Why you gotta always be up in my grill?

Because I have nothing better to do...

The times, they are a-changin'

When I was in college, the first warm and sunny days of spring brought about an annual tradition: skip afternoon classes, buy cheap beer, sit on someone's front porch (preferably one in the "Village"), listen to music (Grateful Dead, Pearl Jam, The Eagles, Jimmy Buffett, Nirvana, The Why Store) and hang out. Sometimes we'd kick around a hacky sack or throw a frisbee in the front yard. But mostly, we'd just sit and drink and smoke and waste the afternoon away.

I loved those times of carefree, debt-free, responsibility-free bliss. Today, I wanted to find some friends and a front porch, and I even would have sprung for some beer, though maybe not the cheap stuff we used to drink. Today was the first day of warm and sunny spring, and it made me happy.

Of course, these days I've substituted the front porch for the office. I think I need to start some new traditions, or maybe just touch base with the old ones.

Not quite what I had in mind

Overheard in a voicemail* tonight:

"Yeah, Amanda, call me back. I want to know what you've been doing this week. I want to hear your inner-most thoughts. Basically, I want you to regurgitate your diary to me."

Regurgitate my diary? I don't think so.

* from my sick and twisted friend/ex-boyfriend, Robert.

Overheard at lunch

"I had no idea marriage would be such a tremendous invasion of my privacy."

I won't be ignored, Dan!

This morning's most obscure reference:

The e-mail exchange:
Amanda: Mike, I need that affidavit. Can you send it to me, please?
Mike: Hey - what's the soup du jour downstairs? Or do you want to go to Bazbeaux's?
Amanda: I don't know about the soup. I need that affidavit before lunch. Send it now, please.
Mike: Let's go to Bazbeaux's.
Amanda: You're going nowhere until I get that affidavit.
Mike: Laura's in on Bazbeaux's. She likes to reek like pesto all day, too.
Amanda: WTF? Stop ignoring me and send me the damn affidavit!
Mike: Who are you, Alex Forrest?

Smells like toxic waste

You know that funny chemical smell that dry cleaning leaves on your clothes?

Yeah, I hate it.

Cowboy up!

My sister had a date last night. She called me today and said that she knew that it was going to be a good date when he pulled into the driveway of her farm driving a black dooley F-350 diesel 3/4 ton pick-up truck with running lights.

What is that?! I had to spell-check "diesel" to write this post.

I can't relate, really, but whatever floats her boat.

Come Monday, it'll be alright...

Today's accomplishments:
* Returned e-mails and voicemails for partners on Spring Break vacations. Wished I was on the beach.
* Conducted medical research into the potential long-term effects of skull fractures (without inter-cranial injury) in infants. Wished I was on the beach.
* Finished a settlement demand letter for partner on Spring Break. Wished I was on the beach.
* Sent congratulatory sentiments to friends who just won a major verdict for damages and bad faith against an insurance company. Wished I was on the beach.
* Completed discovery requests. Wished I was on the beach.
* Had an impromptu, stressful meeting on products liability. Wished I was on the beach.
* Booked my first real vacation in six years to the beaches of Grand Cayman for November, 2006 with my girlfriends. I'm going to the beach.

Tomorrow's agenda:
* Figure out how to pay for Grand Cayman vacation. Wishing I was on the beach.

No matter how hard you try, you will never be Target

Wal-Mart is trying to reach a new demographic by opening a store in Texas that offers more up-scale items such as high-end electronics, fine jewelry, $500 bottles of wine, and a sushi bar. Other changes in the new store include new uniforms for employees (khakis and polos instead of the blue smock), hardwood floors and wide aisles, free wireless internet service from the espresso bar instead of the McDonald's, and section devoted to yoga.

My thoughts: There are some good things about Wal-Mart, and I shop there for the low prices on groceries and other products. They could improve their stores nation-wide by simply keeping them more neat and clean and not cramming so much crappy merchandise into one tiny aisle. But adding these uppity items doesn't make sense to me. The Wal-Mart business plan seems to have worked just fine so far, so why Wal-Mart is trying to get all snooty is beyond me. I would rather they simply improve on what they are already good at - low prices on everyday products.

I can assure you that if I was going to buy a $500 bottle of wine, take a yoga class or go for sushi, I wouldn't be doing it at Wal-Mart.

