Last Law School Class

Soon this blog will be filled with endless posts of horror stories as I study for the bar, and excerpts of days which will be filled with crying, night sweats, and shots of vodka at 2 in the afternoon. But today it will be filled with the sad yet happy tale of completing my last law school class EVER. It is 11:30 p.m. which is a normal hour for me to be traveling home on a school night. I have spent the last 3 1/2 years for 4 days a week between 6:00 pm - 10:15 pm sitting in class listening to lectures, sometimes a break here or there to get bad coffee. I have searched many Internet sites, and put up with terrible (the nun) and wonderful professors (the nun). I have hated and loved my class mates, and also spent endless hours typing notes, outlines, and studying for finals for 2 weeks straight. I have lost sleep, gained weight, lost weight, eaten tons of junk food, starved, drank lots of coffee, showered, not showered, wore sweatpants for 10 days. The point is for those that have attended law school (especially the evening students) you all know what it is like to work a 40 hour work and sit in class for 16 hours, making an average week 70 to 80 hours if you include homework and finals. And even if you didn't work...Any law student can relate to hating their life, thinking of dropping out at least 10 times a day, hating finals, hating school, did I mention hating life. So what does this all get me? Well besides that I found my very first grey hair this year, and the fact that the idea of law school gives me a migraine. I now sit here after my last law school class and I am drinking a $10.00 bottle of champagne alone in my pajamas eating baked Cheetos while sitting in front of the TV watching Will and Grace. This is what law school has done to me. Somehow, as sad as that scene may sound it is the best feeling in the world. And I look forward to where I will be in 11 days when I have completed my last law school final. I expect I will be drinking a $20.00 bottle of champagne and probably still eating Cheetos in my pajamas watching Will and Grace, but at least I know in my heart that I accomplished 1 step of what is to come. There is still the bar exam, and then passing the bar, and then walking down the aisle for graduation, then getting sworn into the bar, and then the day when I sign Esq. for the very first time. There is still a lot more to overcome and a lot more to look forward to. I know one of my best friends has been down this path, and I still brag about how proud I am of her (yes you!), and I just hope someone will feel the same for me in 6 months. Because sh*t it is anticlimactic!

Thanskgiving Recap

So I spent 4 days eating tofurkey, drinking wine, and watching bad movies. For me this is the best way to celebrate thanksgiving at the in-laws. There was a visit to Vermont and some antique window shopping. Not to mention plenty of intense democratic rhetoric and republican bashing (thank god my dad is not here). Either way I managed to buy bitsandgiggles a gift from "out of town", and I ate lots of pie. Speaking of pie, I managed to pull off my very first cheesecake. And not just any cheesecake, but maple syrup WW approved cheesecake. It was a hit, or so everyone said it was in order to make me feel better. The pie also managed to get me into an argument with the Midwestern, because for some reason I felt that he rather drink beer with his friends then keep up with tradition and bake pie. I must have had way too much estrogen pumping through me that night, because normally I would jump at the opportunity to run around the house naked with a bottle of prosecco baking pie. Either way, that was the sum of the long weekend, and some how I squeezed in 2 hours of criminal procedure and played bongo drums (don't ask).

Thanksgiving

Considering I have had some pre-bar blues, I figured what better time for Thanksgiving. The one holiday when you reflect on all the things good in life and 4 days of eating and drinking. So here it goes: (in no particular order)
1) I am thankful for my mom and dad, they are always there for me and they have been my rock through everything good and bad. I love you guys!
2) I am thankful for my bro, even though I see you only when you do not have band practice, I have to beg you to go to college, and you rather spend your money on guitars than school tuition...I still love you. Your a good kid brother and please don't ever change.
3) I am thankful for the rest of my family (especially you grandmama!) you all love me very much and I am grateful for that.
4) I am thankful for my friends, there have been some which are no longer around and I am happy I have weeded out you guys. The friends that have stuck it out are true friends and I thank you for being wonderful.
5) I am thankful for bitsandgiggles, yes you get your own shout out! Thank you for being there for law school, a wedding, and now the bar exam. You are wonderful and I am lucky to have you around. Who else loves fine dining and being cynical more than we?
6) I am thankful for the midwestern, you have survived the 100 hour work weeks with me while seeing me at my worst: when I am hungry, tired, and with no make up. You have stuck it out through the terrible 3 years of law school, many travels around the world, my dog, living with me, dealing with my obsessive personality, my stilleto tastes compared to your granola lifestyle. You haven't smothered me with a pillow while I am sleeping yet, and you actually married this high maintenance woman. Kudos to you! And if you survive being my husband while I am studying for the bar, you have a free pass to heaven. Good luck!
7) I am thankful for my dog, you are always happy to see me when I come home, you never answer me back, you give me lots of kisses, and you keep me warm at night. You kept me company when it was just the two of us, and you are a loyal friend. Never leave me, and please stop barking in my ear. Love you!
8) I am thankful for my job, even with the new girl. Without you job, I would not be able to afford the nights out at Bouley or any other michelin star restaurant. So what if I can't pay the cable or the electricity with the salary you give me- those things are over rated.
9) I am thankful for the coffee cart guy, even when the weather is crummy you always make me smile because. You are always happy even though you have to sit in that cold cart all morning dealing with slimy stock brokers. You know exactly how I like my coffee and you always ask me how I am. Thank you.
10) I am thankful for you martini glass, you are the one who holds the one thing that makes a crappy day into a nice day. I don't know what I would do without you. (I will see you at 5pm)

It could be worse

Thanksgiving is around the corner, and so are finals and so is the bar exam and so is the last day of work as a paralegal (hopefully). My patience has run thin these past few days. Yesterday, I spent the day thinking about how to booby trap the door to my office to prevent the new girl from coming in. Then I snapped again today when she emailed me for the 200,000th time. I am sick and tired! I am tired of everything. I am tired of making copies, dealing with stupidity, studying for exams, the Socratic method, making small talk, the man in dunkin donuts who talks too loud on his cell phone, the stupid law student who let his friend cut the entire line at the cafeteria, the fact that there is nothing to eat at home but week old cheese, running out of veggie bacon, burning veggie bacon, the fact that cable sucks all the time, the fact that I pay $140 a month for cable to suck all the time, telemarketers, closet doors, the fact that I have no closet doors. I am just tired. I am counting the minutes until tomorrow when I get to leave work and enjoy a 4 day weekend and eat tofurkey with a bottle of red wine. I will not think of bar applications, or law school exams (okay I lied yes I will). But I will not dwell on how to prevent the snack shack guy from leaving, or how to make the new girl leave. I keep telling myself I am just in a slump, and it will all get better. Then I remind myself that "No instead it will get worse". Instead, I will break out into tears while doing practice questions, or run into the bathroom during Bar/bri class because I am confused about the law of perpetuities, or speed dial bitsandgiggles for some sanity after the simulated MBE. Oh, I have so much to look forward to.

New Girl

Dear New Girl at my job:
1) Stop wasting my time and asking me for my work. If you have nothing to do, not my problem. Stop trying to steal my billables.
2) Stop kissing a*s, it is not becoming of you.
3) Do not talk to me when I am eating lunch. If I have noodles hanging out of my mouth it is usually a tell tale sign I am busy.
4) I know you think we are friends, but you are mistaken.
5) Stop asking me how I am or how is school, because let's be honest you don't give a shit and neither do I.
6) Do not call me or email me or stop by my office 3 times in one day or I will have to suffocate you with your own turtleneck.
7) Do not poke around my office when I am not there, or I will have to chop off your fingers.
8) Stop acting like you have enough work to keep you there until 7 pm, we all know you are really surfing the net.
9) Stop coming in before 9 am. Our work day starts at 9:30 a.m., you are making everyone else look bad.
10) I would prefer if you don't acknowledge me at all it would just make the world a better place.

