Monday horoscope

Take action on your emotions today, Amanda, and follow through with hints from your intuition. You would do very well in any sort of group situation, and you have the power and emotion behind your words to make a favorable impression on others. You should look to take a leading role in these types of situations and make sure to voice your honest opinions on the pressing issue at hand.

Ugh. This horoscope is exhausting for a Monday morning. I don't want to take a leading role. I don't want to be in a group situation. I'd really like to go back to bed!

Happy Birthday Aquarians!

Tomorrow begins a full 7 days of birthday fun for three great women - my wonderfully perfect mother, the fabulous Kelly P., and the outrageous me!

Prepare yourselves for a week of love for my favorite fellow Aquarian women!

Back to the farm

I headed to my hometown this weekend with Milo. I had a dental appointment on Friday and Milo and I both had haircuts on Saturday. I realize that I could probably get these sorts of things taken care of in the big city of Indy, but I'm partial to my dentist, my hair dresser, and my dog groomer. And besides that, my friends at home are of the old, childhood kind, the bar we frequent usually under-charges me by about half, and I really like my parents very much. It's a great place to visit about every four or five weeks to clear the mind of all the crap I normally put into it.

It was a relatively quiet weekend, and that's not unusual around there. The most excitement I had was getting my eyebrows waxed and having some funky reaction that made my eyes all red and puffy. Luckily, I had this done on Saturday after I'd gone out on the town on Friday.

Anyhow, Friday late afternoon I met up with my friends at the one downtown bar/restaurant where we weren't likely to run into Mr. Ex-Amanda, where we pretty much know everyone else, and where we can drink for cheap, gossip about the local politics, and listen to retro-80s tunes courtesy of my friend, Mark, who always takes over the jukebox and only plays music from his high school days, circa 1985. As usual, we had a blast, laughed too loud, caught up on who's sleeping with who, got a bit dirty, got a bit catty, did a couple of shots in honor of upcoming birthdays, and then called it an early night. I was home just as the 11 o'clock news came on, and I'm not sure what else to say about that. We considered getting drunk-beautiful and hitting the karoke bar down the block, but opted to forego the hangover feeling like you want to die the next morning. That probably was a good choice, given the next day's eyebrow fiasco.

Saturday, we had family dinner night. My dad fired up the grill in the snow, and I made some killer twice-baked potatoes. Sunday, I went to church with the Ps and then headed back home. Sorry to disappoint any readers looking for anything illicit or reeking of smut from my weekend (i.e., Charles). My life has gotten so comfortably normal lately that I might have to dig in the archives again for something a bit more exciting :)

Bartender Wisdom

Awhile back, my girlfriend AJ passed around He's Just Not That Into You. AJ had somehow scored a scarce copy of the book shortly after the authors appeared on Oprah, causing chains to sell out immediately and online stores to backorder copies for weeks in an effort supply all the Oprah women of the world desperately seeking the secret to a perfect relationship with some magic advice. At any rate, AJ brought the book along when a couple of us met up at Bahama Breeze one night for cocktails. My girlfriends and I sat there at the bar drinking frozen froo-froo drinks, reading passages, identifying the bad traits of past boyfriends and dates from hell, identifying disgustingly clingy traits of our past selves, and screaming with laughter. Eventually, AJ set the book on the bar and before long, the young bartender was flipping through it with acute interest. He set the book back down, looked at the three of us, and said in all seriousness, "If you ladies need a book to tell you this crap, you've obviously got bigger problems than landing a decent guy."

Personally, I couldn't agree more with the bartender.

Friday Five

The Friday Five has been blatantly stolen from Kevin because I am a thief.

Friday Five's Favorite Quotes of the Day (not to be confused with all-time favorite quotes):

1. "I'm brilliant but I have to do dumb and self-destructive things to relax." Again, ganked from here but such a true statement.

2. "Go sell crazy someplace else. We're all stocked up here." An ongoing motto of my life.

3. "I'm just sayin'!" I love and use this quote from Kelly, who always says it in such a way that drives a point home and makes me crack up.

4. "I don't know why people videotape sex because after I have sex, the only thing I can think of is that I'm glad that nobody saw that." As heard here.

5. And my favorite of the day: "If you can't say anything nice, come sit by me." So very true.

EDIT: This one just came my way via Kevin (bad day?) and really deserves a place on the morning list: "Ever feel like beating someone's head into a wall just to prove it serves a higher purpose when not wedged up one's ass?" I love it!

Sunshine Daydream

My mom sent me a funny e-mail yesterday regarding my last post. She reminded me that I once called her and told her I was considering leaving undergrad to follow the Grateful Dead for awhile. I, of course, do not remember this conversation, but my mom recalled almost having a nervous breakdown at my contemplation of yet another diversion to avoid actually getting a degree and joining the responsible world of working adults. I had, after all, changed my major 4 times, considered leaving college to be a pastry chef (as mentioned previously), considered leaving college to join the police force and become a homicide detective, and apparently considered leaving college to follow the Grateful Dead. I did eventually graduate after sticking around on the five-year plan, but only managed to stay out of school for six months before bailing on the real world and returning for graduate work. That's another story for another time, but the avoiding-the-real-world-in-favor-of-college was a pervasive trend throughout my 20s. I've promised myself that the buck stops here at thirty-something and law school, but sometimes being a hair dresser sounds like it could be interesting.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to the Grateful Dead.

When I moved into the most insane co-ed dorm at Ball State University in the fall of 1991, I quickly realized that I had lived somewhat of a sheltered life. Not that I was an angel - far from it, but I was not wise to the ways of partying like these kids were. BSU was, at that time, still considered among the top ten party schools in the country (nothing to be real proud of there, I know. I don't think my parents knew about that statistic when I chose BSU). I discovered that my new next-door dorm-mates, Lily and Harmony, were single-handedly trying to keep BSU in the running for top honors. Those two girls not only knew how and when to throw a great party, but they knew people to party with, having spent many weekends at Ball State during their senior years in high school. Not me - I pretty much came straight from the farm.

Harmony, as you might have guessed by her name, was the only child of ultra-liberal, hippie parents. She had long, curly hair and wore twirly skirts and birkenstocks and occassionally scored pot for her dad. Lily was much the same, and before long, I, too, had myself a pair of birkenstocks. The first time I ever heard the Grateful Dead was within the first week or so of my freshman year, unless you count the overkill radio play of "Touch of Grey" and I do not. I was laying across a loft bed in Lily and Harmony's purple cinderblock dorm room when I first heard "Sugar Magnolia" and I was hooked, just as I was after hearing "Peace Train" by Cat Stevens and "Stir It Up" by Bob Marley for the first time. I quickly did away with my mainstream music in favor of this old stuff that was so refreshingly new to me.

