Trick or Treat.

I luuuurve Halloween. I saw Pet Semetary when I was 8 years old (parents? yeah I don't know) and have been a horror movie freak ever since. Many a night was obviously spent on my parents' bedroom floor or in their bed, but I just love being scared. There's probably (definitely) something wrong with me.

Aww. Poor Chloe is losing her voice (bark) from saying hi to the adorable costumed children coming to the door.

The "Are You Fucking Kidding Me?" Moment of the Day

Subway. Express train home. Headphones in. Michael Jackson is telling me that it's close to midnight and something evil's lurking through the dark.

Suddenly, a tap on my shoulder. I turn, and see a tall thin 45-ish nerdy guy. I say, "Yes?" Dude goes, "It's too loud. Too loud."

Um, excuse me? Are you fucking kidding me? First of all, the volume on my dam ipod wasn't even turned all the way up. Second, it's the subway. 98% of people have earphones in. Sometimes, yes, a person's music is loud, and you wonder how his or her eardrums are handling it since you can hear it from the outside. But mine wasn't that loud. Aside from that, who the fuck is so bothered by that as to tell a person to turn it down? Um, move away if you're bothered. Jesus.

So, I say to the doofus, "What song is playing?"

"Huh?"

"If it's so loud, you must know what song is playing. It's a pretty famous song that anyone who's been alive in the past three decades should know."

"Uh, well I don't know. But the drums are just too loud so could you turn it down?"

"Um, no."

Nerdy guy looks flustered and embarrassed, as people around us start to snicker. He got off at the next stop. Another guy who had heard the whole exchange then says to me, "What was that?"

I have no idea.

How Boring Am I? Here Are The Answers. Tagged - 38 Questions.

Via Zuska:

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night? Tim Riggins. (Whatever. TV characters count.)

2. What were you doing at 0800? Hitting my snooze button.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Arriving home.

4. What happened to you in 2006? Graduated from law school, passed the bar, got a job.

5. What was the last thing you said out loud? Thank you.

6. How many beverages did you have today? Coffee, lots of water, few sips of wine at post-session happy hour for the mentoring program I'm involved in.

7. What color is your hairbrush? Pewter. Fine, gray.

8. What was the last thing you paid for? Getting my hair cut.

9. Where were you last night? Home on the couch with my dog.

10. What color is your front door? Cream.

11. Where do you keep your change? Except for precious laundry quarters, in a jar on the counter.

12. What’s the weather like today? Rainy, humid, too warm.

13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor? Anything with brownie or chocolate candy bits.

14. What excites you? Lots of things. Politics. Hot men. Good movies. Good food. Leadership. Generosity. Celebrity gossip. Sometimes, even "the law."

15. Do you want to cut your hair? Just did so today. Looks pretty damn good too.

16. Are you over the age of 25? Yep.

17. Do you talk a lot? Depends. Around family, can't shut me up. With my friends, yes, but not more than anyone else. At work, a normal amount, except when I have to be really assertive in court or a deposition. In social situations where I don't know anyone, barely at all.

18. Do you watch the O.C.? Every single episode.

19. Do you know anyone named Steven? I can think of three right now.

20. Do you make up your own words? Nope.

21. Are you a jealous person? Is there a difference between jealousy and envy? I'm envious of certain people for various reasons sometimes, but the feelings don't fester and simmer.

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘A’. Got two of these.

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘K’. Got three of these.

24. Who’s the first person on your received call list? My sister.

25. What does the last text message you received say? "Take your time - I'm not there yet either."

26. Do you chew on your straw? Ew, no.

27. Do you have curly hair? Straight as straight can be.

28. Where’s the next place you’re going to? Unclear at the moment.

29. Who’s the rudest person in your life? Everyone in my life is screwed up in his or her own way, but thankfully I wouldn't classify any of them as rude.

30. What was the last thing you ate? A bowl of golden grahams with skim milk.

31. Will you get married in the future? God I hope so.

32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks? Gracie. I'm a sucker for a good inspirational sports movie.

33. Is there anyone you like right now? Sigh. After a long period of nothingness, I think I'm starting to like someone, but it's slightly inappropriate and he probably has a girlfriend anyway because anyone this perfect has to.

34. When was the last time you did the dishes? Last night. The sink must be empty for me to go to bed.

35. Are you currently depressed? Questionable. I don't think so, at least not enough to prevent me from living and being and doing. But could I be happier? Hell yes.

36. Did you cry today? No. But I did yesterday.

37. Why did you answer and post this? Zuska asked me to, so why not?

38. Tag 5 people who would do this survey. Meh. I can't decide. I invite you all to prove you're more interesting than me.