Thank you Train Lady

So I walked out of the MPRE, and for those that have no clue what that is. It is the Ethics exam the Bar requires you take in order to get admitted to practice. So in other words, I could pass all excruciating 21 hours of the Bar exams in 2 states but without this damn 2 hour and 5 min test I can't practice (what the hell is the 5 min for anyway to tear up the exam in case you have a nervous breakdown?) Anyway, I was getting on the train in Tribeca passing all these places I love Centrico, Landmarc and knowing it is way too early to eat but never too early to have a drink. I knew if I was taking the MPRE with bitsandgiggles we would totally hit up the Bubble Lounge and grab a $16 glass of champagne. Because she knows how we like to do it up right. Okay back to the story. Getting on the train, I see this lady with her 2 kids. I immediately begin to worry that they are going to sit next to me, because we all know how much I love anybody younger than 18. So of course the family comes and sits down next to me. Just my luck I thought. "Are you studying for the bar?" I look up...the mother is speaking to me. I nod "Yes I am". Her daughter (in a very fashionable petticoat) asks "Mommy what is the bar?" I want to chime in "the bane of my existence". But instead the mother answers "Well honey it is a very hard test, which takes a lot of studying and it is very important. Mommy and Daddy took it together and we locked ourselves in the apartment for 6 weeks and even fought a lot but it was worth it." A smile slowly comes to my face, what a cute story damn I wish the Midwestern was in law school doing this with me. The little girl made this face which looked like she just drank sour milk and she said "Ooh does it have math? That sounds bad". (Yeah math does suck. Right on sister!). The mother turns to me and then asks "Are you studying for Feb exam?" I respond "Yes". She then smiles this comforting and warm smile (one that a mother would give to her child) and says "Good luck". I don't know if it was because I hated my multi grain bagel because they put raisins in it (if I wanted a raisin bagel I would have ordered one), or the over abundance of emotion for finishing this damn MPRE, or the fact that I only had 5 hours of sleep. Whatever it is I was touched. I never felt so good to be sitting next to a mother with 2 kids. As I got up to get off on my stop, I looked at her and said goodbye, and she looked at me again and said again "Good luck" and the little little girl smiled this big smile at me. And at that moment, for reasons I can't explain, but I just knew it was all going to be okay.

Waiting on line at the Guggenheim

Okay that was my cheezy attempt at a rhyme. Last night was another successful First Friday. I had to run the dinner alone, which for some reason made me nervous since there might be people there who knew bitsandgiggles but not me. Thoughts ran through my head on how I would come up with witty comments the way she does in hopes of not having an awkward silence. But in the end, dinner was fine. I ate a whole lot of raw fish for $25.00 and PETA I am sure would not be too happy with me. I am wondering if I contribute that much this month do I get a free pass? Anyway, after dinner we ran over to the Guggenheim which as a New Yorker I was ashamed I had never been. But then again how many people knew there was a Jewish Museum on 92nd street. If your Jewish you don't count on knowing that. I now know because I walked the wrong way, but that is besides the point. Once I figured out the difference between north and south on 5th avenue. We waited on line with a whole lot of people to get in. The 2 people in front of somehow reproduced into 6 people when boy George with the ugly houndstooth scarf brought all his yuppie friends with valley girl accents. Which brings me to the diverse crowd at the museum. The crowd was a mix of Williamsburg hipster with rich Upper East Side kids dressed to the nines and then the of course overlap of gossip girl followers. Trust me I was not judging, I was actually feeling a little under dressed. But after fighting for a glass of wine (served in plastic which took away some of the elitist quality to the event) I was convinced the Guggenheim on First Friday was the place to see and be seen. At any moment, I felt like someone was going to run up to me and ask me if I saw what Serena was wearing, but my luck it did not happen. Aside from the dead Pinocchio in the pool (which made me a little teary eyed), the place was quite fun. I did have to visually block out the image of the woman with needles stuck in her skin and pervert carved on her chest with a baby sucking her saggy breasts for most of the night. Just the thought of it now makes me glad I don't do drugs (and that I have perky boobs). Is it too late to marry a gay plastic surgeon?

Obama Baby

To all those that think the only reason Obama won was because every republican stayed home and did not vote yesterday. The truth is all the republicans DID vote but they voted Obama Baby!
Palin what are you going to do now? I hear Russia needs a new president.

I am singing this until Tuesday

And it is only 10:00 a.m.

You know the day can only get better when you start the morning with a sentence that includes both the words "black" and "big" to an attorney at your firm. Then I somehow managed to spend 10 minutes crazy glueing (is that even a word?) my burberry glasses together (times are tough), and then another 20 minutes trying to rip my fingers off because they were krazy glued to the glasses, and then another 30 minutes cleaning the glue off my finger tips. Really the day can only get better from here.

Not before Coffee Please

The new associate at my firm came into my office today (Note: before my morning coffee) and started asking me a range of questions and talking a million miles a minute. I don't know about anyone else, but before my morning coffee it is way too early for you to come in and babble aimlessly because I will probably hear only 1/2 of what you are saying. Not to mention, GET TO THE POINT! So, I stop her mid sentence and say "Huh, okay I am not sure what you are asking. What do you need to know?" (In other words if you do not leave quickly I might throw a binder at you) She then went on to show me a document that was marked up by my partner. She turns to me and states "I do not know why I am working on this document, I thought this was sent to court already." Again confused as to why I should care what document she is working on, and also confused as to why she is questioning a document that was given to her by my partner. If the partner at my firm gave me her grocery list, shit who am I to question why she is buying whole milk instead of soy? Nevertheless, let's continue....Again she rambled for about 10 minutes, at this point the lack of caffeine is giving me a headache so I stop her again. I then say "Okay let me check the case file and see what we find". I pull the case file and can not locate this mysterious document that she claims exists. Instead of saying "It's okay I hear voices too" I tell her "Okay looks like it is not here, so just do as told (slave) and process the document in your hand." She then excitingly points to a stack of paper clipped documents and says "There it is!" Happy that maybe now she will leave my office so that I can go inject some espresso in my veins, I grab the paper she pointed at and look at it. It is a document that is all marked up with red ink from my partner (hmm, looks a lot like what she is holding in her hand). I look at her with this strange dazed look (Did you eat paint as a child?) "A, you realize this is just work product..This does not tell me whether the court received it." She looks at me confused and says "But I thought....(she thinks??) 10 minutes pass, and still me minus coffee. She walks into my office again. I pick up the stapler, she is going down. She exclaims "Oh, I forgot that I asked the secretary to send it" (F**k the coffee, now I need a shot of whiskey to help me understand how you graduated law school). "A, glad that all worked out, have a nice day"

Why I hate Law School

Jerk Law Student: Are YOU in THIS class???
Me: Yes. (What the f&ck you never noticed the hispanic girl with wild curly hair behind you, or were you too busy surfing the net for porn?)
Jerk Law Student: Really, because I never knew you were in this class.
Me: Yes, I have always been in this class (Well now you know AS&H*LE!!)
Jerk Law Student: Really? Because I have never seen you or um..noticed, I always thought this class was an all male class.
Me: I don't know why you would think that? (Now the whole class is staring at me - Thanks Jerkoff!! I am about to punch you in the balls if you don't stop saying how you NEVER see me and NEVER knew I existed)
Jerk Law Student: I mean no offense, I just haven't seen you. I don't know why I didn't know you were in this class.
Me: Hmm, maybe because I was out last week. (Maybe because you have half a brain and I am not sure how you got accepted into law school maybe you lied on your LSAT essay and said you were saved from a sex camp in Romania and since you spent most of your life being someone's bitch you decided to be a lawyer so you can fight justice)
Jerk Law Student: Maybe? I mean no offense...Really
Me: No, dont' worry (Don't worry I will not kill you right now, but maybe when your not looking I might stick something sharp in your leg when you walk by me - watch your back punk!)

Intellicrib

I have decided I am ordering one for when I have a kid, because if I can not hire Maria and ship her down illegally and pay her below minimum wage then I need a back up plan.

Shark Week

I have come to the conclusion real estate brokers are the devil's spawn. I do not want to offend anyone who might actually have a soul in their body and is in this profession, but I truly believe they ask you to leave your morals at the door when you are hired. The midwestern and I have a secret vice and visit open houses on Sundays after brunch. I think we partly do it because we like to see how the other side lives, and the other part of me somehow really wants to believe I should have been rich and the stork just made a mistake dropping me off in Queens. Either way, I have come to meet a lot of these sharks and I have grown to dislike them more and more. They will convince you to sell your dog or pimp him out if they thought it would get them a commission.