We had a great group of friends back then - all guys except Lily, Harmony and myself. They were mostly art majors, rugby players, tree-huggers and stoners. We hung out. We helped each other through the difficult core classes, and skipped the easier elective classes on sunny afternoons. We drank cheap beer. We lived together. We snuck off to the art building in the middle of the night to throw pottery. We played frisbe in the Quad. We rode our bikes to the rock quarry and swam at sunrise. We had fun theme parties. We went to rugby games. We camped at the Water Bowl. We grilled out and sat on the porches. We listened to Fred play his guitar and sing his tunes. We had dart tournaments and euchre tournaments that lasted all night long. We borrowed my parents' minivan and drove it to Florida for Spring Break. We absolutely adored each other, and sometimes we even tried to date each other. And through it all, we were almost always listening to the Grateful Dead. We really were pretty good kids, and I grew up a lot in those first two years of college with these people beside me.

I went to my first show the summer following my freshman year. One show led to another, which led to traveling around as much as my work schedule would allow and as much as I could get away with. Lily, Harmony and I would throw our toothbrushes, lip balm and a couple of sweatshirts into a bag, and off we'd go, sure to meet up with the boys at some point and hoping they would have tickets for us. We'd park in the lot, lay out on the hood of Lily's car in our bikini tops and cut-offs, smoking Camel Lights, listening to bootleg recordings, making friends with whatever neighbors might pull up next to us in an old VW minibus, waiting for the gates to open. We met the most eclectic people from all walks of life at those shows. We bought veggie burritos and got hair wraps and listened to drum circles. The shows were always amazing, but I loved the electric excitement of the parking lot atmosphere before the shows. We were spontaneous and crazy and by all standards, irresponsible. But we had more fun asserting our independence and our free spirit during those summers with the Dead.

The following year we did it all over again, although we worked more and went to fewer shows outside of Indiana. By the next year, we all seemed to be moving in a different direction. Maybe we were growing up, but we also were growing apart. I was crazy about a new boyfriend who wasn't into the Dead scene, and as often happens at that age, I found myself drifting away from my old group and into a new group. I remember feeling like maybe I was selling out, whatever that meant, and telling myself that I was just getting older and this was life. Whatever it was that changed that year, I always missed something about those early days of college. And I always knew that I would never recapture that carefree spirit from those days again.

But whenever I listen to the Grateful Dead today, I can almost remember what it was like when life seemed so very simple and easy.

Come hear uncle john's band by the riverside...

I sort of woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I had the tsunami nightmare again - the one where the wave hits my parents' house and washes everyone away but me.

So in order to combat a potentially yucky morning, I decided I would work from the library and/or home today after class, I put on my favorite jeans and tennis shoes (an absolute luxury since I spend most days in shoes typically short on comfort), left early enough to get myself a pumpkin spice cappuccino, and played the following Grateful Dead tune - the Jimmy Buffet version - on repeat all the way to the school:

Uncle John's Band

Well the first days are the hardest days, don’t you worry any more,
’cause when life looks like easy street, there is danger at your door.
Think this through with me, let me know your mind,
Wo, oh, what I want to know, is are you kind?

It’s a buck dancer’s choice my friend; better take my advice.
You know all the rules by now and the fire from the ice.
Will you come with me? won’t you come with me?
Wo, oh, what I want to know, will you come with me?

Goddamn, well I declare, have you seen the like?
Their wall are built of cannonballs, their motto is don’t tread on me.
Come hear uncle john’s band playing to the tide,
Come with me, or go alone, he’s come to take his children home.

It’s the same story the crow told me; it’s the only one he knows.
Like the morning sun you come and like the wind you go.
Ain’t no time to hate, barely time to wait,
Wo, oh, what I want to know, where does the time go?

I live in a silver mine and I call it beggar’s tomb;
I got me a violin and I beg you call the tune,
Anybody’s choice, I can hear your voice.
Wo, oh, what I want to know, how does the song go?

Come hear uncle john’s band by the riverside,
Got some things to talk about, here beside the rising tide.
Come hear uncle john’s band playing to the tide,
Come on along, or go alone, he’s come to take his children home.
Wo, oh, what I want to know, how does the song go.

This song ranks as one of my top favorites. It reminds me of a very carefree time in my life when trading my toothbrush to a hippie in exchange for hair wraps with little bells at a Deer Creek show seemed like a perfectly sensible thing to do, and I will always love the Grateful Dead for inspiring those memories. There has been much speculation as to true meaning of the Uncle John's Band lyrics, including whether or not the song is essentially about drug use. It makes no difference to me - I just love the song. This guy has done a fascinating annotation of the lyrics well worth taking a look at if you're so inclined.

At any rate, I feel much, much better now.

More happy thoughts to combat the winter blahs!

Happy Monday

According to some people, today - January 24th - is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. It's pretty damn ominous to pick out a day and suggest that normal people are likely to be more depressed than usual, if you ask me. And besides - it is the middle of winter. We're supposed to be depressed.

Luckily, I did not succumb to psychosomatic depression when I read the story. It was sunny today, and I got to wear my fun pink sunglasses. Also, I got to leave the office this afternoon and deliver some documents to a judge living in a gated community, giving me a close-up look at a house so magnificent that I almost got lost in the driveway looking for the right wing. But surprisingly, I did not get lost looking for the community itself, and it was a good day to take a drive out of the city and rock out to Jimmy Buffett. In other good news of the day, the back crick seems to be on the mend (or at least being masked by better meds), the school cafeteria had my favorite soup - tomato florentine, I got invited to a very fun Oscars party with pajama attire, and just in case it snows any time soon and my car is outside, I have a brand spankin' new ice scraper thanks to someone thoughtful enough to realize that my old one sucked pretty bad.

Yep, those bloody brits didn't even come close to ruining my cheery day!

Goodbye Johnny

There will be a lot less laughs in the world. Johnny Carson died this morning.