An afternoon at the valet

Yesterday afternoon, I opted to valet park my car at the Keystone Mall. Usually, I don't like to valet park the car for a few reasons. First of all, my car once came back with a large scratch I'm certain came from the valet. And another time, I got home only to find someone else's keys had fallen from the valet's pocket into the black hole between the driver's seat and the door. I returned the keys to the hotel where I'd been staying, but not before some poor soul couldn't retrieve his vehicle because his keys had been lost in someone else's car.

So when given the choice, I park and walk. I admit I'm a little neurotic about my car. I love this vehicle, and I don't want anyone scratching it, or worse, losing my keys. But yesterday afternoon, we were running late and the parking lot was a mess of traffic.

When I took the ticket from the valet, I relayed the key story to the young man about to get in my car. He assured me that he wouldn't lose my keys. Then, I pointed out to him that I have a very specific starter. The key fob itself simply pushes into the dashboard, so there really is no "key." He assured me that he understood how to start the car.

I apologized for being high-maintenance about my car. The valet told me that I was not the worst he'd seen. And then he said, "Usually the high-maintenance drivers are men, and they drive much more expensive cars than yours."

Pink is the new black

You need to have a certain sense of style to pull off this rasberry sorbet faux fur jacket with silk leopard print lining. Most people, myself included, would look like a walking puff of cotton candy. But AJ looked adorable in this coat yesterday afternoon.

Gettin' lucky, gettin' sued

This morning's blizzard conditions cost me two hours in rush hour traffic. I made it to a 9am hearing at the City-County building with seconds to spare. The judge had not taken the bench yet, and I had time to double-check the court's file and make sure the defendant had, in fact, been served. And he had. However, he was a no-show. When I went in front of the judge, the conversation went something like this:

Me: "Your honor, the defendant received copy service. He's not here. I'd like to request a bench warrant."
Judge: "I'm not going to issue a bench warrant on copy service."
Me: "I understand, your honor, but I made it here through the snow, and you made it here. Defendant works in the construction industry, likely drives a truck, and I am sure he could have made it here if he had tried hard enough."
Judge: "Good point. But still no warrant."
__________________________________________________

Word about my affinity for the color pink has apparently gotten around the office. Our office administrator recently gave me the greatest Uniball hot pink fusion ink pens. He'd gotten a few of these pink pens from a conference he'd attended, and he heard through the grapevine that I would probably like to have them. Very thoughtful of him, and I have since become somewhat attached to the pink pen. I highlight my desk calendar in pink, write most of my post-its in pink, take notes in pink, mark up cases in pink.

I was signing some pleadings earlier, and I really wanted to sign them in pink. I didn't, but I'm not sure I'll always be able to resist the temptation.
__________________________________________________

And this one's for Kelly P., to whom I emphatically told last week that I could imagine no circumstances where I would ever be discussing "roadhead" with one of the partners here. However, today in conversation with a partner discussing upcoming depositions:

Me: "I would like to know what the defendant and his wife were doing in the vehicle just before impact that they somehow did not see our plaintiffs clearly walking across the street. It's not like our clients darted out between cars. They were in a crosswalk. Maybe the defendant was arguing with his wife. Or maybe something else was going on in the truck."
Partner: "Yeah, what do you think, Amanda? The defendant was getting lucky?"
Me: "Yep, roadhead."
Partner: "Make sure you cover that in Friday's deposition of the defendant and his wife, but ask the husband about it first."

She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain

The most raucous St. Patty's parade is traveling down the street 14 floors below my window at this very moment. Every time I hear a marching band, I have to get up from my desk and check them out. I love a good cadence. The view from up here is amazing, and it's a beautiful sunny (but cold) day. A sea of green-clad parade-watchers and partiers have lined the sidewalks, beads and candy are flying through the air, and I'm sure there's plenty of green beer going around.

One of the bands just played Ricky Martin's "Livin' La Vida Loca." Not very Irish, but a song that makes me want to get my schwerve on and dance nonetheless. Three more hours of productivity, and I am so outta here...

An Irishman is never drunk as long as

He can hold onto one blade of grass and not

Fall off the face of the earth.

May your blessings outnumber

The shamrocks that grow,

And may trouble avoid you

Wherever you go.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Thursday Toast

Here's to the lovely Mandolin - may she bill enough hours today so that she can drink green beer tomorrow, may Ticketmaster rot in Hell, and may the Threesome Protest become an annual tradition. Hot pocket.

If the government really wanted to track down Osama Bin Laden, they would give his name to Sallie Mae

I despise Sallie Mae with every fiber of my being and then some.

Other than that, it's been a very good day with lots of happy thoughts.

