goes for engineers.

We don't have much of either here. There is not a truly active military base here, and Vor is not as sunk into the engineering world anymore now that he is a lawyer.

What we do have are ALOT of lawyers.

Now, don't get me wrong, we have made some good friends here, some of whom happen to be lawyers. We are working on building those relationships too, so that they exist outside the realm in which we met.

But it was certainly frustrating for us to meet these awesome people, and then leave after the wedding. Vor commented that we could easily pick up, move to where these people are, and fit right in (if it weren't for the whole job thing, you know). We've made plans to stay in contact, and have exchanged all relevant information. I hope we can do it. We certainly have the determination to do so--its hard to find people you click with, so it is very motovating to keep them when you find them.

Sort of Vor returning to the engineering world or me joining JAG, I guess it will have to do.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

I am back from the wedding and my maid of honor duties, and I am TIRED.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Rolling Fields of Green and Fences Made of Stone**

Here's the plan: Ireland, March/April 2011.

Fly into either Dublin or Shannon (most likely Shannon), and go to Galway. Spend a few nights in Galway (Doolin, Cliffs, Aran Islands, etc.) and then breeze through Limerick so I can say hello to my family. Probably spend a good part of the day in Limerick saying hello and seeing my old stomping grounds (I wonder if that amazing Chinese restaurant is still there...).

From Limerick, onto Kenmare, a small town just outside Killarney that is a lot like Killarney, but less touristy. And it's on the Kenmare bay. So, check out Kenmare, Killarney, Ring of Kerry, Cork, and maybe some other places if we are feeling ambitious.

Then, fly home.

Vor wants to tack on a day and a night in London, so we are trying to work that in as well. I would love to take him to Wagamama's in Covenant Garden, and this little hole of a tea shop.

**Garth Brooks, Ireland

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Eenie Meenie Miny Moe

Catch a country by the toe.

We are still for sure doing our spring time vacation in another coutnry, far far away from here. The questions remains--where?

We originally planned on Paris, but now we have two unexpected contestants closing in fast: London, and a rail trip all over Ireland.

Remember how I love lists? Here we go!!!

Paris Pro: I have dreamed of going back just to hang out in the city. I can use some of my dusty French. Versailles. Musee(s) galore. Wine and amazing food. Time in the City of Love and Light with Vor--how romantic! Vor could finally see this place that I love. Taking Vor to Normany. Staying in a little appartment, down the street from the Eiffel Tower or onMontmantre. Crepes.

Paris Con: Riots. Travel/terrorist warnings. Probably the most expensive option.

London: If you're tired of London, you're tired of life. High tea. Vor experiencing high tea. Real Earl Grey (can you tell we are tea snobs?). The very cool sights to see (clock, bridge, palace, double decker red buses and red phone booths). Stratford. The English language. Conning Vor into going out to Virginia Woolf country. Pretty romantic. WAGAMAMAS. Covenant Garden.

London Cons: I don't buy the "tired of London" slogan. Day trips are not really easy to do, so we would end up pretty much staying in London. Not as "exotic." English food? Not so much. Generally, not as thrilled with the place (don't get me wrong, still very exciting).

Ireland Pros: GREEN. Pretty. Romantic. Stone fences. Cute accents. Pubs. Guinness. Bulmers. Cliffs. Galway. Limerick. Family! Killarney (sing that Bing Crosby song, people!). Time on the trail--which Vor would adore. Castles. Maybe a cute B&B here and there. Decent food. I would love a return trip (I spent a summer there, so I know it fairly well). Least expensive, probably. Good tea. Seeing Vor pucker up to the Blarney Stone. Dublin. Ring of Kerry.

Ireland Cons: We would not be staying in one city, given that we would want to see the place. So, there would be more traveling than a city stay, which could potentially be less relaxing. Probably have to be less spontaneous and make more arrangements for places to stay/rail tickets.

All in all, the pros lead me to this: 1. Paris; 2. Ireland; 3. London. The problem is that riots and travel warnings are pretty serious, so the cons might bump Paris down for me. Ireland and Paris are neck and neck for me. London is not far behind, and closing fast.

Input, please. Now would be the time to stop lurking and actually leave a comment. :)

Monday, October 18, 2010

Extra Points for Style

Well, hello, October. Nice to see you. What do you mean, you are halfway out the door? Where have I been? Well... umm... you see...

First: I traveled to Las Vegas (VIVA LAS VEGAS) for the bachelorette part of doom. It was a good time. Vegas was fun. I can't imagine staying there longer than a weekend, but a good time was had by all.

Second: I traveled to Virginia to see my brother sworn in as a colonel in the Air Force. I played with nieces and nephews a like, hugged my brother, and had a good time. I am so very proud of him. I also got a nasty cold from someone that I am still recovering from.

Third: both of these little trips have taken me away from Vor and the dog, neither of whom have been pleased with my long weekend absences.

Fourth: I have an on going battle with my maid of honor dress. First, the bride told us which dresses to get, but hurry, becasue they were on sale now. I go out the next day online, and they are already out of my size. Heck, they were out of every size larger than mine. My only choice is to get the next size down. So I do, figuring that I've lost so much weight, I will at least be close, and I can alter up.

Yeah. Then I hit a snag in my progress, and I've been gaining weight like crazy. It happens when I am stressed (wondering why? here and here and here, for a flavor) and when I can't sleep. Check and check. In the grand scheme of things, I would not worry about it, and it will even out when I get my stress levels and sleep under control. BUT I HAVE A WEDDING IN THREE WEEKS.

I had her alter up, but even in the time from when I gave her the dress to when I was fitted again, I must have gained more weight. That and the alterations lady made an admitted mistake when she measured me. The dress does not fit. The dress will not fit. The dress cannot fit.

I called the company, and now I am on the waitlist for an dress in that color, damaged or not, my size or higher. They are sending me a dress that is a petite in the next size up (which probably means that it will function like the next size down from the size I need) that I can either squeeze into or maybe use for scrap material. THREE WEEKS.

I don't do crash diets. I think they are unhealthy and terrible examples. But, people? I think I may be out of options. That or some emergency liposuction. Or maybe a miracle, where someone returns a black plum dress from J Crew.

If you are reading this and are the owner of a black plum dress from J Crew, I need that puppy. Right now. Send it to me.

I'm not kidding.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Like A Gust of Wind

I'm about two weeks shy of having been at this job for a year now.

There are moments where I think--just for a moment--that I have seen enough to have a pattern to base decisions on, sort of like a template to work from, and make changes to fit the situation. In law school, we called it applying law to the facts at hand.

Then the moment passes, the sun goes out, and the storm clouds roll in, and I have a lying cheating double dealing money laundering attempted murdering child molesting belt buckle whooping individual who I'm sure is otherwise a lovely person sitting in documents before me, and I run for the sanctuary of my boss's office, where I tell her my woes and seek direction.

As bad as it is, it is easier than the recent situations I've had. I have a job that is supposed to be about protecting children. But what do I do when they are the problem? When they are the YOUNG lying cheating double dealing attempted child molesting sexual acting out sneaking out of windows heroin using poor kids diagnosed with ODD, ADHD, ADD, MPD, BPD, ARD who can't stop themselves?

Sigh.

In other news, my maid of honor (matron of honor?) behind is being hauled out to Vegas for the bachelorette party. It's really hard for me to leave Vor. I've tried to explaining this to him, but I just get all teary. I think some part of my brain is still convinced that we are STILL in long distance mode, where I have to jealously guard each second, because I may not get any more seconds for another month. Or maybe I am just a homebody who does not like to party.

Sigh.

In other other news, it is 8 pm and my husband is just coming home. Tomorrow it will be 8:30 before I even dream of coming home.

SIGH.

Friday, September 24, 2010

It's Friday...

...and I have one word for you:

SUSHI.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Forgiveness and Forgiving This

I can't remember a time when KK and her son didn't live across the street from my parents. She was a single mom, and I babysat S. I remember when they got their dog, and then I was their dog sitter, too. KK liked to have me around, she said, to boost the estrogen in the house.

Then, one day when I was a senior in high school, she was killed.

It was stupid, stupid, stupid. She was running a marathon with her best friend. A drunk, on duty police officer in his police car drove down the street that the marathoners were runing, and swerved right towards them. KK saw him coming and pushed her friend out of the way. He struck KK and killed her, and then swerved off. They found still wandering around in his car, plastered, in the next town over.