Sex, drugs, rock & roll, and toxic torts

As previously predicted by moi, it seems that I have indeed picked an excellent round of classes for my last semester. For the first time in 6 semesters, I enjoyed every single class I had this week. *shocking* In fact, I skipped a perfect opportunity to skip a class Friday afternoon when an appointment at work was rescheduled. I had previously committed to a project for work and knew I was going to have to miss this particular class. When the project was rescheduled, rather than stay at work or go home early (typical Amanda M.O.) I raced off to the school just in time for my class. *really shocking*

At any rate, I am happy. Here's my take thus far (keeping in mind that my opinion of classes and/or professors is subject to change at a moment's notice for any number of reasons):

1. Sexual Harassment - I took this class for the obvious reasons, plus it fit well into my schedule. Also, I had heard the prof was, while demanding, excellent in class and fair with exams. She's also fabulously uninhibited and will talk openly and directly about the issues, and I love to see other people squirm. I was also pleased when I got the syllabus to see that we would be covering a broad range of litigation elements - anticipating litigation, discovery and evidence, defenses, and alternative resolutions. Being one who loves litigation strategies and alternatives to litigation, I am looking forward to learning some new things withinin the context of sexual harassment. I do think that this will be one of my more time-consuming classes and difficult exams.

2. Freedom of Speech, Press & Religion - I made some changes in my schedule over winter break which resulted in my picking up this class, and I could not be happier that I did so! The class is on the small side, and the professor really seems to enjoy teaching this subject. He is a very funny guy, and he'll keep me on my toes during class. I like his teaching style (no socratic method bullshit) and from my previous experience, his exams are very fair. The reading is interesting (he assigned an Ozzy Osbourne freedom of speech case the first week), and I hear that the material from this class will ultimately be of great help with the constitutional law portion of bar review. Besides, I sit next to Kelly, and she brings Life-savers and cookies and makes funny jokes. I think this will also be a time-consuming class but well worth it in the end.

3. Alternative Dispute Resolution - Okay, I took this class partly because a) it was offered once a week on Tuesday evenings, and b) I heard it was the easiest A in law school. But I also took this class because I truly think that in almost every case, an alternative to litigation is better than litigation itself. ADR, including mediation, is a huge step in the right direction toward slowing the overly-litigious trend of society. And that's coming from someone who wants to be a plaintiff's attorney. I liked the prof - she is practical and teaches the class as a practical course. If I don't get 2 credits of A from this class, I might need to consider changing careers to writing fortune cookie fortunes after all.

4. Food and Drug Law - I have been waiting to take Beer and Nacho Law for 5 semesters now, and this class is going to absolutely kick ass. The prof scores a 10 on my scale of cool (and he's good looking, which never hurts), and I hear that Indy's hottest young lawyer, Lawren, might be filling in for the prof on occasion. Additionally, the course content is right up my alley. I am doing quite a bit of work with my job on drug litigation right now, and the FDA is my most recent soapbox. So much potential litigation falls under food and drug law, and understanding these regulations is just practical knowledge we should have. All that practical stuff aside, the prof brought CAKE to the first class and scheduled beer to be brought in for the entire class as an illustration for alcohol regs. Each week, a student group will illustrate the topic of discussion with some food item. I wouldn't mind taking on the Viagra/Cialis/Levitra drugs because y'all know Kelly P., Heidi and I can come up with some fun props on that! Maybe we could get that hottie (and married) John C. to take the drugs and report back...

5. Environmental and Toxic Torts - Again, I adore the prof for this class. He's brilliant in the subject, easy-going with students, and clear about his expectations for the class. Kelly, Deb and Julia are in here as well, and by the time I got to the first class, Kelly had staked out a seat in the front row. Normally, I would not like this at all. However, in this class I think I will prefer sitting up front. There are 14 students registered, and that (I hope) will foster good conversation in class. I am looking forward to participating because I enjoy this topic so much, but the prof has also adopted a fabulous grading system for rewarding students who are prepared for the majority of classes. Prep for this class will likely be time-consuming, but if I am enjoying the reading, it won't feel like such a chore.

I'll report back in a couple of weeks, and we'll see if I'm still loving my semester. But so far, I've definitely landed a great group of professors, and putting together a single semester of really good profs is no easy feat. Also, each class perfectly suits some particular interest of mine. In that respect, I think it will be easier for me to stay inspired by and current with the material than it has been in past semesters.

And thank GOD I'm not taking income tax in my last semester like some people did!

Back stabber

I have some kind of crick in my back, or whatever it is that you say when you've got some weird back thing going on. It feels like there is a knife stuck right between my shoulder blades, and when I move my head side to side, the knife twists right along with my neck. This is no fun, and it is not very conducive to reading. Not that I was planning on actually getting all caught up for the 2nd week of classes or anything.

Anyhow, I went to Walgreens earlier to get something other than Excedrine (which is all I've got in my medicine cabinet because it kills just about every kind of pain, especially the wine-induced kind). I figured I needed one of those anti-inflamatory drugs, and so I ended up getting some pain relief stuff for back aches. I feel old. I should've just picked up some denture cream and incontinence pads while I was at it.

Instead, I bought a new shiny tawny lipstick that promises to have lip therapy and smashing color all in one.

This one's for Charles

Such a cute couple! Except they aren't a couple. There is a small issue or two standing in the way of that, but I love this picture of Kyleen and Chuck nonetheless!

Cherries in the Glow

When I was in undergrad, I had a back-up plan for my career. It was a pretty crappy back-up plan, but as an anthropology major, any back-up plan was necessary. Here are three jobs I decided I would be good at (keeping in mind that this was 10+ years ago):

1. Teletyper. I'm not sure how you get this gig, but I type really fast and would love to come up with the schmucky comments for background music and extraneous noises.
2. The girl that rode the Colt's horse into the endzone when they scored at a home game. They don' t do this anymore, but at the time it would have been a sweet weekend job. Yes, I realize that my thighs would have likely precluded me from the gig, but this is a back-up plan and getting this job was about as likely as getting an anthropology-related position out of undergrad.
3. The person who names cosmetics colors. I would seriously be really good at this. I sort of have a thing for lipsticks. Having a lot of them - most very similar in color, and none too flashy - makes me happy. I just looked in my purse, and I currently have the following colors: Diva, Love Potion, Brick Rose, No. 715, Plum Wet (my very favorite ever), Cherries in the Glow, Raisin Glow, and Wine Duet. Yes, I have all of these in my bag today, but I'm only wearing Diva. Give me any color make-up, and I can give you a cool, marketable name.

Well, neither my anthropology degree nor any part of my back-up plan worked out (surprise, surprise). I don't have a back-up plan for a law degree. I better not need a back-up plan at this point. However, a comment by Kelly to my last post got me thinking...