Can't Touch This

Yesterday, I rode the bus to New Jersey. I have not been on a bus since the First Friday of our First Fridays. That was not as scary as this. It was a bus to Ridgewood which I do not know a lot about except that apparently it is a town of alcoholics. I sat down in an empty aisle seat and this blond woman in her 50's with a skirt and a suit jacket looks at me and yells "Don't Touch Me". I lift my left eyebrow with this look of both confusion and dismay. I then say in a very Queens voice "Excuse me??" I was thinking that perhaps the lady had turrets syndrome so I wanted to give her another chance to speak again. She looks at me with this glazed look and said "It's okay, it's fine." Now my face has this deer caught in headlights look, did she just excuse me as if I was apologizing. For some strange morbid reason, I decided to stay in my seat. That was until she started staring at me. I ignored her, and proceeded to text madly to the midwestern to say my farewell because I was not going down without a fight and I was afraid I would be locked up with a butch woman in Bergen county Jail. All of a sudden I saw her head sway and slump over on the window, she was either going to throw up (or so it seemed) or die in her chair. I got up and moved my seat within 2 minutes she was passed out making funny faces at another passenger. I was safe now, but not without some inner scars. I have decided that either I need to find out where this woman goes to happy hour and slap the bartender silly for not cutting her off, or just never ride the bus again. I do not want to say that this is what happens in the burbs but it makes me happy that at least on the Path platform no one would notice me passed out on the platform snuggled amongst 100 other drunks .

BUTLER/HOUSEHOLD MANAGER NEEDED ASAP $85K-$12OK DOE

I am dropping out of law school.......


"Wonderful family is looking for hands-on, experienced Butler to help manage the family’s home and act as a household manager. The family lives in the heart of Boston in a tasteful and elegant townhouse. They are looking for a polished, organized, trained butler to do daily household management, prepping and cooking, gourmet grocery shopping and household inventorying, errands, assistance with planning and executing luncheons and small affairs, vendor management, small household repairs, internet research, staff training and management and family assistant duties. This is a wonderful opportunity to work for an amazing, aesthetically oriented, philanthropic family. Ideal candidate will have excellent communication skills, be polished, extremely organized and able to wear a variety of hats. Live-out or Live-in (separate accommodations provided). Salary open DOE. Must have a clean background, wonderful references and clear driving record as a full check will be conducted. PLEASE SEND RESUMES IN A WORD DOCUMENT AS WELL AS REFERENCE LETTERS.

YOU MUST HAVE AT LEAST 5 YEARS EXPERIENCE WORKING WITH A FAMILY

PLEASE NOTE THIS JOB IS IN BOSTON MA.

Am I the only one who feels weird wearing suit pants when I am not wearing the entire suit. It is like I broke up Sonny & Cher. I keep thinking that I should not wear these pants unless it is traveling with its counterpart jacket. But this morning, when I looked at what clean slacks I had...I had no choice. Of course no one will know the difference, but the suit jacket might be just a tad jealous next time I wear them together. I might have damaged the relationship forever. Yes this is actually how my brain thinks.

Bong Hits for Jesus

I am sitting in children, family & state law and my professor is talking about free speech for children. The topic is of the most recent Supreme Court case that decided on an Alaskan student who carried a sign at a school function "Bong hits for Jesus". Why is it we have all these strange people coming out of Alaska? It is not bad enough that we have hockey mom Palin who can't figure out where Russia is on a map but insists she can see it from her house. Now we have crazy kids running around with signs about pot smoking and JC. Is there something in the water? Whatever it is, I am moving to Canada.

But only after the debate tonight ;)

Green with Something

I do not ususally discuss work on this blog partly because I always fear that some how I will be found. Nevertheless, I need to understand why I am having cruel "Blair" thoughts of how to sabbatoge a new girl at the firm. She is slowly moving into what is supposed to be my position when I return from the bar. And even though I know no one can take away the 3+ years of experience and good relationship I have with my partner. It stil worries me that while I am studying for 14 hours a pop during the 2 months I am off for the bar exam that somehow little miss sunshine is going to start doing bar shots with my boss on Friday nights. She has called me for minor questions, and I have been helpful but never offering to do more than needed. In the back of my mind, I am thinking of how I can tamper with a brief she wrote and switch it with it an angry email to a boyfriend or maybe slip into a conversation with the boss about how she was known at school as the class drunk. But in the end, I will not do any of these things but it always makes me feel better to think about them. Law school has taught me so well how to handle competition. Kick it in the knee and then run as fast as you can.

Rejected

So with the approach of graduation around the corner and about $150K in Student Loan debt. Not to mention 2 months of unemployment and bar fees that I still have not factored in. With repayment plans kicking in before the hazy days of summer begin, I am starting to think of ways to make quick money. I have considered flying to France to do a sleep study and even getting a nice pedicure in hopes that the foot fetish people might hire me. But I think I hit rock bottom when I decided to sign up to be an egg donor. I figured why not. I am smart, healthy, I do not smoke, and I can make up to $10,000. Easy enough just so they can steal some eggs, no problem. That was until I filled out the application. Have you or anyone in your family been diagnosed with ADHD? No. Are you or anyone in your family on Prozac? No. Do you smoke? No. Do you have a college degree? Yes. Woo hoo. I am on a roll...So I await my results. Here is what they sent me.


We're sorry, but you do not meet the minimum
qualifications to become an egg donor.

Thank you for your interest in our program.

I have been rejected! My eggs do not even qualify, they are not worthy. Sigh, back to salon - how is red for the toes??

It's all about the Benjamins

A lot has happened since my last post, and I began to wonder what could possible spark me to start writing in my blog again. If it wasn't the two weddings I had, or the amazing honeymoon through Colombia or calling the US Embassy to get me out of Colombia. If none of these very exciting yet story worthy events did not spark me to begin writing again (whether it be due to lack of time or just plain laziness) then what would it take?? Well, it took a 3 1/2 lb lobster. I spent this weekend celebrating the new hubby's birthday and I decided to go to Atlantic City. Now AC as the Jersey people call it has gone through a variety of stages. Back in the day when the mobsters and Frank Sinatra were around it was classy and only the high rollers would go party at the casinos. They would arrive in fancy limos and eat at extravagant restaurants and the casinos were filled with glitz and glamour. Then the city soon began to get filled with old ladies with plastic cups filled with quarters and all you can eat buffets. The only thing arriving at the casinos were DeCamp buses from the Port Authority bus terminal. So when I heard that AC was going through a rebirth, I decided to give it a shot. The last time I was in AC, I picked up a guy at the casino who became my long distance, pill popping, alcoholic, hot and sexy boyfriend. Don't judge. We all have had a least one bad boy in our life. So this time, it was another man who brought me to AC, a cute Southern chef who has an eye for good ole fashion American food. My hero - Bobby Flay. After many nights of Iron Chef and a night out at Mesa Grill, the Husband became a huge fan. So I figured what better birthday dinner than to drive out to Atlantic City. I booked us a night at the new retro luxury hotel, The Chelsea. Bashaw, the owner, hired the operators of the oh so popular Beatrice Inn to run their lounge so I figured I can not go wrong. The hotel was a hit, the rooms are ultra retro with leopard print chairs (I love animal print) and a bar with 2 fireplaces and a open air patio with a hot DJ blaring great music in the back. The hotel used to be a grimy, dingy Howard Johnson so I worried the area would still smell of old sex, but the hotel is brand spanking new. You would never suspect there used to a sleezy dump where the new Stephen Starr restuarant now stands. Anyway, I have gotten off track...Back to Bobby Flay. So after I had a cucumber/prosecco vodka martini to start the night (I had to get my daily serving of vegetables somehow), we were off to the birthday dinner. The dinner started off with a great bottle of Bordeaux and a wonderful lobster crab cake and oysters. Then came time to order entrees. I made a few mistakes that evening. Mistake #1 Asking the waiter to suggest an entree; Mistake #2 Trusting the waiter. I was recommended the lobster, and the waiter told me it was a specialty at the restaurant and the lobster was very fresh. Considering I walked past a tank of lobsters, I figured he could not be lying. I also thought when can you ever go wrong with a lobster. So he insisted he would crack it open and take out all the meat for me so I would not "dirty my pretty self". Oh how i am a sucker for compliments. So I went for the lobster. When the plate arrived he showed me the before and then came the after. A huge plate of lobster meat with butter and lemon on the side. I was so excited, and dove right into my plate. This is where Mistake #3 came into play. I never specified how many pounds I wanted. So after eating a wonderful mushroom mashed potatoes made in truffle oil and a delicious cauliflower with goat cheese side dish that we both split. I was in heaven. That was until I saw the bill!! It was then that it occurred to me that my waiter friend had picked shamu the whale to serve me for my entree, because my bill said 3 1/2 lb lobster! Who in their right mind would think that a 5'2" inch woman can or needs to eat 3 1/2 lbs of lobster meat? Not to mention, who in their right mind would think I can afford to eat a 31/2 lb lobster? Did he not get the memo I am a law student that is about to be unemployed for 2 months. Considering, I did not want to make a scene. I politely asked the Husband for the Amex because I knew my credit card would laugh in my face. I tipped 18% because the small child I just ate was eating the other 2% of his tip. Damn waiter! I am going back to AC next weekend so I can begin my part time job at Lace. Thanks Bobby Flay!