Her parents forgave the police officer almost immedately, and I was furious. It took me many years before I felt any kind of peace about it. Now, all I feel is sadness for her and S, and pity for the man who killed her.

I didn't understand, until all this happened, why I was so angry with her parents for immediately forgiving him. For me, forgiving is something that is part of greiving. To forgive someone immediately for something horrible is to ignore the fact that I am human, and I need to greive this. How can I possible move to forgiveness when I am still processing what happened? I can't help but think now, given everything I know about KK and her parents and all the aftermath, that their forgiveness was just "forgiveness." They felt they had to, but it was what their faith taught. I don't believe that they truly forgave him until much later. I don't know that S has yet.

For as bad as that was, what happened here was worse. It's been a few weeks now, so now it feels like the elephant that the people that knew M best step around. There are still bits of information coming out like a slow drip faucet. I've become silently obssessive about security.

So, the greiving process is still on going. If I am still affected it by, I can only imagine how much worse it is for Vor. To deny this process would be to deny M, and that's impossible,

Forgiveness? Not yet. Ask us later.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Scars

Yesterday: food poisoning.

Today: a little heart-sick, remembering.

It will always be hard to remember the panicked feeling, not knowing where my brother was. It will always be hard to remember, knowing people I knew at the Pentagon were likely dead. I will never forget literally holding up a classmate as she watched the second tower collapse, with her dad inside.

Unfortunately, it will always be all too easy to remember.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Sunda Blog Salad VII

Salad--what's probably for dinner.

Lettuce. The meat of the salad. I do believe my lettuce is wilted, folks. It's been stunned grief that's been taking up lives, between deaths at my work, and tragedy elsewhere in our lives. It's exhausting, and consuming. Although its been consuming, the less said on it, the better. At least for now.

Vegetables. At this point, vegetables--the things that are necessary but I wish weren't--are literally vegetables. I've been on a roll with my food, and doing really well, but suddenly I have hit a sugar valley again. I gave myself a few treats, and all the cravings are back, with the headaches, and the holy mother of pearl cramps and double vision showing up like clockwork once a month. Yes, if I was not sure before, I am now--sugar makes my life much much worse.
SO, as of this moment, no more treats, unless it is the type of treat that falls under "massage." And exercise. Yes, dear pilates, P90X, yoga--I'm looking at you. You vegetables you.

Croutons/Cranberries/Almonds. The sweet things in life--no! resist! Just kidding. Having Jedi, Mom, and Dad in town was good stuff.

Salad dressing. My salad is soaked in vinegar. I can smell it across the room.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Distraction

To say the least, its been a nice distraction to have my parents and Jedi (10 y/o) nephew here. When Jedi saw out collection of Star Trek/Star Wars/other sci-fi movies, he practically ran up the front of me, to give me a hug, saying: thank you! I am so happy! I am so excited!

I guess Vor and I just get him.

We've gone to the Indy Zoo (very cool, loved the aquarium), the Children's Museum (amazing! Jedi went crazy in there!), and today is the Carmel Water Park. It's been really great.

On the other hand, it would have been helpful this weekend to be able to retreat, to hide in the house, to cry and rage it out, and talk about what happened. Sleep would also have been helpful. I finally got a full night's sleep, but I know Vor hasn't.

We're both having nightmares. I can only tell you how vivid and terrifying mine are; I can't speak for him. I imagine--I know-- they are worse than mine.

Friday, August 27, 2010

No Words Can Say

We've had a horrible incident here that's kept us up all night, with lots of tears and grief.

Thoughts and prayers, please, and for a day of relative safety.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Like Nails

It's been awhile now, and I've been able to process what happened. It doesn't make me any less sad, but I think I've processed it. I finally was able to sleep last night without crazy dreams involving this case.

Of course, there was the requisite meltdown over the weekend, when even more bad things happened in this case, but that's another story.

I found myself very annoyed yesterday when listening to parents bickering in court over basketball and child support. Seriously? This is your emergency?

My mom frets that this job will make me hard. Maybe it has made me less trusting, but I don't know about hard. I don't think that comparing different emergencies against each other, and deciding that one most certainly trumps the other makes me hard or uncaring. It just means I've got a whole new perspective. One I never wanted, but I have now.

The case file is sitting open on my desk in my office. I can't quite bring myself to close it and put it away in the file cabinet. It's like admitting defeat. I also have all the new paperwork from this disaster sitting in there, loose. Every time I pull out the hole punch, I hesitate.

What's even more depressing than the death itself is the aftermath. The fighting, the police calling, the jurisdictional quagmire between limbo, and two counties, and a surprisingly undefined state of law.

Each new thing that seems to happen every day with this case is like a pinprick, but not from any small sewing needle. More like a nail that was in a 2X4.

So, perspective. It's handy. But I think that being just a little bit harder than I am would be helpful too. I can't not sleep at night. I need to put it away, close it in the file cabinet, and turn off the light.

Monday, August 16, 2010

LYATWUTGAB

To explain the inscrutable title--not that you will ever figure it out--

Amid the window cleaning, the wall scrubbing, the painting, the dog chasing, the food making, the food baking, the crazy case making;

amid the hospital trips, the hard diagnosis, the what-if's and will we ever's, the year of full working, the year of full time actually living together, the summer days and winter nights that stretched on forever;

amid the bar exam one, and bar exam two, the house bought, the do it yourself move;

amid the tears, the crying, the laughter, the growing, the knowing that when I come home, you'll be there soon;

amid all the craziness that has been going on around us, two years have passed.

Happy Anniversary, Love.


Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Waste

There's a first time for everything.

I imagine saying that to my kid(s) about losing a tooth, riding a bike, going through a breakup, etc. I imagine saying it lovingly, comfortingly, and sarcastically.

I don't imagine repeating it to myself, over and over, like I've done all day today.

This is the first time someone on one of my cases has died.

I've been stunned all day. I found out last night. I don't think I slept at all, except for that brief time where I dreamt that everyone involved with this case (the children, the parents, the grandparents, the aunts and uncles) went out to dinner with me and had sushi. Riddle me that.

Please, please, please. If you think someone is depressed and in need of help, reach out. If you think a child is not in a good place, call your dept. of child services. If you think an adult is in danger, encourage them to seek the help they need. If you don't know what to do, call a crisis hotline. They know what to do.

What a waste of potential and life. It's been breaking my heart all day.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Game Changer

It was so cool this weekend, then suddenly, it was hot and muggy. Vor is listless, the dog is listless, I'm listless... and restless.

I can't focus on work. I'm attributing this to the fact that its pretty much been a year now since I've had time off in the school sense. Remember those heady days of taking a week--two weeks--a month--off at a time? Yeah, I still do. I want to get me some of that again.

The restless part, the part about not sleep and weird dreams, comes from worry. It's always bad when I'm making casseroles, and here I go again, making another casserole.

What do you say in the face of a scary diagnosis? One that people don't understand? One that reveals a time bomb, silently ticking, creating more explosives from your own body to eventually blow you up with? I don't say anything. I make food.

Our friend is out of the hospital. The sudden illness, the strange symptoms all have a name and a face. There's goal, and a plan. But there is also an endgame, and it's not one anyone has any input into.

I wish we had pushed harder when he withdrew these past couple months. Vor and I kept saying, where is he? why won't he call? why won't he get breakfast with us anymore? yet we didn't push the issue. How do you, really? Especially when he has close family in town--if there was anything wrong, they would push the issue, right? We all stood around, waiting for someone to push the issue. Not that quicker action would have changed things, much. This diagnosis would still be there. But maybe other damage would not have been done.

Anyways. Instead of some forethought, or some prior action, there is now after-action, a casserole baking in my oven. I need to tend to that.

Just so you know where I've been. And just so you know where I'm going.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Quick and Dirty

1. We have a friend in the hospital, and it's one of those House moments--everyone thinks they know, and then they don't, and then he gets worse, and then they think they know, and things keep worse, and we realize no one knows. I am still waiting for Hugh Laurie to show up with his amazing accent, doing a better American accent than most Americans, and tell us what's wrong. I hope he insults me personally, while he's at it. In the meantime, prayers/thoughts/good vibrations are appreciated.

2. My parents are coming in August and bringing my nephew, Jedi. Who lives in Indy with kids? Tell me good things to do. He's ten.