I would be really good at writing fortunes for fortune cookies. I wonder how much that gig pays...

Get back to work!!

Between my work (very busy), starting classes (already behind), stalking for parking (way too time consuming), keeping up with e-mails and voice-mails and meetings (oh my!), going out (had fun), catching up on a severe lack of sleep (had my first tsunami nightmare), and trying to keep my head above water this week, I have not had much time to blog.

I know, I know - everyone's busy. That's certainly true enough, but damn if I don't feel like a pinball being bounced all over the place! Once I get settled with the new schedule and the newness wears off this round of classes, I'm sure I'll be writing more regularly. Not just to appease my demanding friend Chuck, who uses blogging as a break from studying for the bar exam, but because there are funny, and sometimes not so funny, things I would like to be writing about.

At any rate, here are some interesting things I've noticed lately:

* I have a huge amount of respect for blind people and their bravery in getting out there and navigating the world. They typically do it much better than I do, and I can see just fine.
* Fortune cookies rarely tell me what I want to hear. Even if I go through six of them.
* My new kickass Nancy Sinatra stiletto boots have been relegated back to the closet for now. Apparently, these boots were not made for walkin'.
* Men with dimples are attractive.
* I've said it before and I'll say it again - I have the best girlfriends in the world. Three of them were sweetly over protective of me this week (Kelly P., Kelly and Lawren), and another one completely jumped into my schedule and made fun birthday plans for me because I couldn't seem to figure out the what and the when (Thanks, AJ!).
* Reconnecting with an old girlfriend is a good thing, especially when she's starting 15 weeks of bed rest before having twins (Hi Melissa!).
* Speaking of my birthday, it is coming up on Super Bowl Sunday, so start your shopping now.
* According to this test, I act my age. HA!!!
* My bar application is due April 1st. I am still in shock that I haven't flunked out of school yet.
* Do NOT neglect to pay a parking ticket in Hamilton County, Indiana. You will get a summons to court, and you will have to call and be very sweet and apologetic in order to get the fine reduced to a level less than the national debt.
* Two of my classes smell like tuna.
* Satan is in one of my classes.
* There is nothing that a new tube of lipstick won't help.
* I really, really love cake.

Garage love

My computer says it is 1 degree, and the news says it is 3 degrees. Either way, it's freakin' cold outside. However, I need not worry. I am one of the lucky ones with a garage. It's a wonderful thing, and the love I have for this garage is not unlike the love I had for the garbage disposal in my first apartment.

See, before I moved to the suburbian utopia I currently enjoy, I never had a garage before. I've never lived in a real suburb before! I grew up on a small farm. We didn't have a garbage disposal. Or a dishwasher. Or a garage. I think the barn, at one time, sported a garage-like area. However, my dad - and this won't surprise anyone who knows him - promptly converted the garage area into yet another horse stall because as everyone knows, you can never have too many horse stalls. And so I was relegated to parking outside and scraping the effects of Indiana weather off my '84 Horizon from the birth of my driver's license. In college, no garage. After college, no garage, even when I briefly lived in Denver, Colorado and there were frequent hail stoms. Before moving to Indy, I spent about 4 years in the upstairs condo of a downtown building in my hometown. No garage there, either.

But alas, I've moved up in the world, and I now have access to a garage! I no longer get rained on! My car does not get egged! I don't have to scrape ice from my windshield! My car will start this morning without a hitch! It makes me happy! When I have to move from here in June, I will be looking for someplace with a garage and a yard. Milo and I have gotten spoiled in our little utopia. I may only be able to afford a shack, but if it has a garage and a little yard for the monster, we'll be happy as bugs.

For the very last time!

Law of Environmental & Toxic Tort - $93.50
Sexual Harassment Law - $80.00
Quick Medical Terminology - $19.95
Food and Drug Law (used, thanks to Debi E.) - $40.00
Alternate Dispute Resolution - $36.00
Two brand-spankin' new Hi-Liters - $1.58
Borrowing Freedom of Speech, Press & Religion Constitutional Law book from Kelly P. - FREE

Standing in line at the bookstore for 20 minutes next to a chatty 2L with big green eyes and a southern twang- almost priceless.

Standing in line at the bookstore for 20 minutes waiting to get buggered by the almighty publishers of law textbooks for the very last time - absolutely priceless!

Just another manic monday...

But it appears to be better than yesterday! I got an excellent night's sleep, and even the little monster decided not to get up at his usual 4:45am this morning. The pensive mood seems to have lifted, I stayed in bed until 6:30, I'm on my second cup of kick-ass java, and I'm wearing new shoes today! What more can a girl as for on a Monday?

I just wish everyone would stop re-hashing yesterday's game. I had to bail on the breakroom conversation first thing this morning. What a bunch of fair-weather fans!

Colts highlights from my living room to yours...

4:50 - It's snowing. So much for Chuck Lofton.
5:15 - Bonnie's braids... Cute if she were broadcasting live from a farm. Not cute with that hat.
5:20 - That BudLight commercial with the parrot and the "She's annoying but I'm desperate" guy cracks me up.
5:24 - No score yet.
5:32 - Damn. Pats score.
5:38 - Brilliant observation by commentator: "It is still snowing."
5:42 - Another field goal for Pats. 6-0. This game thus far makes me feel like having a whiskey on the rocks, but I'm not losing faith yet. We can rock in the 2nd half if necessary.
Extra observation: Tom Brady could give Payton Manning a run for his money for the "Sexiest Football Player Alive" award.
5:53 - GET OUT!! They are NOT EVEN going to give that ball to the Pats! A completion AND a fumble recovery?! WTF?
6:04 - SWEET trickery by Manning and the Edge on that play, even with the false start penalty.
6:11 - SCORE! Only down 3 at the half is nothing to fret about.
Halftime - walked the dog to the mailbox. It's freakin' cold as balls out there.
6:29 - That roughness was so unnecessary.
6:40 - We are getting killed in rushing.
6:45 - Touchdown Pats. BOOOOOOOO!
7:01 - I'm half-listening, half-reading for class, and trying not to fret.
7:12 - Another touchdown for New England. Yeah, I'm fretting now. I should have gone to Kelly's house for the game. At least I could be commiserating with her family, as the snoozing Milo is of little comfort.
7:18 - Fumble. Ugh.
7:40 - It was a GREAT season, even if it did end here. I'm proud of the blue, and now I'm going to go curl up in a ball.