Vows

I still owe a post on my wedding, but in the meantime I am having second thoughts and think I should have chosen these vows:
Pastor: Will you love her when you’re fit,
And also when you’re feeling sick?

Groom: Yes, I’ll love her when we’re fit,
And when we’re hurt, and when we’re sick,
And I will love her when we’re rich
And I will love her in a ditch
And I will love through good and bad,
And I will love when glad or sad,
And I will have, and I will hold
Ten years from now a thousandfold,
Yes, I will love for my whole life
This lovely woman as my wife!

Elvis baby

Is it too late to Elope?

So if I have not repeated what every bride says 1 week before the wedding. Why the hell didn't I elope? I am not saying I have not loved the planning, and I am sure I will love the food, the open bar for 5 hours, and of course the coffee hazelnut cake. But I am just sick and tired of begging people so that we can either a) do something nice for them or b) ask that God forbid they put their selfish needs aside and do something nice for us like "stop complaining"!!! I have had to deal with 2 very difficult bridesmaids (one more than the other - did I forget to mention she made herself a BM??). If they are not too busy, they are too sick, too broke, too claustrophobic, too low class and too lazy to give a crap about their friend getting married. Then I have people that think things are too far, too long, too traditional, too non traditional. Since when did everyone lose focus? It is a damn wedding which means 2 people sharing vows and then a big fat party. All you have to do is show up. Well that is unless you are one of my BM then you have to complain or if your one of the nice BM's on the other side dealing with the complainers. (sorry bitsandgiggles). So I extend my apologies to everyone who has had to deal with headaches due to difficult guests, and I express my gratitude to all those who have had to deal with what I have had to deal with. And all I ask is that day everyone just leave their dramas at the door and if the church is too small for you and you feel short of breath-GET OUT!

Liver who needs one?

So this weekend was full of goodies. It started off with leaving work early and having 4 martinis with some co-workers and then momofuko for the best morel butter known to mankind. I would not suggest anyone go check this place out unless you like pork, pork and more pork. The oysters with kimchee were good but not $16.00 good. We spent a lot and ate way too little. Hence we move on..Friday I spent drinking 2 bottles (sharing with the Midwestern) of cotes du Rhone and a Bordeaux - one better than the other. Amazing what $2.00 will make a difference. This was sitting on a rooftop of a brownstone overlooking riverside park. While I contemplated why I did not get my MBA instead of law degree. Maybe then I would not be so sad as I walked past the kitchen bigger than my whole apt in Hoboken. And so we move on to Saturday which was filled with cheesy boat performers and a $105 meal (the garlic mash were worth it I suppose) but it was spent celebrating 30 again! With my childhood buddy. Then comes Sunday...oh Sunday if my liver had not seen the worst then he was about to. It started with unlimited mimosas and other champagne cocktails at Paradou. Oh how I love the French. Then off to Pastis to sit next to meatheads with no necks. And bitsandgiggles and I have decided that the lack of neck is equivalent to the size of brain cells. So then we offer to pay the cute gay couple to sit next to us so we would not have a guy with plaid shorts and polo shirt with his collar standing up staring at us like we were lunch meat. Then on to the next place to pee of course. Jane's Tavern looked decent enough as English pubs go, but since we did not want to crash on boys night, we got suckered to sitting out front of Little Owl with a pregnant lady and then opted to not wait the hour and go spent our loan money for a Austrian dinner at Wallse. Ahh! So after my wallet and liver took a break I stumbled home back to my apt only to wish I had more Sundays like this.

Kids

So if anyone knows me even a little they will know that children are not on the top of my list of favorite things. Not that I am mean or cruel, I just lack motherly chracteristics. I mean my dog goes hungry and without water at times, because I am downing shots of vodka on a Friday night and forgot to put the food bowl down. These are not things I am proud of, but I have to be honest with myself. So when the idea of a wedding came up, I said NO KIDS. Of course I sucked it up for the Midwestern's cousin's baby and made her the flower girl - but I draw the line outside of blood relatives. So when I received an RSVP 2 weeks from the wedding that the Midwestern's old college buddy is bringing his 2 offspring I almost screamed. The discussion led to the "No, we can not revoke his invite" I guess this is not like a license or something? So I spent most of Sunday trying to figure out where to seat these 2 little people. I could not have them at the original table with bitsandgiggles and my 3 co-workers trust me I would hate to see my boss with cake on her face. So I moved the whole family to another table that I basically made up just for them. I know this is not a big deal and if this is the worst that can happen I will suck it up. But I swear if I hear a peep out of either of these mongrels I will go down that aisle and smother them with my veil.

Wedding in the Sticks

So this weekend was the 2nd wedding (surprise surprise) that we were attending this month. This time, I was the one in the bridal party. So I spent all of Saturday and Sunday with the bride doing bridesmaidish things. Since this is my first time being a bridesmaid I will give credit to all of those who have done it before - Hail to you oh great ones! It is hard ass work. I ran around going to brunches, and lunches, and dinners and nails, and hair and feet, etc.. Not to mention the emergencies such as lipstick on gown (Tide to go!) or bustles that do not bustle. You get the point, but I will say the best part is that my friend was the sweetest bride. There was always a please and thank you after every request, so note to self (and all others). Be nice! Even if you are hot and sticky under a 30 lb dress just suck it up because these girls have sucked it up with you. With that said, there was a lot of dancing, a beautiful interfaith ceremony, and an annoying photographer that I almost beat down Queens style. I also got to sing Hava Nagila which made the midwestern question whether I was from S.A. or Israel. We had a great time - Cornell alumni you rock and the music and location was great (anything near a body of water pretty much rules)! The only mishaps on the trip was we almost ran out of gas in the middle of the sticks at 1 a.m. and we almost had our bodies chopped up into a million pieces by the Wolf Creek killer. (Another note to self) Put gas in the car before you get on the road to nowhere. Corn fields do not show up on GPS, and if anyone needed to find us not even Jack Bauer could. Hopefully the only mishap in the next wedding will be me and bitsandgiggles doing shots out of our pink flask before the ceremony.

Conclusion to Chi Town Wedding

I walk up to the open bar and ask the bartender for a stiff one and he responds "can I see ID?" I giggle and say "Okay seriously I will have a double grey goose vodka martini shaken not stirred and make it fast." He looks at me with this blank stare and repeats it again..."Can I see your ID?" By this time, I was ready to start dipping a straw into the vodka bottle. So I explain to him in my ever so sarcastic voice that no one with half a brain brings an ID to a wedding. I am not at a bar or a club, I am at a wedding. A wedding where I just dropped $300 into the money box and squeezed my mashed potato butt into a tight black dress, and a wedding where my Midwestern cooked in the sun without a bathroom break for 4 hours, and a wedding where I had 30 children running around my feet screaming and making noise. At this point I need a drink so badly, the bartender should just start breaking out the funnel. I storm off, tell the groom the problem but the bartender still refuses. Luckily one of the groomsmen bought me a drink, but the rest of the evening I had to ask someone to get me drinks. So I figure dinner is about to be served it can only get better - right? Wrong! I sit down to a Pork and Veal dinner. Who in the world makes a wedding with only 2 choices, baby cow and pig? I meal at least throw some fish or veggie options. Well I was not too concerned because the bride assured me that she ordered my meal in advance. I tell the waiter I am part of the vegetarian crowd and he nods and walks away. I am so excited that my mouth is watering. He returns with a plate of arugula, 2 pieces of asparagus and a mushroom on top for decor. At this point, I am convinced this is the salad. Oh silly me!!! it was the damn entree. Now I am trying to figure out if I can some how grab my tweezers to grab the envelope back out of the money box and take back my gift to the lovely couple so I can buy myself a slice of pizza down the block. The Midwestern trying to make lemonade out of lemons asks the waiter for a plate of polenta. He brings over a side of polenta and I ate it with half a loaf of bread because I was so hungry I could have started eating my purse if it were not synthetic. I wish I could tell you I was too drunk to care or that the music was so good I was too busy dancing and that all of these mistakes meant nothing in the scheme of things. But as I listened to the temptations and other horrible old music from my parents generation. I sat around making more mental notes..."My humps", "Soldier Boy", "Gold digger". So no, I will not have centerpieces the size of a small child, and the midwestern will not wear a $800 tux and my groomsmen will not all wear stupid patent leather rental shoes(oh wait what groomsmen??)and $150 Armani ties, nor will I have ice sculptures of the Louvre in Paris. Instead, the Midwestern will wear his hot new Cole Haan's with his Jones New York Tux and Gold Italian silk tie we bought on Wall Street. And the only flowers will be petals on the table and our music may be filled with inappropriate mix of rock, alternative, pop, hip hop, salsa and reggae. But who cares