3. I want bacon, wine, bacon, bread, bacon, chocolate, bacon and bacon, in that order. This bacon craving has got to stop. We don't even have any in the house right now, but I'm thinking about the grocery store. No, I am not having pregnancy cravings. I checked.

4. August looks like it's going to be the month from hell for work. I should just sleep in the courthouse. It would save me some sleep.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Wavering

It's so hot outside right now that everything seems to moving in waves. My neighbor's house looks like a mirage, and I can't step on the drive way with barefeet.

I really don't think you need to hear this next part, so I encourage you to stop.

I think the heat makes me lazy and indecisive. It also makes me want ice cream, and pie, and sugar, etc., etc., etc. This is problematic. I really have no tolerance for the stuff anymore. I ate a piece eof chocolate yesterday (hangs head in guilt. it was just sitting there on my desk! evil co-workers!) and then I threw up this morning. Delightful. I've spent the whole day feeling ill, and at the same time, wanting more chocolate. Oh, to be hated by things we love.

Despite the worshiping of the poreclain goddess (ahem), I've felt remarkably chipper and okay today. I met Vor for lunch, at which point, nothing could have possibly sounded better than broccoli cheddar soup.

That remains the only thing I've managed to keep down. I opened up the spice drawer to cook diiner and almost lost again. The smells were too much for me. So, something fast and easy for dinner for Vor it is. Now that I took the time to type this, it occurrs to me that the sensitivity to strong smells and food in general has actually been going on for about three days, not just today.

I swear, it's the heat. The summers here make me crazy. It never got this hot in Buffalo. I have never once seen the thermometer attached to my parents' house ever get above 92. It rarely gets above 80. Now, it's humid, but not this oppressive heat that makes my dog run outside, pee, then run back to the dog and beg to be let back into the AC.

Okay, it should be safe to read again.

I know I started this thing to get myself into the habbit of writing again. I didn't do it for an audience. But it feels kind of lonely, putting words and thoughts out there all the time that just drift. Sometimes I talk to Vor about what I wrote, sometimes I forget. I don't think he reads this anymore.

Plus, work has been so busy, and it's about to get worse. The first 3 weeks of August consist of at least 2 full days hearings every week. Usually, there's 3. That is a major time sink, and I am tired when I get out of that. But instead, I have to come home, and keep on with my French lessons (I'm surprised at how much I remember). This thing has been low on my list.

I don't know. I'm wavering.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

And Then I Got My Geek On

We went to ISO's Symphony on the Prairie last night, and the theme was classical science fiction music.

I took tons of pictures of storm troopers, Darth Vader, the droids (they moved! on their own! they rolled all over the place!), etc., etc., etc. George Takei was there, and spoke for a new minutes, and narrated one of the songs from Star Trek.

Overall, a wonderful night to camp out on the prairie with Vor, and with a bottle of wine and some cheese, and listen to the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. (They even played the Stargate theme!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Incoming!

One friend from Vor's college days.

Need to do: get something defrosted for dinner, clean guest bedroom, make bed, vacuum dog (sigh, I wish this one would me do that... definitely a a part of the previous model of canine that I appreciated), put away dishes, jump in shower (dirty form spending most of day downtown at court house...shudder), glass of wine, start cooking.

I'm sure there is something I am missing... such as relaxing, napping, reading through yet another Paris guidebook?

Embrace the weekend! It's sunny and beautiful in Indy :)

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A Bottle of Bread and Two Loaves of Wine

Paris, je t'aime.

The first time I went to Paris, my brother took me out to dinner--he was stationed in Germany and had traveled to Paris with myself and my parents for a weekend get away. Mom and Dad stayed back at the hotel room, eating food from one of the fresh markets on the street.

When we got back, my Mom was very giggly and my Dad was red faced. Mom informed us that no siree, she was not jealous of the super nice dinner we just ate, because she and Dad just had two bottles bread and a loaf of wine.

Drunk as a skunk, I tell you. A great memory. A memory we like to break out every now and then.

So, Vor and I would like to make a few of those memories of our own--in Paris, that is. We're going. Next year, spring time. Be there. Or rather, please don't be there, because (1) I won't recognize you and (2) I would like some quality time with Vor, if you catch my drift.

Of course, this is appx. 7 to 8 months away, but that has not stopped me from checking out every guide book the library owns on the Paris and Normandy areas, and making tentative selections of where I want to go, what I want to see, etc. Since this is ONLY 7 to 8 months out, I've also checked out a French textbook and some CDs, so that I can brush up on my French. I've been tentatively testing it out--I can understand most written things, a fair bit of spoken things, and but just about nil comes out of my mouth properly. Le sigh.

Vor's never been, so the usual suspects are in play: Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Louvre, etc. I'd like to put some twists on those, and add a few of my own. Versailles is high on the list. Didn't get to go either time I was in Paris. I've been tot he D-Day beaches, but I want to go with Vor. Things like that gain more meaning as you gain more perspective.

I've been to Mont-St-Michel, but man, do I want to go back. What do you mean you've never heard of it? Go here, and here, and here, and now tell me how much you want to see this. It's amazing. The Abbey opens up to the sea and the sky, so you feel like you could leap into the clouds. The city itself feels like you imagine Minas Tirith would feel (Lord of Rings, yes I am showing my geek side, love it and embrace it). The road winds upwards, and it is a narrow road, full of shops.

So. What would you do? Wine tour? Something else?

Friday, July 9, 2010

I Must Have Part of My Brain Missing

The plan is to wait a little bit longer.

The beginning of next year. It will make a Europe trip even more romantic. We'll know our financial situation better then, I'll have worked longer, we'll be more flexible.

I hate to say this, but I will never be crazy about the idea of being a mom. But there's been a shift. I'm not actively seeking it, but I am at peace with the idea. I'm okay with it. I've been okay with it for a few months now, so I don't think I'm changing my mind.

But maybe we should hurry up, just in case I change my mind tomorrow. I do that.

'Fess Up

I figure if I tell you, I will be accountable.

I've been so good since starting this diet in January. Then I went to Buffalo, and I ate pizza and chicken wings, because I had been planning on doing that, because it is a crime to eat pizza and chicken wings anywhere outside of Buffalo. (No Hooters does not have good wings. You are fooling yourself. BW3 are even worse.)

Then I ate a rice krispie treat, and a brownie. I told myself Buffalo was a free for all ticket. Then I came home and ate a piece of chocolate, and I ate some corn chips.

This needs to stop. Now. Diabetes is no good.

There, now I told you. I will tell you tomorrow how good I was.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Never Go Home Again

It's true. At least for me, it's true--once you're out, you can never go home again.

I loved seeing my family. I especially loved hanging out with my nieces and nephews. They might be some of the coolest, cutest people on the face of this earth.

But I found myself pretty much unable to just roll with the things I would have rolled with before.

The fact I have not seen my brother in forever, and he decided that his time was better spent going camping for the limited amount of time I was? Not cool. I told him so too, and I told my family at large so, which created shock and awe, and not in a good way.

The fact that once my parents learned my brother would be gone while I was here, so they tried to get me to come up a week earlier? Never mind that I have a really job that I worked for, and work at. He was getting inducted into the high school hall fame!!! That's a big deal, Grace, why can't you be here? Um.

Then there was my sister. She was snotty while shopping for a bathing suit with me, and a raging--I hate to say it, but it is true--a raging bitch to my mother. My mother ran out of the pool and into the house crying. I wanted to dunk my sister in the deep end. I don't know when she became such a snotty bitch, but it happened. (Sorry, sorry for profanity, but... not buts. It's true)

I can't even type the story without getting mad, so I'm not going to go there right now. Later, when I figure out how to try and deal with this, I will, and I will turn to you, O Wise Internet, Whose Feelings Are Not Currently Hurt Like Mine Are. I realize this is a long title for you, but you have to take what you can get.

I get so tired of defending my family. I love them fiercely, but they can do some very strange and mean things. They--we--are hotheaded, competitive, and have a propensity for arguing. But we're also loyal and protective, which is why this little vacation of mine was so painful in some ways. I don't like having to protect my parents against my siblings, especially ones that are so much older than me. I don't like having to defend my parent's boneheaded moves to my siblings and my husband.