At Least I Have My Priorities In Order

My work wardrobe is in need of some beefing up. I need at least another suit, maybe a few pairs of pants, skirts, and tops to mix and match. So I went shopping after work today. In the rain. I went from one trendy store to the next, but didn't love anything I tried on. I just wasn't feeling it. And then I ended up in TJ Maxx at 18th Street and 6th Avenue, where I've occasionally found a diamond in the rough, or at least a needle in a haystack. But again, nothing. At least, nothing for work.

However, I did end up purchasing two pairs of lounge pants capable of doubling as workout wear, two sets of comfy pajamas, a synthetic long sleeve running shirt, and a fuzzy hoodie. All at very good prices. Of course, I really did not need ANY of this, as I had lots of comfy loungy fleecy things already. Oops.

I wouldn't call myself a feminist per se...

(I mean, I am, but in the good ways. The label has taken on a pejorative meaning over the years and so I can't associate with it. Anyway, a subject for another post.)

But here's the thing.

Despite the fact that the number of women in law school has outnumbered men for at least a few years now, old school attorneys (men) still draft correspondence and discovery demands as "Dear Sirs" or "Sirs" or "Attention Sirs" all the freaking time. I get at least one a week. I'm not a Sir. If you're not with it enough to use my real name, or you don't know exactly who to direct something to in the firm, how about just "Dear Counselor(s)"?

It pisses me off.
---------------------------------------------
A 10:47pm complete nonsequiter: Watching Game 1 is really making me miss Boston.

An Epiphany Regarding the Male Species

So I was flipping around and stumbled upon Beautiful Girls, one of the most underrated flicks of all time. Maybe I just hadn't seen it in a while, but the scene in the bar when Uma Thurman walks in for the first time struck me as quite informative. For those who haven't seen it (go! rent! now!), a group of high school buddies in upstate New York, all now pushing 30, are in their local hangout when Uma Thurman's character, a cousin of one of the guys, comes in to visit. The guys are literally dumbstruck by this beautiful girl. Upon being introduced to her, each one of them barely smiles, mumbles, and stares while trying not to stare.

Now the epiphany. This exact same thing has happened to me! Many times. But with my level of neurosis and self-esteem issues, I've always thought the awkwardness was because they immediately saw/guessed/knew there was something wrong with me. But it's not!

It's because I'm a beautiful girl. At least, that's what I'm gonna try to tell myself from now on, when the bubbles of doubt inevitably rise to the surface.

I suddenly don't feel as strapped.

Well, I'm still in a shitload of debt. But I'm not stupid.*

My tivo-ing of Oprah has been established.

Today's show was about personal finances and the idiots who are digging themselves into poverty. $135,000 in credit card debt. Two mortgages of $700,000. Stay at home mom who spends $4000 on a birthday party but doesn't have health insurance for her kids. $900 shoes. $400 a month on Starbucks. Yep. All on your husband's middle to upper middle class salary. Not a millionaire's salary by any means. And your "my mother never believed in me, and I've never felt any self worth and wah wah wah"...give me a fucking break, lady. Your $60/week hair extensions are ugly and sure as hell aren't giving you any self-worth either.

Financial Guru Suze Orman: "I've been doing this for a long time, and I've never seen a family in such a terrible financial situation." Yikes.

Then there's the couple expecting a baby who aren't answering the phones when their student loan providers are calling but who are paying $2600 per month on two luxury cars, but, ha, "not to impress anybody." Fuck. You don't deserve a child. (Sidebar: I have ALWAYS wondered why you need a license to do almost everything in this world except be a parent. Don't give me the "it's a natural human right" stuff. Intellectually, I know that. Morally, I want to sterilize a lot of people. Maybe the "intellectually" and "morally" should be switched. I don't know.)

Did anyone else know that Washington state has no income tax?! I've always wanted to visit Seattle. Now I may have to move there.

*I'd like to thank my parents for instilling within me a life-long stinginess.

Pooped.

I was gonna post about the bench TRIAL that I got roped into doing today. About which I was handed a whole 15 hours before it was to begin, 6 of which I spent alternately wigging out and preparing for.

But I'm too damn tired. And, at the judge's repeated strongly worded instructions, we were able to settle it. So no trial for me. Yet.

I Am So Not Sophisticated.

I'm gonna admit something that most educated professionals would decree as unacceptable. I don't love traveling. Whether it's Mexico or New Mexico, Alaska or Africa, I don't really want to go. It's not that I don't appreciate and value other cultures, traditions, cuisine, etc. I'm just kinda neurotic. I like routines. Schedules. Plans. And my money. I'd rather spend it making my home the most comfortable place it can be rather than deal with shitty exchange rates, jet lag, and geographical confusion. I think if I ever (and this is highly unlikely) have the means to not really care how much I spend on traveling, I'd probably enjoy it. But that hasn't happened yet. The two weeks I spent in Europe after the bar exam were nice, but the little "you're spending too much" bug never stopped buzzing around my head.