Wedding Part III

So it is wedding day and this is where the fun begins. When you make six figures, a wedding is so much fun to plan, because everything goes. For example, you get 2 suites at the Four Seasons because you need one for getting dressed and one for sleeping. You also rent a trolley to take your 16 person bridal party around Chicago in 95 degree heat with 88 degree humidity for 4 hours to take pictures. Why? because you can. But somehow all the money in the world can not make the trolley's air condition work so you have 8 sweaty men in tuxedos ready to pass out and faint. So you bring beer lots of it, and chips and sandwiches, but all that does not matter when there are no bathroom breaks. Why? Because the psycho photographer and Bridezilla can not go off their time schedule. So the midwestern almost got left behind while he ran in to use the can at the museum. The only good thing is the boys got to sit in the dug out at Wrigley Field which made getting heat stroke all worth it. I on the other hand was strolling around magnificent mile shopping, enjoying the Victoria Secret Sale. I got a call from a few of the girlfriends of the bridal party who then met me for brunch at this cool spot off the avenue. Once I got back to the hotel to get dressed the midwestern walked in as red as an apple and with a rose wilted from the heat on his lapel. I told him to take a cold shower before the ceremony, but he said bridezilla would not let them - something about more pictures. Jesus I mean I love my bridesmaids but I do not need 5 hours of pictures of them. So I forced him to shower and off he went to the ceremony. I finished getting dressed and met them all at the restaurant and threw an extra pair of shoes for the midwestern in a bag. Because the patent leather tux shoes rentals were pinching his feet. Apparently the groomsmen were not allowed to take those off either. I just about had it with all the do's and dont's of this OCD wedding. I figured if anyone said anything, I would just beat them with the heel! The ceremony felt ten hours long, and the homily lasted longer than an inagural address. I di sort of laugh though because even the minister made fun of the bride and her type A to the fifth power personality. Then there was a rose ceremony, a unity candle ceremony, lighting candle for the families ceremony. I thought if they drag this on anymore I will stand up and scream "fire". Instead 5 screaming flower girls ran around the altar while the priest spoke and the bride and groom said their vows. While I made mental note to call my doctor to tie my tubes as soon as I got back to NY. After the wedding march (I hate the wedding march), it was off to cocktail hour. The apps were good but little did I know my night had just started.

Weddings Part Deux

So this Friday I was off to Chi town to celebrate the Midwesterner's best man's wedding. He was getting married in Chicago with his wonderful fiance and this was supposed to be the wedding of the lifetime. We took a 5 am taxi to the airport and arrived in Chicago way too early. But that's okay by the time we rode the L to the hotel, they let us check in early. Yeah! for wedding party perks! So after checking in, we decided to splurge on some deep dish pizza. Being from the East coast the closest I have come to that was Uno's, and was not too impressed. That was until I tried my cheese and spinach deep dish at Gino's East and fell in love with the midwest. After consuming way too many calories we were off back to the hotel to meet the rest of the wedding party. The Midwestern took off while I went to the spa and learned a hard lesson. There is no such thing as hard wax in Chicago or the state of Illinois for that matter. I forgot to visit Flor before I left and I called ever damn salon in that windy city and no one knew what I was talking about. Finally I ended up at Elizabeth Arden Red Door and met the nicest Ukrainian lady named Svetlana who took care of me. I liked her so much and she was so sweet, we discussed shopping and eating, while she had my legs spread eagle. So $1000 dollars later, I paid her for the most expensive wax job of my life and went back to getting ready for the rehearsal. The rehearsal was at Gibson's where I ate a pound of raw tuna with cheese mashed potatoes and Key Lime Pie all while wearing my lime green shoes and patent leather clutch - Yes I matched the desert. How the hell was I supposed to fit into any dress tomorrow eating and drinking like this? I was put in charge of watching the $150 Armani ties of all the groomsmen and was probably carrying around a grand worth of cranberry silk ties. The night ended at some bar and I took off because I luckily left my ID at the hotel and was not allowed into the dive shamrock bar after midnight. The idea of walking on sticky beer floor while wearing my hot green stilettos made me nervous. So I went back to our very expensive not worth $200 night hotel. At 4 am, I woke up to the sound of the Midwestern as he walked in and told me he basically talked the groom off the ledge. I was not sure if the groom was freaking out because he thought I ran off with the ties or if he was just freaking out because his bride-to-be spent a small down payment on flowers. Either way I was tired and did not care so I rolled over thinking of the wedding tomorrow and whether I can fit my butt into a satin dress or if I had to run out and buy spanx.

Weddings, Weddings and More Weddings

Well, a lot has happened since my last post. I had a wonderful bridal shower that resulted in a ride around central park in a gondula with a man wearing a funny outfit. Champagne toast on the rooftop of the Ritz waiting for the sunset and oh I forgot to mention the crab benedict and goat cheese salad. So thanks to my wonderful friends some who traveled very far (well I am not sure which is farther Queens, Chicago or Sayerville :)I had wonderful memories, gifts and just a grand day. Since my last post I have also had the pleasure of escaping wedding stuff to share in something of greater importance bitsandgiggles graduation and celebration of passing both bars (damn over achiever) And had a wonderful meal at Del Posto with wine oh so much wine! And also during the last month I found a wonderful organist, bought both wedding bands and spent way too much and started summer school. But let us not forget the weekend wedding in Chicago. Oh the stories...to be continued in Part Deux

TC

So I am sitting here on a Monday afternoon after finishing my adoption law 48 hr exam early and enjoying my freshly painted toes. When I turn on the TV and see Tom Cruise. Not really a big deal, but then I realize that Oprah is interviewing him to celebrate 25 yrs of acting. So as I open up my products liability book, I hear "You've lost that loving feeling" in the background. Then I realize that if there is a movie I can see more than once - Top Gun is absolutely one of them. Maybe that is why when I was at Cravath even the boys were naming their tape guns Maverick. Because the truth is I think everyone loves that movie. And then we have The Firm. Ahh, who can forget that scene where the music is blaring and he whispers in his wife's ear, and she runs out screaming and crying. Or what about the scene where he dances around in his underwear and socks in Risky Business singing "Old time rock and roll". Then of course I am not sure when I cried more either in "A few Good Men" (I think this was when I decided to interview for JAG) or "Born on the 4th of July". There is really no point to this blog entry except that I just realized how much I really like Tom Cruise as an actor and even though he is into Scientology I forgive him because "he had me at hello."

Oye Como Va

The other night I booked a hotel for the 5 days/4 night stay at the island of San Andres in Colombia. Okay so what is the big deal you say? Well then maybe no one will think it is weird that this is the 3rd hotel I have booked for the same days in the same location. I refuse to cancel any of my hotel reservations and why may you ask? Because Colombia for some reason does not own credit card machines and believes in good old fashion "I give you my word". I have contacted numerous hotels who have told me okay miss we will see you on August 13th? I then proceed to ask if I need to give a deposit. The guy on the other line says "No, just call us a week in advance to remind us." What! Are they kidding. So it is no wonder I now have 3 hotels just in case, because the last thing I want is to be in a 3rd world country run by drug cartels with no place to sleep with a blue eyed gringo on my hands. Trust me, I will not be calling myself Mrs. Midwestern at any point before we return to the good ole U.S. of A. And in case any one happens to be passing through Colombia I have a reservation for each one of you.