Can't they all see how easy it is to understand what the other person meant? My Dad is sarcastic. Take it as a joke, because that is undoubtedly the way he meant it. My Mom does not have a mean or unsympathetic bone in her body, so either a) she had no idea she was offending you or b) she was so embarrassed about what she did she could not even apologize. My brother, while abrasive, means well and wants everyone to be happy and health. My sister... I'll reflect on that.

When did Prada, my oldest niece, get to be almost 18 and becoming a senior in high school? When did Scout, my oldest nephew, get that really deep voice? Jeter, the next nephew, has suddenly become more mature--a teenager, and not one of the little kids anymore. Jedi, the next nephew, grew so much. Then there was Blossom--I swear she grew a foot too, and she was much quieter. Brick, the last nephew--his stuttering is gone, and his attitude is great. Petunia hit the terrible threes with angelic grace, and is much taller than before. I don't understand.

I used to be able to go home and slide back into the routine of things--the peacemaker, the one who got other people to understand or at least talk.

I can't slide back in anymore.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Bells Tolling

Vor and I had dinner with my friend Vintage, from law school, on Saturday.

We also had dinner with her fiancee. Mmmmm. I'm a bit torn about this. I want her to be happy. He is certainly making her be just that. But, she dated him before, and it ended badly. They've been back together for six months, and they're engaged.

If there was ever anyone that was "just right" for her, it's him. I just worry. It's so short a time, with a not good history behind them.

Sigh.

My best friend, E, is getting married in November. I'm her maid of honor. I love her dearly and have known her forever, but I swear, I am the worst choice ever for a maid of honor. I don't like party planning. (bach party, showers, etc). I don't like crazy parties (see bach party, oh, wait in VEGAS. crap.) and I am terrible at planning things when I don't live in the same city as the event (I am here, she is in Nevada, wedding in Buffalo, bridesmaids scattered across the country).

This has disaster etched on it.

This is also going to be one of the weddings where everyone you knew from high school appears again. That should feel... interesting. With a few exceptions, I do my best to avoid people from high school.

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I haven't managed to kick this cold/flu/bug/virus/evil life sapping disease clearly genetically created and altered to attack only me. I've never felt so tired as I do right now. I never felt this wiped out even when I was in law school. And the sore throat has got to stop. I alternate between sounding like me, sounding like a man, and sounding like I sucked on a helium tap.

Maybe I am have something more than just the cold/flu/bug/virus/evil genetically altered creature clinging to me. Maybe after years of thinking I had mono in high school, I've now finally gone and gotten mono. That would be just. fabulous.

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It's 7:00 pm here, and I am home from work. However, I am picking up my laptop and working some more, just like I will do every night this week, until I flee this city on Thursday and head for Buffalo, where there are fish frys on Fridays, church bells ringing every day at the church around the corner from my parents, at 5:05 pm, a crystal clear pool, and lots of small fingers, connected to lots of small hands, connected to lots of small and not so small nieces and nephews, waiting to say welcome home.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Boldly Going

I was completely, utterly, and undeniably correct when I said I was getting sick.

I got up Tuesday morning and was positive I was going to pass out... perhaps because I had a fever of 100.4. Now that might not seem high to you, but I run normally at 97.1. I drove to work to conquer those three hearings, stumbled to my desk, and realized I could not stand long enough to handle three hearings. I dropped the file off on another co-worker, while my boss(es) made the signs to ward off evil and sickness, and I drove home.

At some point in the day, I hid in the basement, because it was cooler down there, and even with air conditioning, I felt like I was standing under a rocket launch. The thermometer read 102.

Shortly after taking in that number, I became convinced that the dog's eyes were glowing red, that the dog was a zombie, and that the dog was going to eat me. The rational part of my brain was convinced that I was delirious.

All in all, it has faded now, though I am left with an intermittent voice and constant exhaustion, with strange bouts of coughing. Telly's eyes are not glowing anymore, much to my zombie-hating relief.

It's been a long week. I go to Buffalo next weekend to see the family collective (kind of like the borg collective, you know? --"you will be assimilated." It's their standard line.)

I think I need a nap before I see Vintage and her newly minted fiancée tonight. I'm exhausted just typing this. Resistance is futile.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Step Back, Hop Forward

I really should know myself better by now.

When I feel super stressed, and like I haven't had a break and some downtime in a while, that is a surefire sign that I am going to get sick. Remember November/December 2009? Hmmm? Right.

So here I am, in 90 degree weather, with a fever, which makes the weather feel like a 110 degrees, coughing, generally under the weather. Awesome.

True to form, that also means that I have a full day of hearings tomorrow--one really early in the morning, one in late morning through lunch, and one after lunch to the end of the day.
_____________________________

Vor and I had a nice conversation about family and starting one and babies and timing and school loans and mortgages. Yes, those are all VERY interrelated with two law school loans to be paid off.

In the first five minutes of the conversation, my heart rate went through the roof, my palms were clammy, and my breathing was shallow. It was actually pretty hilarious that talking about family plans could produce such a ridiculous response. After the twenty minute panic attack, it was a nice conversation.

I'm not so sure that the panic is related to my ambivalence about being "Mom" anymore. At this point, I think it's about the money and the job and the loans, the fear of not having my parents close to me, the fear of them being so much older than they were for their other grandchildren, the fear that this becoming okay with being a mom might be for naught, and I might not be able to get pregnant, the generalized fear I have about being pregnant and my particular health problems, and the specific concern I have about how to handle morning sickness in a court room.

I can't be the only (future) pregnant woman who has been a litigator (but then again, see above about possibility of having sub-fertility issues; then see literature on adoption). There must be some graceful way to handle this. And before you start saying, there might not be any morning sickness--my female family are morning, afternoon, and night morning sickness champions. We revel in it.

But, it's progress. I think a big step in not being afraid of being a mother was actually really helped by Vor. I see so many people who at some earlier point in their lives would have never dreamed of doing the things they did do to their children. Other people would have never thought these people could fall so far and cause so much hurt and damage. I have been, maybe still am, worried I could be that person--become the thing you hate--, but Vor, gently and often, reminds me that I have a gift--I know my limits. I know when I am ready to lose it, and I can walk away. He's right. I know what really pushes my buttons, so it is not a surprise when it happens, and I am already prepared. And I know the consequences, which these people never did before. Plus, I have a husband who i think will be a great father, who is the only person in the world that I want a family with. (eww, gooey) Bonus, I don't have a criminal history that involves animal cruelty, so its not likely that I am some crazed psychotic. I'm only partially joking.

So, progress.

Now, I need to go lay down and feed myself chicken sans noodle soup.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Maybe Next Week

Memorial Day weekend involved two different day long parties and preparation. Then D and M came to town from Buffalo to visit Vor and I, and brought their tenacious 14 year old pug. Telly LOVED that. Then my parents were in town. Then I went to Bench/Bar this weekend and

I NEED A WEEKEND OFF.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

A Long Day

Sigh.

Just FYI

P.S. It can be a surefire way to positively infuriate me to say that there is no discrimination left against people in the workplace. Especially directed towards women. And then tell me that you've never worked, and that your husband is able to support you, and you remain at home. (btw, if that is possible, and your choice, then I am jealous, and you go girl. but pontificating?)

Come again?

Off to work. With the good old boys club. Where they once tried to shut me out of judge's chambers and told me my presence or opinion was not necessary.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Dawn

...

I know I've been quiet on here. Between a house full of guest, a birthday, and general crazyness, it's been busy. Also, those parents of mine will be arriving this weekend, so extra business will ensue.

Perhaps the biggest is an epiphany that has been storming around in my brain, dawning, then running away, and finally settling.

Later for that. Must go find strawberries now.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Sing a Song for Me

Cute blouse? Yes.

Cute skirt? Yes (though I confess, I am wearing a pair of my old volleyball spandex underneath. don't judge)

Nails? Painted red.

Perfect weather? Yes. Thunderstorms are my fav.

Lunch with Vor and Mama Vor? Yes, at my place of choice downtown. Adobo, Oceanaire, or Palamino? So hard to choose.

Must be my birthday!

Monday, May 24, 2010

And the Dolphins Sang a Chorus Together

ksjdk84844h9g38483&^&**

Oh, sorry. That was my forehead rolling around on the keyboard after a full day hearing that is going to go for two more days while my dog is running around with a pair of Vor's socks and I've decided I just don't care. So, there.