This and that...

Another blanket of snow covers the ground this morning, and Milo is currently outside wreaking havoc on the beauty that was the backyard. I'm wondering if there is enough snow to warrant my shoveling the walks again this weekend, and since I have yet to hear snowblower neighbor man, I'm hoping maybe not. It's frigid cold, though. Thank goodness we have this weather here rather than in New England. I'm thinking today is the day that my beloved Colts will finally beat those Pats.

The past few days have been incredibly busy, both with work and fun, and I haven't had time to blog as much as I've wanted to. Classes resume Tuesday, and I have done little to prepare for them as of this morning. Assignments are posted, but I have yet to finish buying my books or start the anal-retentive preparation for the beginning of my last semester. Luckily, my style of prep isn't nearly as time consuming as some of my cohorts with their color-coded folders and coordinated, highlighted syllabuses, but I still like to be relatively ready to go on the first day back to classes. The "getting ready to go" is really not unlike all the other "first days back to school" from grade school on, only now I've traded my Fraggle Rock lunch box for my laptop. I need to at least give the assignments a cursory reading before classes, so perhaps I will get to that this afternoon. I still am waiting for two grades to come in from last semester, and right now my semester GPA is deceivingly hot. I don't expect that to remain the case once Business Associations and Trusts & Estates, my two most difficult classes, are posted. My goal going into my last year was to bump my cumulative GPA up about .5 of a point total, and those grades could make or break me. I know .5 doesn't sound like much unless you are in law school, but it can make a significant difference. Besides, it was just a personal goal of mine regardless of any difference it may or may not make. I like to feign apathy over my grades, but anyone who really knows me knows that I'm just as insane as the next law student. I just don't like to get all worked up about it.

I took 1/2 day off work on Friday and did some power shopping with Kelly P. My best buy of the day - kickass stilleto brown leather boots that make me sing Nancy Sinatra. Friday night, my law school buddies threw a great post-holiday, back-to-school shindig, and I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt yesterday. Damn but those crazy kids crack me up! We have such a great group of witty, diverse, bitchy, funny, sweet, giving, caring, and neurotic people. And then there's Chuck :) Our friends hosting the party announced their pregnancy, and we couldn't be happier that they are knocked up! This particular couple will make amazing parents for sure, and I wish them the very best with their move post law school to the U.P. of Michigan.

Yesterday afternoon/evening I finally had some downtime at home. So I worked some yesterday and then rented some movies last night. It has been months since I have rented movies (I did not have a membership down here in Indy. In order to get one at Blockbuster, you pretty much have to promise to hand over your first-born child if you don't return a movie. The new "no late fee'" policy is bullshit. I'm just sayin'), and there are so many great flicks that I have not seen. Last night, I watched De-Lovely. I love Kevin Kline and Ashley Judd, the costumes and scenery were fabulous, the music divine, but I wasn't crazy about the movie itself, although I'm not sure what it was lacking. I wasn't lacking anything with my massive quantities of diet coke and real, homemade popcorn. Milo looooooves the buttery stuff.

I stopped the movie marathon last night to watch the NBC Tsunami Telethon. From Madonna's rendition of John Lennon's "Imagine" on, the stories and performances were heart-felt and heart-wrenching, and I watched and cried for the unspeakable and incomprehensible masses of families and individuals affected by the tragedy. I think many of us have watched the news and pictures since December 26th with awe and shock and disbelief at the far-reaching extent of the disaster, but the stories of the missing, the surviving, the grief-stricken, the destitute - those stories make it real, and those stories made me give a little of the wealth that we all enjoy as Americans. A few days after the tsunami hit, I viewed a slide show of pictures from the devastated regions. These pictures showed mothers craddeling their dying children, fathers crying out in grief over losing an entire family, brothers and sisters looking through the lines of bodies for any recognizable relative, small, lonely children with faces of confusion and sadness. I realized then that grief looks the same in every language, in every culture, in all people. It is human and basic and so painfully tragic. I only wish there was more that I could do than simply give money. Kevin has a poignant post on the telethon this morning as well.

The BIG GAME is today. I've got lots to do before then if I'm to be even remotely ready for the upcoming week. I haven't heard the snowblower yet, so I think I might be off the hook with the snow shoveling! But some cleaning needs done, laundry needs done, assignments aren't going to read themselves, so I'm off for now.

Panda KISS!

Compliments of my mom's morning e-mail funnies. Too cute!

Vino and shrinks

Well, I thought someone might actually bite on my last post as to whether I really ate bull testicles (I did), but no such luck. Seems that eating beef balls isn't nearly as interesting as where the hell I was all day today. For the record, I was working without access to the computer. I was not sleeping in, nor was I hungover, although I had a great time with the girls here last evening. We just went to hang out and catch up on gossip, but apparently there was some kind of networking event going on as well. I'm not sure if it was a singles thing, a professional thing, or a singles professional thing, but there certainly was no shortage of schmoozy, middle-aged women trying to impress and/or bag equally schmoozy but younger men. From all the stick-on nametags I saw, it seemed like a successful event for whatever the purpose. But I really hate stick-on nametags and pretentious, fake assholes. We didn't participate at all other than a brief conversation with a couple of psychiatry residents vaguely known to one of my friends. They sat next to me, and I momentarily considered telling them all kinds of crazy, made-up symptoms and then asking them if they thought I should be under a doctor's care. I'm not right, I know. I probably wouldn't have had to make up all that much, either, come to think of it. Anyhow, they were nice enough, I guess, but during the course of the conversation, I decided that one of the two could likely benefit from some of his own medicine. Nothing like an amateur attorney playing amateur shrink after a flight of wine.

Don't eat before you read this...