Freak show

So yesterday class was cancelled, and I decided to go to the gym. After 30 minutes on the elliptical machine I figured if I was paying a million dollars and eleven cents a month for this gym membership than I might as well take a class. So there was a Yoga class on the schedule and I said to myself "Eh, can't be that bad." That was until I had my ankles behind my ear and was standing on one leg. Are they kidding? Nobody should be able to twist their body in ways that this man made us last night. I felt like a member of cirque de soleil. So after an hour and a half of downward dog and warrior pose I was done. I was so sore and my limbs were like jelly and all I kept thinking is I can not wait to take it again. I am either a sucker for punishment or I am hoping I can use some of these moves in the bedroom.

Close Calls

So something happened to me that made me realize life is scary sometimes. I was cleaning the house yesterday and I grabbed my products liability textbook to put burn in the fireplace (just kidding) actually to just move it to the bedroom. When as I was walking in my white athletic socks slipped on the Mexican rug and flew across the living room. The scariest thing was I could have broke my chin open because I fell face forward onto the wood floor. The good thing is the textbook saved me. If it didn't I was definitely going to use to help me sue the company that made the Mexican rug for defective design trust me. I got up bruised up on both knees and a little shaken up. Thoughts of me falling on the coffee table and cracking my head open flashed in my mind. I mean what would spike do? Would he try to alert the neighbors or just eat me while I lie on the floor. Nevertheless, I called the midwestern and he asked "Do you need to go to the hospital?" No, I just needed a hug but I did not know how to explain that - Guys just don't get it. So I just went back to watching the High School Reunion Marathon. And I took off those damn athletic socks too.

Rock of Love

So if anyone knows me well enough they are aware of my guilty pleasure of realty TV. I figure after spending years studying hours of endless boring case law and regulations I deserve it. I need to not use my brain cells and watch crazy people make complete fools of themselves on tv. The midwestern also tells me that somehow I get joy out of watching people with really f&*cked lives. Maybe it is because then my petty life issues will not seem so bad anymore. So when the midwestern came home late last night from pulling overtime at work, he was surprised to see I was still awake. That was until he realized why. Not because I am the sweet fiancee that waits up for her man, but I was waiting for another man. Bret Michaels. I sat and watched the season finale of Rock of Love, and tried to guess what in the world he saw in Daisy. The girl seemed like she was high on something at all times.Not to mention her eyebrows were non existent. But then I saw what I am sure Bret fell in love with her fake boobs and over collagened mouth. Love is not skin deep. But at 1:30 am in the morning I was shocked when he chose the less attractive girl but much smarter one, see and they say nice girls finish last. But my favorite part of the night was when they started playing Poison songs in the background and all of sudden I hear....."I wasn't looking for rock of like or rock of lust. I was looking for a Rock of Love." Yes, Bret me too! The end result is the midwestern and I have decided to make these our wedding vows. Now the question is would it be weird to say it while playing "Living on a Prayer" in church. Does that break the 80's hair band rule? Not sure, but if anyone knows please let me know.

I laughed when I first learned of the McDonald's case where the woman sued McDonald's for her burns when she spilled coffee on herself. Firstly, the facts of the case were outrageous because she was driving and she put the cup of coffee in her lap. I definitely can think of easier ways to not have kids. But this morning, I finally understood why she sued. I went upstairs to my coffee room to get my instant Flavia coffee. If anyone does not know what that is, it is the machine where it takes these packets and sucks them up, eats them, and spits out coffee. It is pretty amazing and provides endless entertainment for the corporate world. So after I get my coffee I decide it is too full and I need to spill some out. Except I obviously mistook myself for a sink. Before I could scream "Attorney", the scalding coffee burned my delicate olive skin and I am positive created 3rd degree burns. If it didn't, well then it sure felt like it burnt through at least two layers of epidermis. And after running cold water on my hand which actually I think is the worst thing you can do. The first thing that came to mind was "Damn I hate that Flavia company". Even though it was obviously my fault, I still felt this psychotic anger toward this company. Which makes no logical sense, but logic at this point disappeared like the hair folicles that were seared off my skin. This coffee company probably has a headquarter office in Topeka, Kansas and has no idea that there is this clumsy law clerk in NYC that just bathed in what felt like volcanic acid. So as I sit here writing this blog entry I am also gathering my thoughts for a letter to Flavia and how they should lower the temperature of their coffee or put warning labels such as: "Please do not rub hot liquids on your skin because it may hurt as much as cutting your limbs off with a butter knife". So here I am using my $150K lawyer skills and writing a letter claiming defective coffee. Thank you J.D.

EJ got a big ole butt

Purses are a wonderful item. They hold our prized possessions like condoms, make up, blackberry, wallet, even shoes. I rely on my purse to dress up an outfit or to beat off nasty guys at the club. Sometimes I love my purse so much I take it with me to walk the dog because you never know if your going to run into the cute guy with the doberman. But ladies our purse does not need its own seat on the train. I know it may seem tired from all the hard work of carrying all our stuff but it really could fit nicely on our lap. As a matter of fact it prefers to be nestled on our laps where it is close to us. It appreciates this intimacy. So unless your at Daniel where Mr. Boulud is nice enough to provide seating for your significant accessory, keep your freaking bag off the train seat so my big ass can sit down.

Wedding Dance

So I hate line dancing. The chicken dance, macarena, electric slide have all been banned from the wedding. I even told the DJ to remove all disco, if I hear Abba or Donna Summers someone is going down. But back to line dancing. The idea of 50 guests lined up doing the dollar dance scares me. It brings back all terrible memories of worst weddings ever. However, in order to change it up a notch. I am thinking of maybe having my bridesmaids and I do this dance at the wedding. Why? 1) Because I love the song 2) Because I can do it better than these guys 3) To give my future MIL a heart attack. So bitsandgiggles I think MOH will agree now all we have to do is convince the Russian and we are set.

Green with Envy

So after putting myself further into debt yesterday I figured it no longer mattered any more. I grabbed the credit card and said to hell with it. Screw the ice sculpture mama's buying herself a new pair of shoes. So I start the marathon. I traveled all of the Hoboken designer boutiques buying handmade jewelry, patent leather clutches, but still no shoes. I even picked up a chunky bangle that will probably be worn once, but no shoes. You see I needed a pair of green shoes. Not green camo but a nice sexy money green. The new colors for spring/summer this season in case anyone missed the latest edition of Vogue are bright colors like yellow, blue, green, pink and even orange in some areas. I already owned a pair of hot pink and I wanted something different. So I decided on green. So in my mind I am thinking pointy toe patent leather green stilettos. At this point, I am so far into debt I have decided I am wearing this dress with all the accessories for my bridal shower, the rehearsal in Chicago, maybe even bitsandgiggles' graduation. Damn I may even sleep in the dress tonight (with the necklace, clutch, earrings and bangle too - well if I need to be rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night at least I will be dressed fashionably). So finally I find them - and they are perfect (so we didn't find pumps but with a 4 inch heel who cares). Ahh, amazing what a new pair of shoes will do to a woman's self esteem. So here I am walking home with numerous bags and fearing I will run into the Midwestern. Too late...He looks at me from the corner. I try to hide between the liquor store and the brownstone. Maybe I can run in a get a bottle of grey goose to wallow in my sorrows after I examine my receipts? Sh*T, I've been caught. He turns and stares at me with the same look of disgust that Elizabeth Sue gave Nicolas Cage in the mall scene. "Will we be able to pay the mortgage this month?" I look at him with this face of pity and remorse, and whisper in his ear. "Probably not."