The sweetest thing

As it turned out, today was not so lucky. For the most part, it sucked rocks. But after the stress and drama of the day, I walked into my bedroom tonight and saw the little monster sleeping like a baby. And at that moment, I felt lucky again.

Liquid crack

I made a calculated risk this morning in trying to beat the downpour of rain to my office, knowing that I didn't have an umbrella in my car. If I stopped at Starbucks, I could be screwed and get caught in the storm. On the other hand, if I didn't stop at Starbucks, I would spend the better part of the morning wishing I would have. I didn't sleep well last night, and I'm dragging this morning. I could use a little help on this Monday.

So being the risk-taker that I am, I pulled into line at the Starbucks. I got my latte (iced with an extra shot of expresso) and started back on Fall Creek to work. And of course, as luck would have it, the rain started falling in big fat splatters on my windshield. Great. Well, I'm having a horrible hair day anyway - the rain can't really make it much worse. And at least I have my latte.

As I drove like a maniac down Pennsylvania, the clouds broke just a little and the rain stopped. I pulled into the parking lot and got myself into my office before the rain started again.

My lucky day.

Scratch my back with a lightning bolt
Thunder rolls like a bass drum note
The sound of the weather is Heaven's ragtime band...

The rain is pouring down outside, pelting sideways against my windows with the howling wind. There is a spring thunderstorm blowing with verocity outside. I am sitting here at the computer, taking in the smell of raindrops mixed with asphalt and new dirt from recent landscaping. My patio door is open slightly, and I just got Milo settled down for the night after his customary evening game of pulling socks from my feet like a child with a new toy. So much for talking on the phone or returning e-mails...

I attended an all-day CLE (continuing legal education) course on "Applied Professionalism" today. The speakers were good, and their materials excellent. These required courses are exhausting (boring?) to sit through, but the words of wisdom imparted from seasoned attorneys are usually invaluable lessons. I have a thing about "being in the presence of greatness." And the 'greatness' need only encompass those who have practiced law for so many years beyond me. At this point in my career, I cannot help but be in awe of the experienced lawyers who have mastered any small part of this profession. Yet, this afternoon I found myself losing focus after five hours of lecture. You'll have that.

What I learned today seems to be, on its face, basic, but yet apparently still needs to be taught to new attorneys. It is "What I learned in kindergarten..." at its finest as it relates to the practice of law.

* Play well with others
* Be on time
* Don't cheat, lie or steal
* Don't sleep with your clients
* Meet your deadlines
* Respect the Court (and their staff)
* Ask for advice and assistance from those in-the-know
* If you screw up, admit it and deal appropriately with the ramifications
* Be nice
* Keep your things neat and organized

These well-taken points go along with and mirror my some of my own words of wisdom, which include:

* Know and love the office staff, paralegals, and assistants. They are invaluable. They can save your ass if they like you or sink you if you suck, and they will do both. The staff are the eyes and ears of any firm. If you treat them like crap, you deserve every bit of the wrath that they can and will bring upon you.
* Don't get drunk at firm social gatherings, even if Mimosas are being served in the breakroom at 10:00am prior to the holiday party.
* Know who you're talking to. Don't get too "personal" with other attorneys, be it associate or partner. Telling a partner that you smoked the bong at Lollapalooza in college may seem like a good story over a Crown-and-diet at the office party, but the historical perspective is probably not going to score you points on your associate review.
* Be on time - getting into the office later than usual is our occassional luxury. But damn - if you are late to a pre-scheduled meeting or hearing, you suck. This drives me batty. Don't do it.
* Don't brag about how many hours you billed last month, how much your bonus is going to be, or how much face-time you have at the office. No one cares, and they probably don't believe you, either.
* Own up to your own mistakes as soon as you realize that you've screwed something up.
* Never throw anyone else under the bus for your responsibilities. If you screw up a project, own it. If you delegated part of the project to someone else, don't pass the buck. It was your responsibility. Suck it up, admit it, and deal with it. Never make excuses or blame someone else for what you are ultimately responsible for.

My two cents, from the mouth of a new associate with a dog who wants to pull my socks off.

Havana Daydreamin'...

PARTY AT THE END OF THE WORLD 2006

There are no words to express the pure joy I feel when the Jimmy Buffett tour dates are finally announced each spring. Tuesday, August 8, 2006 - 4 months, 29 days, 5 hours until the happiest day of the year!

I love all things pink and sparkly, but...