Last night I finished reading the fabulous Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by Anthony Bourdain. This editorial review is worth the read:

Most diners believe that their sublime sliver of seared foie gras, topped with an ethereal buckwheat blini and a drizzle of piquant huckleberry sauce, was created by a culinary artist of the highest order, a sensitive, highly refined executive chef. The truth is more brutal. More likely, writes Anthony Bourdain in Kitchen Confidential, that elegant three-star concoction is the collaborative effort of a team of "wacked-out moral degenerates, dope fiends, refugees, a thuggish assortment of drunks, sneak thieves, sluts, and psychopaths," in all likelihood pierced or tattooed and incapable of uttering a sentence without an expletive or a foreign phrase. Such is the muscular view of the culinary trenches from one who's been groveling in them, with obvious sadomasochistic pleasure, for more than 20 years. CIA-trained Bourdain, currently the executive chef of the celebrated Les Halles, wrote two culinary mysteries before his first (and infamous) New Yorker essay launched this frank confessional about the lusty and larcenous real lives of cooks and restaurateurs. He is obscenely eloquent, unapologetically opinionated, and a damn fine storyteller--a Jack Kerouac of the kitchen. Those without the stomach for this kind of joyride should note his opening caveat: "There will be horror stories. Heavy drinking, drugs, screwing in the dry-goods area, unappetizing industry-wide practices. Talking about why you probably shouldn't order fish on a Monday, why those who favor well-done get the scrapings from the bottom of the barrel, and why seafood frittata is not a wise brunch selection.... But I'm simply not going to deceive anybody about the life as I've seen it." --Sumi Hahn

Having spent a great deal of time between the ages of 15 and 24 in and out of various restaurants from my first waitressing gig at Ponderosa Steakhouse to slinging shots at a college sports bar to serving in an upscale three-star independent joint (where I seriously toyed with the idea of leaving undergrad for the life of a pastry chef), I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It's a great read, even for those who don't know what an expediter or sommelier is, or one who may not be acutely aware of the difference between a CIA-trained chef and what you might find at Outback. Restaurant people, particularly those who choose it as their career work, tend to be an odd bunch, thrown together in hot kitchens, cold walk-ins, and well-stocked bars. I had insane, unchecked fun back then, and I have so many stories from those days, from lighting drink wells on fire for touchdowns scored, to being taught by a Kiwi in London how to draw shapes in the foam of a Guinness coming off tap, to picking up managerial slack from numerous alcoholic GMs, to learning how to pass insults in Spanish in order to gain the respect of the line cooks, to unknowingly sampling sauteed bull testicles with various sauces, and so many more. This book does a fine job of capturing the essence of life behind the kitchen doors in a dirty, sexy and utterly entertaining way.

To Milo. Love, Chuck

Charles sent me this e-card for Milo today! How thoughtful ... in kind of a sick and twisted way! HA!

Birthday dog!

Today, the little monster turns 3!

Death of the pink

Obviously, I've done away with all the pink. I'm not crazy about this template, either, but I couldn't find one this morning that I either liked from Blogger or felt brave enough to mess with just yet from another site. So I've gone with the minimalist look for now. I'm sure I will change it around some more until I find something I am happy with.

No more time to mess with it right now, though. I am off to the law library at Bloomington this morning to take back some materials I picked up last week for work. The condition on being able to remove this stuff from their library was that I hand-deliver it back within one week. Apparently, the IUB library staff does not trust the IU-Indy staff to properly return materials. And we sure wouldn't want 1500 pages of Congressional hearings transcripts on what the drug industry knew about oral contraceptives in 1970 to go missing.

And mileage is up to 37.5 cents. Who knew??

Okay, the pink is getting to me. Me, the girl who just LOOOOOVES pink, thinks this page is a bit too pink. Pink enough to make me want to vomit. It's Barbie-pink. It's Pepto-Bismol pink. It's Pink pink. It's really grating on my nerves today.

So I just HAD to go and mess with the template, right? And then I thought I'd lost all my comments, and I was pissed, and then I was sad, and then they somehow miraculously returned with the cool HaloScan. And now I'm chicken-shit to mess with it again right now. So for the time being, pink it is.

Nearly killed by the Q

Saying I did not get a good night's sleep last night would be the understatement of the year. I could tell you all the gory details of how awful, scary and stressful my dreams were, how I woke up at 2:00am in cold sweats and then spent the next 3 hours being violently ill, or how I currently feel as though my stomach might turn itself inside out at any minute. But I will spare you the details because they are not funny.

Suffice it to say I ate something bad last light. Something bad happened to Amanda. It was not pretty, and unfortunately I am near certain (as only one can be who has gotten so sick from some janky-ass food) it was the salad I ate from my very beloved and most favorite Qdoba.

If I can't stomach Qdoba ever again because of this, I will be one very sad girl.

And in other news...

This one's for Kevvy -

A small lake southeast of Lake Stevens in Everett, Washington has two different names, Bevis and Butthead — almost identical to snickering characters in TV’s "Beavis and Butt-head" show. The Department of Natural Resources calls it Bevis Lake. The U.S. Geological Survey uses that name on its topographic map. But the U.S. Census Bureau calls it Butthead Lake in its records.

Apparently it's not unusual for a lake to have two names. In this case, the lake was originally named "Beaver Lake" *snicker* but was then changed to honor a man named William Beavis. No one knows how or why the change in the spelling of "Beavis" occurred. The spokesperson for the DNR thinks that someone over at the Census Bureau must have gotten bored and made a joke out of naming the lake "Butthead Lake" in the federal record.

As if this isn't funny enough to have a lake named both "Bevis" and "Butthead," two of my comic heroes, there is a Boy Scout camp nearby. They do not call the lake Beavis or Butthead. They call it Lake Brinkly.

Kevin, for purely Karmic reasons, I think you should definitely go to this place!

Librarians put the smack down on Jon Stewart!

Library officials in two southern Mississippi counties have banned Jon Stewart's best-selling "America (The Book)" over the satirical textbook's nude depictions of the nine U.S. Supreme Court justices.

Additionally, Wal-Mart has declined to stock the book because of the page, which features the faces of the nine Supreme Court justices superimposed over naked bodies. The facing page has cutouts of the justices’ robes, complete with a caption asking readers to “restore their dignity by matching each justice with his or her respective robe.”

Hello wackos! This is SATIRE! Perhaps it isn't appropriate material for, say, a middle school library, but to ban it altogether from a public library is just a bunch of First Amendment violation crap! It's ONE page out of a brilliant, witty social and political commentary by a comic genius. I don't know what the Supremes think about it, but it is really quite amusing, as is the rest of the book. If you haven't seen it, go find it somewhere other than Wal-Mart or Mississippi. I promise you will laugh. A lot.

UPDATE: Apparently the librarian smack down has been lifted! Hooray! Kevin is quick on the draw today with this post.

I heart torts

It's amazing how happy a good torts fight makes me. Me against the big bad insurance company!! Okay, the firm and the attorney I'm doing grunt clerk work for against the big bad insurance company!! Either way, tort law appears to be my calling. Or I'm just a big dork that thinks pouring over an insurance policy for ambiguous language so that I can write a killer brief telling you why our clients should recover policy limits is a very satisfying way to spend a Monday morning! See, it makes me so happy.