I wish I could tell you how appalling this day was and what kind of grossness I witnessed in the courtroom, but these proceedings that I'm in right now are super extra top secret under pain of death, criminal penalty, and disbarment confidential. So be advised world, there are some creepy people out there.

Here's some randomness for you:

1. I want bacon. I don't understand it, I don't know why, but all I want is bacon. Bacon Bacon Bacon. (OMG THE &*^$%#@ DOG JUST ATE SOME OF MY MAKEUP. DEAD. DOG.) (If it isn't clear to you yet, this post is being written over time, as I stop to cook, eat a piece of bacon, or beat my dog I mean gently remove my GOOD MAKEUP of which I have very little from the dog's mouth). Bacon. I want to wrap myself up in it and devour it, crispy piece by crispy piece. Is this what a craving feels like?

2. See parenthesis above. Seriously? I only wear make up to court. I call it my war paint, and without it, I look like I am 12. So, I wear a little makeup, and people take me more seriously. I and my feminist self got over it a long time ago. So, because I use it rarely, it is good makeup. Expensive. Christmas and birthday gifts from the aunt who was a model and a big time makeup person/coordinator for Liz Claiborne. AND HE COMMITTED PETTY THEFT AND ATE IT.

3. There's a general thing going around about the dress dare (here). More power to you, ladies. I actually wore a skirt to court today, and was reminded of why I hate doing that as I kept maneuvering around, trying to pick up files, constantly stand up and sit down, without giving the judge, other attorneys, and some unsavory people a great show. Not so much for me. It is my blessed pants suit tomorrow, in which I actually feel infinitely more comfortable, confident, and, well, womanly. Who knows?

4. This is worthy of a longer post, but again, people whose blogs I browse are posting on it now. Stay at home mom hood, which translates, for me, into the only argument Vor and I have gotten into lately. Kids, and the effect they have on a life/relationship/home/etc. He thinks I am a pessimist. I think I am entirely realistic, but concede I need to not be so negative. So, instead of projectile vomit sucks, so I insert, projectile vomit sucks, and I can't wait for the first time I see it! ? This is me being facetious, so Vor, please remember our conversations and not this. Like I said, worthy of a longer post regarding (life, the universe, and everything--the answer is forty two, BTW) babies and children and their care and my ambivalence and our careers and how I love my career and and and....

5. $%$# dog just came out with my make up pad. I'm not kidding. I shut that drawer after the above incident. How did he get this?

6. I have had a seriously light head and dizziness in the mornings. It seems to last for about an hour after I get up. What gives?

Dog just went into the bedroom again. Ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right? Tata, or as Douglas Adams would say--so long, and thanks for all the fish!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Nailed

I need serious advice on a life changing decision. The answer to this has to fit within my personality, my career, and Vor's likes and dislikes.

What color should I paint my nails?

...
......
.........

Right. Silence is probably a good answer to that. See, I have this horrible nervous habit of picking at my fingers, which result sin nothing good, let me say. I have Vor on the look out, and he gently (or not so gently) stops me when he finds me doing it.

I've found that having nail polish on makes me stop doing it. As much as it is a nervous habit, I am more compulsive about chips in color it seems. Evil v. Evil.

So. Buttons. A color a lawyer can wear, which means no black, navy blue, purple, florescent colors, really nothing too bright. A color I will wear, which means no soft pretty pinks and no french manicures. A color Vor will like, which means no other pastels.

What does this leave?

***************************************************

Apparently, our neighbors have a Friday get together in a really cool walk out basement bar almost every week. We went to this last week and got to meet many more of our neighbors.

One conversation involved a run down of the things you need to love/do to truly be a Hoosier... aka, from Indiana. Alright, I *heart* the Colts. Check. Enjoy seeing cornfields as far as the eye can see? Nice change from NY, so yes, check. Think windmills are cool? Check. Geographically ignorant about the location of everything else in Indiana except for the city I live in? Check!

Love/worship/always attend the Indy 500?
...
......
.........

Right. Nope. Hate the thing. My poor neighbor was appalled, and this was Proof! Proof! Proof! (he was a few into cocktails) that I am from NY and will never be from Indiana. We all laughed, but really, he hit the nail on the head. I will never love the Indy 500. I will always be annoyed and feel superior in my NY ways when I see all those houses suddenly decorated in race flags. I will NEVER go to this race. I hate cars, I hate crowds, and other than roller coasters, I hate things that go fast. Tell me why I would like this race?

************************************************

Anyways, we are partaking in a charity walk this weekend downtown. There are bets in the office on how long it will take Telly, my water crazed dog (have I mentioned that he swims? He swims now. He loves water) to pull me into the Canal.

So, if you live in Indy and you see a golden retriever and a woman in the canal, that would be me.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Dog Out of Crate Day

Having worked all last weekend, full days on Saturday and Sunday, Full days on Monday and Tuesday... that makes a week and half, appx. Angst.

So, I took today off. It's making me compulsive. I have picked up the phone several times to check my work messages, and then stopped. As soon as I access that voicemail, it will be all over.

I think I need to leave the house. now.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

A Funny Thing Happened On the Way...

It seems to be that time of the month/the year/my life/Vor's life where everyone we know is either giving birth or pregnant. Just these past three weeks, I've increased my genetic empire by two cousins (okay, fine, second cousins, but my family abnormally close and has strange generational cross overs). I held Baby H (she is still hanging in there!) for an extended period of time this weekend, and met Vor's largely pregnant co-worker.

So my relative mentioned while I was driving home that their neighbors finally got pregnant. I've known this girl since, well, forever. She babysat me. So yay!

In passing, I mentioned to my relative that two of my old classmates from grade school were pregnant. There was silence. I tried again. You know, S? This is her second baby. And M, this is her first. They're both really excited. I saw ultrasound pictures...

More frosty silence. Then my phone hangs up. Alright, I think. I'll try that one again. When I get her back on the phone, I ask if there is any reason why she hung up on me. It turns out, she doesn't approve. S wasn't married when she had the first baby, but they're married now for the second one. Apparently, that makes Baby 2 as bad as Baby 1. And don't get me started on what the reaction to Baby 1 was. M, well, M got engaged because she was pregnant. (This relative inserted "because" for me. Nevermind they had been together forever and there was no doubt they would get married.) So, not appropriate.

I know my family is Catholic. By Catholic, I mean C.A.T.H.O.L.I.C. They are Catholic to the point of harassing me about marrying Vor--heathen non Catholic Christian that he is--there was wailing and gnashing of teeth about the way we were getting married--never mind the priest suggested it. There was even more. Hurtfully, painfully, there was more. But, they are my family, and I love them, even when I think they are out of line.

Anyways. Hanging up on me because old classmates are pregnant? Bizarre. I don't even have a nice wrap up ending for you, because I'm still thinking about it.

Monday, May 10, 2010

An Ode to My Early Warning System

I am reasonably sure that I composed a post in my head at one o'clock in the morning last when I couldn't sleep. I am positive that it was witty, insightful and in short, brilliant.

I am also quite sure I can't remember it.

With that being said, I am going to provide T.(oo) M.(uch) I.(nformation)--Vor, run away. Ladies... meh. (It's just that this is too good--for me--to keep to myself.)

One day, when I was ten, I suddenly felt like someone was squeezing my stomach and stepping on my back. Lo and behold, my period. Yay. Ever since that day, it has gotten worse, and developed into a person swirling a knife around in my stomach, and an elephant standing on my back trying to crush my spine. This, naturally, resulting in lots of double vision, throwing up, and generally laying in a ball wishing I could die. I have a high pain tolerance. I am not joking about that--I was trying out for the Olympics people. Do people like us have low pain tolerances? Um, no. We live for it.

ANYWAYS, I began to refer to this as my early warning system. The good thing about it was that I knew at least 12 hours in advance that my period was coming. Let's just say I was never caught unprepared. So, blah, blah, blah, doctors, BCP, which only dulled the pain and made me feel crazy, so no thank you to that.

Then comes December 2009. That was a blast, and a wake up call. Things should not be this bad, and I knew I was not eating healthy. This made me weak, sorry, I meant a prime target for my brother's cult, oops, sorry again, I meant way of thinking about food. No grains, breads, pasta, rice, no. sugar. at. all. I get meat and veggies, and some fruit. I basically do not shop in the middle aisles of the grocery store. So I am cavewoman, hear me roar. Roar.