From, where else, Overheard in New York:

Real Bunny Eyes Dissolve, Too

Girl #1: We did this experiment with Peeps in high school. Nothing dissolved them. Not hydrochloric acid. Highly concentrated. Not sulfuric acid. Highly concentrated. Not nitric acid. Highly concentrated. Nothing dissolved except the eyes.

Girl #2: So how come when I eat Peeps, my poop isn't pink and sparkly?

Girl #1: Oh, there's ingredient breakdown and bile's involved, but you pretty much shit Peep.

--Metro-North train

This may be the end of my love affair with Peeps. Leave it to high school girls to ruin it for me.

What's your motive?

A woman goes to her mother's funeral. There, she meets a man. Then and there, she falls in love with him and wants to spend the rest of her life with him. Unfortunately, she did not get his name or number.

A week later, she kills her sister.

What's her motive for killing her sister?

* Question compliments of Kelly P and her twisted, but apparently normal, mind.

We're having a pajama party. Who's comin' with me?

I can't seem to compose a decent post lately, so don't go expecting one tonight. That said, I'm sitting here at my computer in pajamas with my birthday afghan wrapped around me like a little old woman, drinking a lovely pinot noir, listening to James Blunt again and contemplating downloading something a little less... well, James Blunt. It's a very subdued Friday night around here, folks. Even Milo is curled up on the top of the couch, worn out from a stroll around the lake and having long ago given up on barking at the neighbor's dogs.

There were some things I intended to blog about this week, including some items of substance (if you still believe that I might blog about items of substance, God bless you because at the rate I'm blogging, it may never happen again), like President Bush's warnings of the impending destruction of the Gulf coast prior to Katrina and the recent SCOTUS decision to tackle late-term abortion.

But it has been a long week. No late nights partying like a rock star, but a long week nonetheless. The Powers That Be at the firm are off on the partners' retreat, and that seems to have everyone a bit on edge, including me. The thought that at some point they will all sit in a circle, and rather than holding hands and singing Kum-Bah-Yah, they will be discussing the personal and professional attributes of the newest associates. It is seriously a bit unnerving, which is why I took a two-hour lunch today and went shopping.

So, onto the more fluffy moments of my week because, of course, they are much more fun:

* I was on hold yesterday with a Texas firm. The hold music was not muzac but rather actual tunes as they were originally recorded. As I sat there on speaker phone, Lionel Richie/Diana Ross's "Endless Love" came on. Ugh. I immediately sent an e-mail to Kelly, telling her I was somewhere between puking and crying listening to that song while waiting on hold. I haven't heard that song in years. Her quick response received just prior to pick-up: "Puking is empowering. You are a puker, Manda, not a crier." I love her.

* Not only is "cooter" back in vogue, but it is is competing with "va-j-j," which makes me laugh every time I hear it uttered from the lip-glossed mouths of my silly girlfriends.

* Apparently men in their 50's are having more satisfying sex than those in their 30's. Who knew.

* Two people I knew well passed away this week. Three people I know well had birthdays.

* A very sweet-faced young guy carded me the other day and infomed me that my driver's license was expired. I hadn't realized, and he said, "Well, it expires every four years. I guess that's easy to lose track of after you're a few years past 21." As if he'd know.

* If you are a seventeen-year-old male, do not hide your condoms in the potpourri dish your mother has placed in your bathroom. If you are the parents of said seventeen-year-old, don't drink so much that you tell me all about finding the stash and then expect me not to laugh about it. I don't have kids.

* Most hilarious article ever sent my way just this morning about people who put sweaters on their dogs. If you love dogs, or hate little dogs and the crazy people that love them, go there and laugh your ass off. Best line from the mind of the little sweatered dog: "Do you honestly think that I prefer couscous and tofu over my lamb and beef nuggets?Lettuce wraps? Are you fucking serious… what is your damage?" For the record, I do not put sweaters on my dog. If I did, he would tear a hole in my windpipe. I swear to God he would.

* Foghat has a their very own website. I never thought to visit the site (notwithstanding my affinity for Monster Ballads) until Kelly P. expressed such great interst in the word "foghat." Kel also turned me onto showchoir.com website this week. The things you learn from those around you.

* And speaking of learning from those around you, it is always good to have a brilliant judge well versed in professional responsibility and ethics to call upon when needed. I appreciate it.

* I do not keep up on American Idol, but I have been watching MTV's "There and Back," and I will buy Ashley Parker Angel's CD when/if it ever comes out. I like the music. Really.

That's all I got tonight. What's your damage?