My best girlfriend from law school works for the dark side, otherwise known as insurance defense. I am currently battling with an Indiana Court of Appeals decision from last month that is not so favorable for me. The case was won by one of the partners at the firm where my friend will work after graduation. This case kicks ass, and the insurance company, via their great attorneys, deserved to win, but it is making my task rather difficult this morning. However, I hope a day comes when my friend and I find ourselves representing opposing sides in a case. I have great respect for her and her ability (she's smarter than I am, but I am way sneaky), and a good adversarial dual between the two of us would be better than any girly catfight!

Spring fever is coming early this year

7 days, 16-some hours, and counting until my last semester of law school begins. Only fellow law students and lawyers can truly appreciate the feelings of thrill and elation at being nearly done with law school hell, juxtaposed with stress and dread over the impending bar review and The Exam that will follow May graduation in very short order.

I am not worrying much about my last semester of classes. At this point in the journey, my GPA will not likely be affected much by either an outstanding or abysmal performance next semester. I have gotten quite good at being just above average, so why rock the boat now? I am, not surprisingly, already suffering from senioritis, lack of motivation, and a touch of apathy toward school as I approach my final 12 credit hours. Throw in some sunny spring weather, and you'll likely find me taking some liberties with the attendance policy and drinking beer on the balcony at the Distillery.

Luckily, I have wisely chosen classes based on:

1) The schedule. I love my clerking job, and if given a choice between attending a boring UCC lecture or making a work deadline early, you aren't going to find me at the school. Maximum working hours are a must, even if I struggle to figure out what the heck the UCC is during bar review.

2) The prof. If he doesn't have an attendance policy, I'm in. If he's an old hippie who makes funny jokes while teaching the First Amendment, I'm in. If he's one of the most well-liked (and best-looking) profs teaching a special course on my very favorite subject of tort law (Environmental and Toxic torts, no less!!), I'm in. We have endured the spectrum of profs over the past 5 semesters. We have tolerated the boring, the demeaning, the angry, the emotional, the scary, the demanding, the "I'm so brilliant I cannot even fathom your average brain," and the outright impossible. At this point, we deserve the good ones.

3) The class. Beer and Nacho Law on Thursday nights with 4 of my friends? I am so there. The aforementioned torts class, which comes complete with an open-book written final nicely attached? I am absolutely going to love that class. No final at all? Oh HELL yeah!

Apathy aside, I think it is pretty decent mix of classes, and overall will likely be a good semester for me. Well, as good as semesters of law school can be, that is.

GO COLTS!

A group of crazy people

This isn't the most clear pic, but we sure had a good time that night!

Dating, dogs, and dating dogs

A couple of things you can count on me to post about: my dog and dating. The first, I will try to keep to a minimum, really. Dating, however, is just too damn funny to not write about from time to time. I certainly don't have hoards of men beating down my door to take me out, but occasionally I manage to get myself into some dating drama. And I am the kind of girl that will make fun of myself just for humor's sake.

I've said that dating sucks, but that really isn't the case. I got divorced last year, and I don't know if you would consider what I've been doing since then dating, necessarily, but I would not. I'll get back out there and date like a normal 30-something once I meet someone who I would consider spending time with after the first date, would not be embarrassed to introduce to my parents or friends, isn't a raging alcoholic, doesn't have massive amounts of emotional baggage, loves his mother, has a decent job, and no mullet. So far, I'm battin' zero, but I have not lost all hope yet.

That said, a few things I wish men of my recent past would keep in mind:

1. If you are dating one of my girlfriends, stop hitting on me.

2. If you are married, stop hitting on me.

3. If I work with you, stop hitting on me. That goes double if you are married.

4. If I give you my phone number after 2 glasses of wine and 2 cosmopolitans simply because my married girlfriend who has a thing for guys that look like Danny Bonaducci thinks it is a good idea, it does not mean that I am going to actually go out with you.

5. If you look like Danny Bonaducci, stop hitting on me.

6. Do not call me at 2am unless it is an extreme emergency. On this rule, I will allow one or two (if I like you) hall passes for drunk dials. It happens. However, if you are not intoxicated, I do not consider your weekly episode of manic depression my emergency.

7. If you have my number for non-dating reasons, do not use it when you are lonely or just got stood up by the girl of your dreams.

8. If you call me more than twice and I have not returned your call, stop calling me. If I was really that into you, I would have called you back. Multiple phone calls only lead me to think you are, in fact, a stalker or desperate, both of which rule you out. This rule does not apply for guys that look like a young Kevin Spacey. I haven't decided if I want to go out with him yet.

9. If we're friends, we are friends. Don't think that just because I am single and like sex that I am going to be your friend with benefits after we have been drinking together.

And finally, 10. I am not stupid. I have the best girlfriends in the world. If you are dating one of them or one of her friends, I will find out.

On WFYI/PBS right now!

Sheryl Crow live on Austin City Limits. She so rocks.

Friends and Bloggers, Squared

Thanks so much for the link, Kelly! You are one of the few people who actually thinks my sick and twisted sense of humor is funny and one of the very few people who can call me "Mandy"!

Thanks, Charles and KeeKee!

WOOOHOOO! Thanks to comments by Charles and KeeKee, I am now in business! And thanks to Chuck for advising me on getting a better comments system via Haloscan. Hopefully it installed correctly and will work fine for visitors. Unfortunately, I think the comments might have been lost in transition. Since they are both trying to study for the bar, I expect they'll be back once in awhile.

Any other suggestions? I am at a loss for how to attach links to blogs I visit on the side of my page, so if someone knows how and wants to send me some instructions...

Wine foul!

A couple of nights ago, I spilled a glass of red wine. Unfortunately, this was no small, incidental spill. A near-full glass of pinot noir on the coffee table went flying, splashing a spray of wine across the cream berber carpet. The velocity of this spill was such that spots of red wine dotted up on the mantle of the fireplace. It was a massive spill. I almost threw up, knowing that the chances of me getting this stain out were slim. I immediately tried to recall all of my wine-removal home remedies, but none came to mind, so I got the spot stain remover and went to work. Unfortunately, my can of stain remover was almost empty. [Side story: The reason why I had so little stain remover is because during final exams, I went on multiple cleaning sprees, one of which involved deodorizing the carpet. I grabbed what I thought was the can of deodorizer and began misting the entire carpet. After spraying about half the house, the fumes hit me and I realized I had the wrong can - I was spraying spot remover everywhere instead of smell-good carpet fresh. Yes, I noticed the spray was a bit off, but I thought maybe the nozzle was clogged or something. This little fiasco resulted in my having to open windows and doors in 20-degree weather and freezing my ass off so that I didn't get high as a kite, or even worse, kill the dog with toxic fumes. Thus, a shortage of stain remover when I really need it.]