In March, the pain was much less than normal. Not even a single episode of double vision. In April, pain free. Again, in May, pain free. Where is the pain?

I am doing absolutely nothing different, other than the food. It has to be the food.

So, to my early warning system, I bid you adieu. You were handy, but so not worth it.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Home Owner-ness

Since I am a total slacker today, and Vor is on his way home, and the chicken is resting in its uncooked bacteria-party house state, this will be brief.

I have some general questions to ask of the neighborhood.

1. Who mows their lawn twice a week? Why? Why? WHY?

2. Who mows their lawn in the rain?

3. Who mows their lawn when I can hear the tornado warnings going off?

4. I think your kids are adorable, but I also think I have a puppy who likes to lick and kiss and your kids are afraid of dogs, so why are they driving their PowerWheels cars into my drive way where my dog can access their faces?

5. How do you manage to shoot baskets--and make them--while holding beer?

6. Where did you find the time to power wash, strip, sand, repaint, and re-seal your deck? What do you mean, you do that every year?

7. Why is the second question you ask me whether I have kids, and then you stop speaking to me after I say not yet?

8. Where is the invitation list for those amazing looking wine-cook out--impromptu cul-de-sac parties you all have, and how do I get on it?

I'm really enjoying this neighborhood. Even with the law-mowing craziness that happens. Oh! And! As I speak, someone else started their lawnmower. This would be third time this week for this house. IT HAS NOT RAINED THAT MUCH.

I have to get started on my tomatoes. The farmer's market in downtown Indianapolis had its first day today, and I saw tempting tomato plants, beautiful basil, radiant rosemary, etc., etc., etc. It reminded me that I need to jump on that. If I hadn't had the craziness of an emergency hearing, maybe I would have brought home a tomato plant today. Next Wednesday, I have promised myself. I am also coveting lettuce. I think I should just stick with the tomatoes and my already blossoming herb garden. That farmer's market was amazing. The fresh veggies, the fresh pies, the crepes, the raw honey, all of it from local farms. Drool.

Need to go get started on that chicken. Maybe I will put it on that fantabulous grill we bought.

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I know it's not April anymore, and I know that most people reading this are not from Indiana, but April in IN was Child Abuse Awareness Month. So, I have decided that April = May, and you should all go out and volunteer and be an advocate for children in your state, be a mentor, be a tutor, be a foster parent, or just go hug a kid. I have a real heart breaker on my desk right now, and I know there are so many more where s/he came from.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Meet Vor

Meet Vor:


It's taken so long to write this particular meet and greet, because, really--how do you introduce someone who makes you laugh, makes you cry, makes you calm, makes you crazy, but above all, makes you want the present and the future more than you ever thought possible?

When I first met him, I was intimidated. I had never met anyone so sharp and intelligent, that I thought I couldn't keep up. I quickly found out that he uses those smarts and wits to draw people out, not put them down.

Of course, I also thought he was the best looking person I had ever met. I'm not biased at all.

He loves tea, and we have *several* boxes of tea throughout the house. It is best if it is loose leaf tea, and he has declared we can never live in Colorado, because the water boils at a lower temperature, not hot enough for his tea. He also provides a voice for our dogs--for Telly, Vor has elected the voice of the Sweedish Chef, and provides a running commentary of what the dog thinks.

Vor watches science fiction with me, and introduces me to new kinds all the time. We get our nerd on regularly. He also snuggles.

Vor puns. He's punny. He is also corny, but has inherited several naughty jokes from his father.

I know he rationally thinks now is not the time for children, but I also know that he can't wait. He will be an amazing father. He has all kinds of plans for reading history books to our children, probably when they are still in the womb. I'm pretty sure he will come home with a history lecture series on CD, plug them into a CD play, and put earphones on my belly. He was thrilled with my plan of taking our children to a library every weekend.

He reads every night, and there is a picture of his mother and father up in our bedroom. He calls his twin all the time. Even though my family is a bit overbearing, and very overwhleming, he proposed to me on a beach while we were on vacation with my family, because he knew the first thing I would want to do was see my sibilings, nieces, and nephews.

This could go on and on, so I'll end it here. I've discovered it's impossible to describe a blessing, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

Friday, April 23, 2010

From Mind to Heart

We've seen quite a few really sad cases come through lately. If I could tell you, you would be horrified.

It's always been on my mind--adoption. Even when I was in high school, I remember thinking that was a good thing, a thing I hoped I could do someday. I was thrilled when I found out that Vor thought it was a great idea, too. Someday! We tell each other.

Whenever we talk about it, I express the same concerns I do about having biological children--the time, the changes, the things I don't want to become. It all has to do with how I was raised and how I've grown, more so than the actual presence of a child. But specifically, I always told Vor that I was worried I couldn't bond with any child, let alone one we adopted. Can I really do this? I don't know--that has always been the answer. Vor tell me otherwise.

There's been a shift since probably around December, form mind to heart. This is something I really think I need to do. I don't mean right now, but I--we--need to do this. I can't really tell you what drove it home, because it involves work, but there it is.

I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know.

Friday, April 16, 2010

I am the blank page, You are the pen

This is the umpteenth time I have opened a blank page for a new post, then forgotten what I wanted to say, or decided that what I was going to write was stupid (stoooopid).

Seriously? Someone give me a topic. Ask me something. Because all I have right now for you is a whole lot of information on third party custody, guardianships, and adoptions without consent. And a lovely little issue up on appeal now (fun! exciting! court of appeals! probably the IN supreme court!)

Maybe I can get Vor to go out to dinner? ...probably not.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Variously

I seem to be hitting a writing dry spell, at least here any way... perhaps because my writing efforts are just about consumed by the three different briefs I am writing for various cases I am involved in.

Things on the docket, in no particular order:

1. Our friends got married yesterday, in St. Mary's in downtown Indy. It's a beautiful church, the wedding was lovely, the priest got everyone's name right... What, you say? They get the names wrong, on the altar, when they are reciting the vows? Oh yes. In fact, I was a victim of such a thing, by a priest who knew me for a looooong time. Go figure. At least it was a good giggle between us on the altar, and I could hear all my friends in the pews trying to stifle laughs, because they know how much I hate being called by that particular name. Anyways. St. Mary's. It's right across from a grocery store, and if I had gotten married there, I think I would have marched over with my new husband, and bought some ice cream. It was warm yesterday.

2. We found a lovely nature trail that runs very close to our house, so we hiked on that today. It runs by a fairly big creek and reservoir in Indy, so we also got to confirm that Telly is water friendly. Um, water-friendly doesn't even begin to cover it, people. He dove in, he splashed around, he was mad that we kept him on a leash. He played with the hose when we came home, and smiled at us all through getting a bath. This one has water wings.

3. I made guacamole today. With limes. Yum.

4. We now have an electric fence for the dog. He looks more confused than anything else when he gets too close to the line, but he stays in the yard now--no more chasing him all over the neighborhood when he gets out of his collar (that little Houdini).

5. Dinner = chicken cordon bleu with sweet potatoes. All paleo friendly, even the sweet potato, since I had a workout this morning.

6. Speaking of this crazy diet, I have experienced a breakthrough. Because of the endometriosis, my periods are severely painful. Double vision, throwing up, curl up and die painful. Since I started eating like this, it's been getting better. This week, the period appeared--and it was pain free. I have NEVER had that happen. I don't know what else to attribute it to.

7. We have our outside furniture set up, and a book on the Cuban missile crisis is calling my name. Ta-ta!

Monday, April 5, 2010

Brief My Case

Case Name: Indianapolis v. Orlando

The Facts: Sister calls and mentions that she and your niece and your nephews will be in FL in two weeks, visiting your parents.

The Issue: To go, or not to go? That is the question.

Decision: ___________________________.

Explanation: I miss my niece, Prada, and nephews, Scout, Jeter, and Jedi. I miss my sista. I miss my parents. I love their townhouse, and its lovely location on the nature preserve. I miss the pool. I MISS THE MEMORY FOAM MATTRESS. Tickets are *only* 200!
However, I am a lawyer, with lots of responsibility, and clients who can't stand up for themselves. We are swamped right now. I don't want to go without Vor--I really want him to experience my parents in FL. But what would we do with the dog? would I be able to take time off in May? I am the maid of honor in my best friend's wedding--I have to save time off for that too. Tickets are 200 dollars! Good Lord!