Shopping Spree

When I woke up yesterday the weather was gorgeous and I finally felt like spring had arrived. So what better way to celebrate the spring but with shopping. Most people would think this is no big deal except with me it is different. You see its like putting an alcoholic in a brewery. I love to shop but my problem is I don't shop cheap. I am not sure if it is because I somehow want to believe I am rich or I feel like I should be rich, or maybe it is just because I like nice things. But "NO", see it is more than that. I like the way it feels to walk into a store and not look at the price tag, and to have the sales person cater to me like I am Ivanka Trump. If anyone has been to the shoe department in Nordstrom they know what I mean. The salespeople come over with 10 boxes of shoes of all different styles and colors and you feel like Leona Helmsley. And even though the only reason they like you is because they work off commission - who cares. Because the only reason why you are there is because you somehow have sunken to an ultimate low in your self esteem and need some reassurance as to why you are on this planet. Thus bringing me to yesterday's shopping spree. I decided to check out my neighborhood boutiques, not realizing two things 1) Hoboken residents have a sh*T load of money 2)We have someone become Soho while I was sleeping. I walk into the first shop and I should have seen the red flags when I picked up a dress that said Badgley Mischka. But I hate to be seen looking at price tags and running out. So I play cool as if I own ten of those, and keep browsing. It wasn't until the lady decided to ask me if I needed help that I froze. She looks at me and says "You are a size 2 right"? Damn your good. I didn't want to tell her I am a size 2 with a size 4 a*ss but I did not want to interrupt her as she started grabbing dresses off the rack. Next thing you know I have 4 dresses in the dressing room and she asks me what size shoe? Shoes? I came in here for a dress, well actually I came in here with an empty wallet but she doesn't need to know all that. So I walk into the dressing room and try on the first dress. I walk out in front of the floor length mirror and the woman in the room next to me was buying 2 dresses. I told the lady that I was getting married and I needed an outfit for my bridal shower. Okay first dress gorgeous black and white trapeze style dress. I loved it..Loved it so much I refused to say it for fear I might have to buy it. So I waited until I tried on another dress. The next dress was a black sexy Audrey Hepburn looking dress with pockets. Pockets! All dresses should have pockets don't you think? So I grab both and at this point feel like a drug addict in a crack house. I will take the black one, I said. I thought the Audrey Hepburn look was hot if I paired with some smokin' stilettos and a clutch. Should I go yellow, red, blue or green??? She said well this is 50% off. Whew! So off I go to the cashier. At this point, I am thinking which card is not maxed out. Is it the Citibank? No I booked the honeymoon tickets there. Is it the Bank of America? No, I think Puerto Rico is still on that one? Okay here you go. So she rings me up and I realized that that I just paid $300 for a dress that was 50% off. She must be mistaken. It did say 50% right? Well at this point, all I want to do is run as fast as I can and start seeing if the escort agency on 5th will hire me. As I am walking out the door, she says are you sure you don't want the trapeze dress I mean it is such a steal it is only $450. I nod my head and tell her I need to go pick up the Benz at the shop but will be back. And then run, Forest, run. Off to the shoe store.

Brooklyn

So I had to take a trip to Brooklyn today for a close friend's bridal shower. When I heard Brooklyn, I started to think.."Oh God I hope it is nowhere near Coney Island." I should not complain, because my bridal shower will probably be in Sheepshead bay which is somewhere near the beach which has got to mean far far away. Nevertheless, when I received the email the host told me it was in Brooklyn Heights. Okay that is easy enough - right? Wrong! I head out about 11:30 am because I figured I did not know where I was going so better to get a head start. Then I get a text: A train not stopping at High Street must take A to Jay street and then turn back around and take the A train one stop to High Street. Great! Now I have to carry two very heavy bags even farther and transfer trains. Okay okay and we are off. So after I get off the station, I start looking for Adams Street. The email says "Apartment is 100 yards from train". Easy enough...Except then I read somewhere on the email "make sure you are on the right side of the bridge." Bridge? What bridge?! So I walk, and walk, and walk. Finally I ask someone "Where is Adams? " So I find it 10 minutes later and then I walk up Adams and down Adams and up Adams and down - you get the point. I am doing this all while I am holding my phone looking at Google Maps and it keeps telling me that the building was to the right but every time I went there I hit a dead end. How can GPS be telling me this is where the building is - there is nothing here but a damn wall and then the highway. Hmm? Finally after 20 minutes I find a police officer. I ask her "Do you know where this is?" She tells me the other side of the bridge. Where the F*&k ois this bridge? There must be something in the drinking water!. That is she until she points to a sign that says Brooklyn Bridge. I start panicking, do I have to cross the Brooklyn Bridge? My hands are about to fall off, and I think I have lost all circulation from the 5 lb soup I am carrying or is it the 16 piece spice rack? Nevertheless, I was ready to give up and open those babies up and just start having my own bridal shower on the bridge. Luckily the cop told me that I just had to cross this very large intersection and I would be there. So I take my badly wrapped bridal gift and I start crossing this very large intersection. 100 feet later I am at the building. As I press the doorbell it hits me....I am never moving to Brooklyn.

Safe Sex please!

I realized today why it is I do not have children. No it isn't the screaming, or the whining, and it isn't the annoying "Why?" after everything you say. The reason came to me while I was home last night. I had just finished watching an episode of "The Wire", and my dog Spike would not stop whining. Now if anyone knows my dog, they will know that he has ADD, and should probably be on Prozac anyway. Well he also loves to whine, and it gets old fast. The Midwestern took him out thinking he might have to go for a walk - Nope. One hour later he started up again, so this time I took him out, thinking maybe now he really has to go - right? Wrong. Finally both the Midwestern and I are watching Will and Grace and getting ready for bed, and all you hear is whine, whine, whine. UGH! Then the Midwestern turns to be and asks: Did you give the dog water today? Um, No did you? His response: Um, No? OMG! I run to the kitchen and fill up his water bowl and Spike ran to it like he just crossed the Sahara. After he finished his 2nd bowl of water, the Midwestern turns to me and asks: When was the last time you gave the dog water? Um, last week.
This is why I don't have kids.

Client 9

There is this girl in my class who always wears super short skirts and low cut blouses, and I feel as if she saw Erin Brokowitz way too many times. The difference is this woman is a large woman, not I need gastric bypass large, but the I had too many cupcakes large. Well every time I see her, I have to check out what she is wearing because watching someone make a fashion faux pas is always quite fun for most women. Today, I noticed she had these very high stilettos with a metallic gold heel with her one size too small suit. Is she kidding? Who the world wears metallic gold stilettos to a law firm? Does she work for Spitzer on her free time? I am very worried, and I want to run up to her and tell her that she should stay clear of the clearance section at Rickys, but I decide to keep my silence. Instead, I start walking to my drafting litigation documents with my paper in hand which is due today. I run into my classmate and he says "Hey did you do your paper?" I nod my head. "How many pages?" I look at him and say "Six". I see his face turn white and his mouth open. I start to sweat..Did I write too little? Should I have included a table of authorities? "Are you kidding? You were only supposed to write 2 pages."

Payback is a bitch

Adult only Weddings

I am going to say something that might make me burn in hell, and my good Catholic parents very upset. But I am not a huge fan of children. No that does not mean I will not have my own, because I am sure that motherly instinct will kick in. And no that does not mean I do not like kids in general. I am just not a big fan of crying, screaming children and at times I find them overwhelming. I figure I probably have 3-4 more years of this until I start wanting kids so much that a trip to Babies-r-us is filled with ooos and ahhhhs. But until that happens, the last place I really want them is running down the aisle at the church during the wedding. So how do you write in a tackful way

You are kindly requested to keave your screaming mongrels at home.

Everyone Loves Little Girls

I am going to say something that might make me burn in hell, and make my good Catholic parents very upset. But I am not a huge fan of children. No that does not mean I will not have my own, because I am sure that motherly instinct will kick in one day. And no that does not mean I do not like kids in general. I am just not a big fan of crying, screaming children and at times I find them annoying. I figure I probably have 3-4 more years of this until I start wanting kids so much that a trip to Babies-r-us is filled with "ooos and ahhhhs". But until that happens, the last place I really want them is running down the aisle at the church during the wedding. So I figured it might be too tacky to put on our invites "Adult only reception", because it might give people the wrong impression. It is bad enough that my law school budget is forcing me to invite some people without the "plus 1". I do not want all my friends to hate me. So when I heard that my future MIL was inviting her niece and her baby, I wanted to scream. I started thinking? What if she starts screaming in the church? What if she throws cake at people? What if she is just plain cute?? Nah! So I decided, if I must have a child there (mind you the only child), then she must serve a function. I must give her something to do, thus making her a flower girl. I never thought I would have a flower girl, because of the reasons listed above. But I thought, shoot if I have to have her there then she has to work. You know what they say about idle hands? Well that opened a can of worms. All of a sudden, I started to get tons of emails on dresses and colors and shoes and tiaras. Why cant they just put her in combat boots and overalls? Do I really care what she wears? Well apparently I do, because when they showed me some dress that was red and frou frou. I probably should have told them I hate red...Oops! So now I have to take back the ever so kind "Oh any dress is find". Um no! I had to politely tell them my color theme of the wedding and hope they get the hint. Which they did - and low and behold I get these pics of this ever so cute little girl dressed up like a princess smiling at the camera. Apparently, she told her mom she was getting all dressed up to go see a "princess."Okay okay the kid got me. Anyone who can recognize my royalty ancestry has scored points with me. For that I might even pick her up a damn tiara.