I did the best with what I had, but yes - the stain remained. I worked on it the next morning, and left a towel over the top, hoping that the stain would not dry and set in any worse until I could attack it with something more professional. I stopped at my local wine/liquor store last night on the way home, hoping that they might have some miracle rememdy. And, alas, they did have something, and it actually seems to have worked. This morning, the stain is mostly gone, and not likely to be picked out as a big red wine foul. The stuff that did the trick is called GONZO Wine Out. It works for carpet, linens, and most surface and fabrics. It's my new favorite product, but I hope I don't have to use it again anytime soon.

Jackin' around and avoiding snow

Who knew it was going to snow again?! It is fabulously beautiful outside. We got the kind of snow last night that lays like a fluffy blanket of cotton balls across every surface. I put Milo out back at the crack of dawn, and he hopped across the yard like a rabbit, making big puffs of white fluff explode with every leap. He loves it. I'd rather stay inside and continue to avoid going out and shoveling my drive and walk. I noticed my neighbor, who is retired and an owner of some kind of super snowblower, had his drive and walks done by 6:00am. He woke me up as he promptly stopped at the property line and turned back rather than push that sucker 20 more feet across my walkways. Thanks a bunch, neighbor man! Single chic next door with only a shovel here! This is the same dude that watched me struggle with a ladder trying to clean the gutters in the fall, and did not walk across the yard and offer assistance in holding the unsteady ladder. Either he's just a jackass, or my feeble attempts at these novel tasks amuse him greatly. Anyhow, around here, if you don't shovel the walks, dog walkers get pissed. I don't want that. Their dogs are bigger than mine.

So speaking of dogs, I've been jacking around with the blog this morning. I figured out how to add pics, and added the not-so-good one of my favorite little monster. I really wanted to add a very cute "anime me" pic to my profile that Kelly P. did for me and swears by the likeness, but I am at a loss with this tech crap! It's certainly not my forte.

Today is the first Saturday since Thanksgiving that I have not had to study for final exams or fulfill some family holiday obligation. I may stay in my pajamas for quite some time and continue to get all buzzy on mocha.

Milo Monster!

Here's my little monster. He is my most favorite thing in the whole world. And no, I'm not one of those insane people that carries him around in a bag or makes him wear little doggie clothes, but he did get a new Coach collar for Christmas!

Incognito

Well, I mentioned this blog to a friend last night, and I only told him because 1) he doesn't normally read blogs unless he is stalking one of my female friends, and 2) he was likely too intoxicated when I told him to even remotely remember the title. So... it's still incognito.

It seems rather pointless not to share the link here. On the other hand, I don't want to disappoint. For starters, occassionally my intentions are much better than my follow-through. What if I get bored and don't want to post anything after the new-car-smell wears off this thing? It could happen. Or worse, what if my posts are just really quite blah blah blah. Even more likely to happen. I need to spend some time figuring out how to attach pics and links and such. At least then I wouldn't have to rely on my own wit all the time, which would likely be refreshing for any potential readers.

YAY!

The boil water order has been lifted! Apparently the order was precautionary, and the water was not going to kill anyone. This is a good thing since I went forward with my big icey diet coke. I even ate the ice. Yep, I'm a risk-taker.

Thoughts from yesterday...

Sometimes I have serious doubts about my ability to navigate the world all by myself. Sure, I moved to Denver, Colorado all alone after visiting for one week, and I managed not to fall off a mountain, but damn if I didn't get lost more than once trying to get myself to Bloomington yesterday. It's amazing that I am not perpetually wandering around like an idiot since moving to Indy.

What I'm about to say is another indication of what a dork I really am. On my way back from Bloomington (which took over an hour by my directions), I listened to the Senate hearings for Attorney General nominee Alberto Gonzales. I caught the Dems playing kickball with him, and having a damn fine time doing it. They were absolutely brutal! In typical attorney fashion, however, Judge Gonzales did a fabulous job at evading even the most pointed questions. I learned that there are even more ways to answer a clear yes/no question than I ever thought possible. I was disappointed in his evasive responses to death penalty issues, torture issues, and marriage issues, but this guy has got to be better than that creepy Ashcroft. And, as a side note, Judge Gonzales has a very nice speaking voice on the radio. Perhaps if the attorney gig doesn't work out, someone will suggest he narrate some books on tape. I could listen to that lilting southern twang while I'm driving around lost.

Brown boots and the plague

I left the house this morning in relative darkness, pulling on my favorite black boots next to the basement steps where I usually leave my shoes at the end of the day. As I walked from the dark parking lot into the bright lights of my office building, I looked down at my feet. Well, damn. Apparently, I pulled on my favorite brown boots, which are exactly like my favorite black boots. I'm wearing black pants and a hot pink sweater. I think the hot pink/chocolate brown color combo is vogue right now, but I do not think this outfit comes even close to being vogue.

To make matters worse, before heading up to my office, I went to the basement cafeteria to get a big, icey fountain diet coke. Well, apparently Indianapolis is under some kind of boil water advisory today, and the cafeteria isn't serving ice or fountain coke OR coffee! Damn again! So I buy a bottled diet coke, head upstairs, and hit our office ice machine. There's a note on the door - DO NOT USE THIS ICE!!. This is just way too inconvenient for me today. Do you think that if I dig ice out from the bottom of the machine, I'll be safe from whatever parasitic nasties may be infiltrating the water supply around here? I really, really want an icey diet coke. More so, even, than I want to change my boots.

It's a girl!

Well, here I am... the birth of my very own blog, having been inspired by those who have have gone before me with their own fabulously witty, smart, informative, and humorous blogs on which I cooment, occasionally post and resist (for the most part!) the temptation to have a forum to speak my own mind from time to time.

I am setting this thing up with no concrete intentions. Maybe it will serve as a place to vent the daily adventures and frustrations in the life of a 30-something. Maybe it will be nothing but a boring, self-involved diary that amuses my mom during her days at work. At any rate, I make no promises. We'll see where it goes...

Yep. I got myself a blog of my own. :)