Input welcome.

************************************************************************************

Um, Dear Indianapolis--tornado warnings? Do we remember how I react to weather warnings? Hail? Really?

************************************************************************************

GO BUTLER.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Good, Good Friday

The offices were closed today, but did I stay away? Noooooo. However, it's been a very abbreviated day as far as work goes--have to do more of that later this weekend, aka Saturday--and Lordy, has it been a good day.

It's 85 and sunny. Telly isn't thrilled with this, but I set out a huge bucket of water for him to play in, and he seems content with that. I wish I had pictures for you, but I was not sacrificing y camera to the cause. Also, my battery is dead.

I bought a short plastic barrel that looks like real wood barrel and loaded it with good soil. Sprinkled throughout this barrel are mint, rosemary, and chive plants. I'm planting the basil and cilantro tomorrow. Doesn't that sound amazing? There is plenty of room for all, and sticking your face in the barrel is like walking into an herb garden. Oh wait--it is!

The plan is to get a matching barrel on put it on the other side of the deck stairs. In this barrel will go the tomato plant (yes I learned my lesson. After the overwhelming number of tomatoes last year, we will be limiting ourselves to two tomato plants, max) and either lettuce, lavender, or green peppers. I haven't decided.

I also planted yellow and orange marigolds, because they are the happiest looking flowers I can think of. The tulips are coming up in the front.

While I was meandering my way out of downtown yesterday after court, I swung by a market that I had heard about (thank you VERY MUCH ma'am!). I cried (inwardly) and bought things. Farm fresh eggs! Local meat! Local vegetables! Amazing cheese! A wine and beer cellar! Sigh. I mooned over the good honey--raw honey--but that is still a no for me.

Speaking of my diet, it's going well. Actually, it's pretty amazing. Having been a south beach girl in the past, I was doubtful as to whether I could remain grain/carb/sugar free. After three months, it's no longer a problem. I've lost fifteen pounds with no real effort to change my exercise routine (ahem, none! well, okay I walk the dog every day), my skin is clearer, no sugar crashes, and strangely.... (side note--I am no Dr. I'm just noting what I've noticed!) the cramps haven't gone away, not by a long shot, but they aren't quite as bad as they were. We are talking crippling here, people, compliments of endometriosis. Things are getting there.

My brother, the man who converted my diet, and I had a lovely chat about organic, local food, etc. He is as conservative as they come, but when it comes to his food, he might as well be running around naked in a commune. He beat me to the punch and joined a CSA.

Anyone here part of a CSA or something similar? Also... anyone from around here and want to split a CSA share? I love me my veggies, but I can't eat all that. I would have to spend my life eating.

Yeah, I know, this was a totally lame and boring entry. If my camera was working, I would show you a picture of Telly, upside down on his back, sound asleep, with all four legs going all four directions. Guess you'll just have to imagine the cute.

Have a good Friday, a good Good Friday, and a happy Easter!

Monday, March 29, 2010

Hell Hath No Fury

I had to call make the phone call again today.

God, it is so draining. Why don't people understand that children are humans? What about that is so hard to grasp?

Friday, March 26, 2010

Spring is for T.S. Eliot

I bought tulips, lilies of the valley, and hyacinths (they called me the hyacinth girl).

I wandered through Lowes, lingering by the pansies and their vibrant colors, and I stopped by all the loves streams and water fountains they had set up in a secluded area (the wind blows the water white and black). Now that it's spring (now that the lilacs are in bloom), my recurring obsession with home improvement stores is in bloom, and I tend to bring things home (she has a bowl of lilacs in her room).

The stream nearby is defrosted, so in the morning, when I drive by, the fog rolls off it (the yellow fog that rubs in back upon the window panes) and its like driving through a movie scene.

I'm listening to Ragtime right now (in a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse) while Vor and I drink tea with the dog (talking of Michaelangelo).

And when I think about this blog, I think Dante said it best:

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse / A persona che mai tornasse al mondo / Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse / Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo / Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero / Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

Eliot agrees.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Blues for Sister Risky

I watched this guy in the room. He was big and intimidating, and I knew what his game was. I watched as he tried to get the female attorneys to step out in the hall with him, and they all looked uncomfortable. I watched as he politely spoke to the men. It's a messy case, with lots of attorneys.

"I need to have a word with you." He's staring at me. Most of the attorneys have run to grab coffee or water on the break. He heads towards the door of the hallway, assuming I will follow. I remain exactly where I am standing, in front of the court reporter's chair. We are on a brief recess.

"A PRIVATE word," he emphasizes, when he realizes I am not following him. I don't budge.

"No." I cross my arms, in my best I am not threatened by you manner, and do my best to stare down at him, even though he is about six foot two. "What would you like to speak about?"

Suddenly, his demeanor changes. He's very polite, and very uninterested. I've made myself a hard target. I won't even bend a little, cave to a demand of going into a hallway that is perfectly safe, given all the police around. If I had made that bend, maybe he would have tested more and more, until there was no safe harbor. But I didn't. I made myself a hard target. The female attorneys he hasn't approached yet follow my lead.

But that means he moves on to someone else.

I am under no illusion that I am remotely safe around this guy. Outside of the courtroom, I would find the nearest police officer. In the confines of the courtroom, I'm okay. I'm glad that I've come to a point where I have the wherewithall to recognize a predator and his tactics, and I am confident enough in myself in the courtroom that I can tell someone where to stick it.

But a small part of me is just screaming. Why did it take me this long to know this? Why wasn't I taught as a child to recognize that instinct that is screaming dangerous predator and act accordingly? Why was I taught to smile and be polite? Would things have been different for me if I had known this sooner?

Saturday, March 13, 2010

What About You?

1. Yes. My mother caused a massive crisis at the Scrappy/PD (sister/brother in law) home by dropping her cell phone in the toilet without knowing it. Apparently, once the REMOVED THE TOILET FROM THE FLOOR the cell phone turned on, informed everyone it was out of battery, and then shut down. The jury is still out on whether that thing will ever be used again. I have a picture, but I won't post it, because I think the Internet would collapse. It's that disgusting.

2. Yes. I am totally losing it as a blogger right now. Not that this matters to my huge and ever increasing fan base--love you guys! beauty waves!--but I do try. I am so tired when I get home from work. I worked until midnight the other night, and from 7:45 to until after six pretty regularly. I am beginning to think to people should get a license before they have children, and I have seen some really horrible stuff lately. I'm truly, deeply offended and angered by the laws that place the rights of parents higher than the rights of a child to be safe and stable.

3. My sister... hmm. I am still in a tizzy about this. It looks like something that can be handled easily if caught in time, but it makes me worry. Alot. ALOT. I don't even really know what to say. I'm just full of low level panic right now, a low enough level that I have a grip on it, but not low enough that I don't know that it's there.

4. Telly. He's a Golden Retriever. I am dead sure of this. But really, he must have the jaw stregnth of a pit bull, because he has destroyed every hard toy in this house. These are things he should not have been able to break, but he did. My dog is a chewer. I have never had a chewer dog before. This is not good for this dog. Also, he steals my socks--usually my dress socks, the expensive ones-- and makes off with them like a bandit. He chews, hides, and swallows them like a drug dealer trying not to get caught by the police.

5. We have company this weekend. I wish I felt more social, because they are great people. I would like to park myself in front of the TV with the entire Jane Austen BBC series.

Otherwise, I'm great.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Run On Down the Drain

I'm sure I will have more to tell you about later, especially in reference to what I am about to say, but for now, it is sunny and beautiful outside, and I need to go enjoy that.

Ahem. I'm just going to say this in a run on sentence, because in cases like this, punctuation really takes away from the story.

My mother's cell phone has been lost for four days and turned up yesterday in the toilet pipes at my sister's house, where she has been recovering from her surgery, covered in --stuff-- I'm sure you can imagine, my brother in law had to remove the toilet bowl from the floor to get at this cell phone, and my sister sent me a picture.

There, I said it.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Of Grudges, Death, and Hat Boxes

Yesterday and today have been spent worrying. I suspect there will be some more of that tomorrow, and the work week brings blessed relief and the ability to DO something, to change situation, and fix the problem.

Anyways.