MPRE

This weekend I had to take the MPRE, and for those who do not know what it is I will explain. The American Bar Association beside making you take 3 days of a grueling 21 hours of exams also makes you take this 3 hour ethics exam. Okay it was more like 2 hours and 25 minutes, but nevertheless. The midwestern thinks it is their way of policing themselves so that the state or federal government will not get involved in making laws to govern how lawyers practice. I kind of agree. So with that said, in order to get admitted you have to take this ethics exam which they recommend you take your last year of law school so that it does not interfere with you studying for the bar. Except they never considered it might interfere with the 2 papers I have to write for school. Jerks! Anyway, I spent 5 hours studying on Friday night after 1 vodka/soda and a martini. I do not know why I insisted on having alcohol in my system, but I figured if I had to do 180 multiple choice questions dealing with: Can a lawyer be subject to discipline for commingling client funds, or Is it proper to pay for referrals?. BORING! I figured I should be tipsy. So back to the exam. I wake up at 7:00 am on Saturday for a 9:00 am exam. This is very odd considering that the exam center is all of 15 minutes from my apartment, so why did I wake up 2 hrs earlier? Well because part of being a law student or a lawyer for that matter is being anal. That is why some students book 3 rooms for the bar exam, just in case one burns down, one is hit by a tornado, then you have back up. So I woke up 2 hrs earlier, in case the path was flooded, the ferry sunk, and the taxi cabs went on strike..I would still have a way of getting into the city on time. I showed up on Church street at 8:30 am which gave me enough time to scope the proper seat. You know the one that is not too close to the person with the fidgety hands, or the girl who is blowing her nose. Which brings me to taking any exam in the winter. It should be banned! Too many damn people blowing their nose, that half way into the exam I thought the blowing of the nose sounded like it was in unison to a song I heard on the radio. Someone get the girl a freaking nasal spray! I heard a person behind sigh very loudly and slam her pencil down, but the girl did not get the hint. She kept going - honker and all. Finally I finished all 60 questions, and even the test center questions where I get to give my opinion of the test center. I gave everything raving reviews (NY law school is in a nice building and great location..I mean the distance to the bubble lounge is great because all law students should have champagne within walking distance) But the question about taking the exam with no distractions made me look for a space where I could make additional comments about Gonzo over there but I could only answer: Excellent, Fair, Bad, Terrible. I chose "none of the above", and then walked out of there as fast as I could praying that the champagne bar was open at 11 am.

Eating Gold

So it is March 5th and I am 4 months away from the big day. I have spent the last 4 months planning the important stuff: Food, Liquor, dress. Oh was there more important stuff? You see I hate fussing over stupid details like what color should the flower girl dress be - who cares? So long as there is no screaming crying baby running down the aisle - you can put her in a green camouflage overall outfit for all I care. So when it came down to trying to decide if I wanted to spend $33.00 on a flap that hangs over the side of my invites - I was ready to scream. The wedding industry as I have mentioned before is nothing more than a way to get people to spend way too much money on things they can't afford and everyone will forget within the first 3 martinis. So I figured that's it!!! Focus on Martinis! So I started looking at martini ice luges. For anyone who has never seen one - it is a 200 lb block of ice where you pour the vodka down what sort of looks like a water slide in Disney and the vodka comes out chilled as you catch it in your martini glass - Brilliant. What worries me is that I may have people with their tongue stuck to the ice sculpture because they have decided to catch it with their mouth (see Exhibit A above). Trust me those people will probably be the Midwestern and me - bitsandgiggles are you in? During my research, I also came across this new luxury vodka that has Gold flakes in it. Wow! How cool would it be to ingest 24 kt gold flakes, that has got to increase my net worth some how right? Does anyone know if our bodies can even digest gold? Ahh all these details.....

War or Honeymoon?

I was sitting in the living room when I heard the Midwestern say something to the fact that "Chavez is sending troops to Colombia." What? Chavez? Colombia? What the hell is that batshi*t crazy psycho doing with Colombia? I mean anyone who goes around chewing coca leaves all day has got to have a few brain cells short of a oraguntan. Well it looks like not only is Venezuela going to send troops to my homeland, but so is Ecuador (my other homeland)- WTF? You see for me that is a big problem considering that my wedding is in Ecuador and my honeymoon is in Colombia. I really do not feel like flying through enemy airspace. Not to mention that it is already normal to be greeted at the airport by AK47's, but now I have to worry about being caught in the middle of the military fire or trying to find a pink bullet proof vest to go with my outfit. You know most people pick normal places to have their wedding and honeymoon, like Mexico, Bermuda, Jamaica, or Hawaii. Not a 3rd war countries that are run by Farc, and especially not countries that have thousands of paramilitary guerillas walking around as if it were a cops during the St. Pattys parade in NY. So with that being said, I am on the internet looking at the refund policy of my airfare under the category "war", and hoping that I can change my hotels as well. I mean Avianca (colombian airline) has to understand, right? I mean they do not really want to be target practice either do they? Anyone have any places I can get some nice combat boots?

I was not sure that whether my fingers or my nose was going to fall off first, but I knew if I did not get to work soon one was going to go fast. Today was probably the coldest day of the year, if anything has convinced me not to move to Chicago this was it. Luckily I heard the weather while I was getting dressed so I pulled out my wool slacks, my turtleneck [which I bought on one of the coldest days in Paris] and then grabbed the J-Lo coat. I have this coat that is long and furry and suede and sort of makes me look like Jenny from the block. It is a mix between ghett-o-licious and fab-o-licious. And I am sure if I had as much money as J-Lo I would own two. The coat also makes me feel like a Russian princess with its big hood, so I thought "Bring it!" That was until I started walking my way up Pine Street and I though Oooh...God must be really pissed off at us for this global warming thing, that he decided to kick our a*ss this morning. God: "Oh so you want to keep driving those SUV's don't you?" Us: "Yes we do and what are you going to do about it." God: "Well how are you going to feel when 9 of your toes have turned black. Now let me see you push that gas pedal on that Escalade....What you got!!?" (I swear I have these conversations in my head) The Hummer thinks it won the battle with its Hybrid (that is such an oxymoron). So instead of gas we use hydrogen - And? When the car is THAT big it doesn't matter if we use Champagne, I still see a world war breaking out over some grapes. So now I am sitting at my desk next to the window, being thankful that I work on the 50th floor where I can feel the unprotected UV rays of the sun beating down on my face. Ahhhh...I can slowly start feeling my circulation pump back into my toes. Whew, because it would suck if I only had one - How else would I drive the "beast" in Puerto Rico?

Farewell my Friend and Confidant

Farewell, my friend and confidante! As you go, so must I return upon the well-worn path. Each soul must travel by. Wend where you will, my wanderer, Even as you stay. Long-treasured in my lonely heart, Loved well, though far away.

I am writing this blog with much happiness and sadness to my dear friend JK. He is currently sitting in an internet cafe in his flip flops somewhere near the Andes drinking a cafe con leche. I did not have a chance to bid farewell and am very saddened for that. However, between him trying to finalize the last 30 something years of his life in NY and me trying to rush out of NY practice class at 8:30 - our paths never crossed before he took off on his journey to the Equator. So instead I send this message to him by the only means I see fit - Internet blogging. So as I sit here and think back to the late nights of eating Lobster tails at Outback in White Plains, or the CD production logs that kept us so long in that God forsaken building of IBM... I still smile. Then we progressed to a deeper friendship over highlighting trial exhibits and sticking labels on green folders in the pencil top skyscraper of CSM. Ahhh what we would do without the life of 80 hour weeks of the corporate legal world to bind us? I have met so many amazing people over the midnight Island Burger meals at a conference table on the 36th floor. And now I bid adieu to one of the first and definitely one of the most important of the original CSM crew. I will miss you JK - keep wearing your slippers even if it is 80 degrees in Cusco and keep in touch. In the interim, I will save the lobster tail for you senor frog until you return.