I have an ancient, ancient copy of Rudyard Kippling's The Elephant's Child. My grandma read it to me, and I read it to her. By the time I was 19 and both my grandparents (paternal) had passed away, the only thing I wanted was this book. I was looking through it today, and saw a picture of my as a child and my grandmother stuck in it. It made me think of cleaning out my grandparents' house, and my aunt.

Oh, my aunt. She and my father, her brother, have always had a high conflict relationship. I don't know who aggravated it more, or what family members made it worse, but it was firmly entrenched by the time I came along. It wasn't a feud, but close.

What I understand now is that watching your parents become more helpless, age, and die must be a terrible thing to watch happen, especially when you feel you've left things unsaid. Then, I was 19, and I just watched, alone, as my grandfather died. I couldn't handle the drama; I needed to figure out how to handle what I saw. My mom and I began cleaning out the house--there is always junk, unnecessary things. We thought the empty, broken hatbox was one of those things.

Apparently, it wasn't. My aunt from zero to sixty, accusing my mother and I of breaking into the house, looting and trashing things, destroying all that was good in the house, and good in the world. Then she let loose on my mother about how I was a terrible child, because she was a terrible mother, and I would have been better raised by wolves. The thing I should have done, my aunt said, was take her away from you and raise her myself.

The grief was talking. There isn't a kernel of truth to this, and I couldn't have asked for a better mother. I was furious. My dad wasn't defending her, and neither were my siblings. I marched one mile in the dark and rain to my grandparents' house where my aunt was wallowing and told her off. I'm sure I addressed the looting issue, but I don't remember. I do remember telling her I would throw myself off a bridge before I ever went to live, if this was an example of how she thought people should be treated. I said everything I could think of to hurt her like she had hurt me and mine. I'm quite sure it worked. Even now, I don't feel regret when it replays in my mind.

We all tried to forgive each other. It was the grief talking. That's what we all said, over and over. But it got worse and worse, culminating in my aunt inviting my sister to her daughter's wedding, but refusing to my father's face to invite my brother or myself. My father was furious--my brother and I did a dance of celebration, and laughed at my sister, who was a dutiful daughter, niece, and cousin, and went. Not unforgivable, but in light of it all, it was the last thing.

I've tried, on and off. There are Christmas Cards, and thank you notes, and wedding invitations, but every time I get to the point where I think, I can pick up the phone and call you... I get the passive aggressive letter, the note, the snub, etc. Her husband is sick, and she blocks us from talking to him and sending cards. Her daughter's husband turns out to be a psychopathic abuser, and she says nothing to us, when we would have reached out.

I held that book in my hand twenty minutes ago, and I remember how angry I was when I first claimed the book. I wanted nothing other than this ratty old book, and it disappeared from the house. From May until December, I blamed my aunt for taking the only thing that made me cry. On December 25th, it was waiting for me under the Christmas tree. My mom wanted to put a picture in it of my grandmother and me before she gave it to me.

Did she deserve this? I don't know. I blamed her for it, and she had nothing to do with it. But sometimes I think she earned it through all the rest.

There was so much damage to that hat box. It was old, and barely on the hinges, and the box material itself was dryrotting. It was empty. There's been so much damage to this relationship. It's old, with too much history, and the hinges are broken. There is nothing but emptyness exchanges between the parties.

Can we forgive without regret? How do we let go? Do we let go? Do we try, but keep our guard up? Do we try with open hearts? Or do we stop drinking from the glass we know has made us sick every time before?

Friday, February 26, 2010

Taking Work Home

I would say thank God it's Friday, but Fridays are becoming a pattern of bad days.

Here we go again.

Monday, February 22, 2010

I Am Cavewoman

Snack = Pistachios = Love.

Dinner: steak (on sale!) and sweet potatoes (which is not really cheating, since Telly and I went for a run. In that case, sweet potatoes are allowed.) and some kind of salad (olive garden dressing!).

Dessert: almond muffins--no flour or any kind of starch--made with almond and pecan flour. With blueberries in the middle.

And here I thought this diet would be hard... it's been a breeze. Kind of like my Breeze Almond Milk... yes, that's right. I don't drink regular milk anymore, because my body turns it directly into sugar. So, almond milk, and I actually like it better. My beef with milk has always been that it taste like nothing, so it ends up tasting like the carton. Not so--now it tastes like almonds.

Drum Roll......

Down ten pounds from I started this, and down a size. And of course, the added health benefits, yada, yada, yada.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Paint Me a Picture

In the interests of distraction, I have been playing with paint swatches.

Bedroom: blues, with an accent wall, with blue going into the bathroom. (or should I do browns or oranges?)

Kitchen: it's a pale green. Meh. Leave it that way.

Living room / entry way: It's all white right now. I need SOMETHING more. Maybe just an off white or cream, something warmer.

Office: oranges. Love orange. So warm and toasty, especially since we might change it into a library someday.

Dining room: egg plant purple is what it is, and what it shall remain. Especially since I have now have Georgia O'Keeffe's "Petunias" in there.

Future baby room: two shades of green. Envisioning this separated by a border, low on the wall. So cute!

Future other baby room: Help?

Guest room? Help?

Basement: Help? (NO WINDOWS in the basement. So how do you do that with colors? I am so tired of tanish cream)

Come on people. It's a lazy Sunday. Help me out! Tell me what yours is like, or your best ideas!

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

And Then it was Thursday

Last night: home after 8 pm.

Tonight: home after 8 pm.

Plan: take husband's picture to work to memorize.

Plan: keep map in car, indicating route to get home, so I do not forget.

Tomorrow is a new day. I never could get the hang of Thursdays, though.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Drain

It was so bad, so bad, so bad that I had to make the call. Yesterday. Then I dreamt all night about what brought this situation about, and hoped all night there would be no retaliation. It was sad, and it was exhausting.

Both of senior attorneys in the office assured me it was right. I know it was; that's not what was making me sick. It's just that no child should have to see life this way.

My dog watched the water run out of the bathtub last night, and he was fascinated. I watched the water run out, and a small part of me wondered if some where out there, someone was running out of time and hope.

I'm going to breakfast with Vor and our close friends and family. That, and sleeping next to my husband, is like plugging the drain, and filling up again with love, and hope.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Better Than Chocolate

This week, Vor came home with groceries.

The way the weekend had been meant I wasn't able to go to the grocery store for our usual shopping, and I hate going to the grocery store after work. It's crowded, I'm tired, the dog is home crossing his legs and his eyes are turning yellow.

So, Vor brought groceries home. While I was telling myself not to get too emotional and cry out of sheer happiness over the groceries, he then produced yellow tulips (two lips are better than one! Tangent: in high school, we had tulips as the spring decor on our door of my all girls school, and we then put that as the slogan on the door. My homeroom teacher thought it was hilarious. The nuns took it down. ANYWAYS) and then the waterworks started. Vor thinks I am nuts. He might be right.

This weekend, we aren't doing anything valentiney. I really always hated it anyways. On Saturday, we are meeting friends for breakfast. Saturday evening, we are geeking out and going to the Indiana State Museum to see the "For the Love of Lincoln" exhibit. Geeking. Out. So much better than chocolate, dinner, and movie.

Tonight is this for dinner. Ravenous.

I have always preferred Mac to PC/windows, but I have truly discovered the joy of the iChat. People! I talk to my nieces and nephews every day! I see them everyday! I talk to my siblings every day and see them! I have never talked so much to my brother in my entire life! And since my parents were visiting my sister, I got to see them too. Amazing. I am completely converted, sold, and I am not only drinking the purple kool-aid, I am doing a keg stand with the purple kool-aid.

I don't know what to make of this ridiculousness that Indianapolis makes out of snow. 2 inches of snow is not a blizzard. You should not shut down school for four inches. You really should be able to plow the roads before 1 pm. Eight feet of snow is a problem. Eight feet of snow meant I could jump off the roof of my parents house, and it meant at least two days off from school. Eight inches is not a problem. But man, eight feet of snow was really fun...

I need new friends. Well, not clean house new, keep the old, and all that, but I need a few more. I have very few close female friends--two to be exact--and if anyone is feeling temperamental or stressed out, it tends to mean I have no one to turn to hang out with or be stressed out to. Other than Vor. I think Vor needs me to have a few more friends. I'm not really good at the reaching out part, but I am trying, hesitantly. Maybe I will set up an application on this blog... mmm. I had a friend who set up a girlfriend application on his blog. I don't think that ended well. Serves him right.

What else is better than chocolate?