I do want to see this country before I really explore other countries. And I have freaking FAMILY in another country. A lot of family. Who I've never met. For various reasons having to do with my degenerate yet workaholic and brilliant yet crazy father. But I want to see Idaho. And Montana. And the fucking Grand Canyon. And actually, yes, Alaska. But when's it gonna happen? I go from one coast to the other and that's it. I'm a boring born and bred northeast chickadee who would rather spend $1000 on a TV (not that I have yet, but I'm saving) than a plane ticket. When a plane crashes, you die. When your TV crashes, you call the repair guy.

"When a girl walks in, I just don't see color." I call bullshit.

I don't watch America's Next Top Model. I don't usually pay attention to fashion news. But in an age where there seems to be a resurgence of nooses (NOOSES!) appearing from rural Louisiana to the steps of Columbia University, this article, while ostensibly limited to the fashion industry, is more than a little disturbing.

Top Five Reasons I'm a Dork

Tagged by my favorite resident of the windy city, Grace.

I'm not sure if these make me a dork or just a loser. Potentially both.

1. The only way I discover new (or sometimes old but recognizable) music is by hearing a song in a show or a movie or a damn commercial, liking it, googling it, and downloading it. (Before the digital age, buying CD singles.) I don't think I've listened to an entire album by one artist in a long time, if ever.

2. Nine times out of ten, I would rather spend a Saturday night with takeout, wine, and a dvd than be social in an actual public place where, instead of being the hot 26 year old attorney that I am, I feel like a shy 18 year old freshman at a frat party.

3. I play with my hair a lot. At my desk when I'm thinking. In court when I'm nervous. I twirl it. I flip it. It's my security blanket. My very...unprofessional security blanket.

4. I love peanut butter and jelly. I eat it for lunch like three times a week. Not just because it's cheap (and a good source of healthy unsaturated fat!) and I can then feel ok about spending money at places like Sephora, but because it makes me feel ten years old again. Ten years old with a hot new eyeliner.

5. Whenever things feel way too out of control, as soon as humanly possible I watch The Family Stone. I sometimes put it on just to help me fall asleep. I'm not sure why I feel so connected to this damn movie.

I know, I know. Therapy.

Zuska and Elle Woods, you're tagged.

Nothing a hot shower and a glass of wine won't fix.

I hate the subway sometimes. Hate. It. Maybe because I'm semi-constantly on it going from home to office or this courthouse or that courthouse. Today I was on the subway for a total of 3 hours. At least some of that time gets billed. But it doesn't make up for the inexplicable asshattery of...people. They're just people. But they suck. Standing smack in the fucking doorway when I'm trying to get on with an umbrella, files, and heels, and then giving ME the evil eye for pushing them out of the way?

Then there was the twitchy guy who kept inching closer and closer, despite it not being rush hour and thus giving each person skads of personal space. Closer, closer, closer, his arm touches my back and WHAT THE FUCK GET AWAY FROM ME ALL I WANNA DO IS MAKE IT BACK TO THE OFFICE WITHOUT CONTRACTING A DISEASE.

Sigh.

Gulp.

TV Review Time

I had a craptastic day at work (sidebar: clients who expect you to win motions should send you the signed affidavits you need to serve the motion on time, right? God.), but instead of whining (at least more than I just did), I present a review of the season's new shows:

1. Pushing Daisies: Adorable, whimsical, original, and colorful. I just don't know how long they can keep the "I want to touch you but I can't" thing going.

2. Big Shots: So, so bad. Bad writing, bad stories, not funny. But. The Pretty. Michael Vartan is pretty pretty pretty. I love the pretty, and will watch him read a phone book.

3. Journeyman: Meh.

4: Gossip Girls: Probably the worst thing for the youth of America ever. I love it.

5. Bionic Woman: Now, I'm dark and broody too, so I should like it. Secret government agencies. Girl kicking ass. I love Alias (the pretty!), but this lacks heart so far. We shall see.

6. Dirty Sexy Money: Definitely lives up to two of those three words. The middle one, not so much.

7. Private Practice: Maybe I'll catch it online. Probably not though. Because it's the suck.

And now for our returning favorites:

1. Grey's Anatomy: Does anyone else miss snide asskicking Callie? I hate whiny Callie.

2. Heroes: Where's Kristen Bell?!

3. Ugly Betty: I'm not sure why I watch this.

4. ER: Yes, I realize I'm the only person on earth who still watches ER. You know why? Because it's still excellent.

5. Brothers and Sisters: ABC should patent its wondrous ability to emotionally manipulate/abuse its viewers.

And now, once more with feeling:

The best show you're not watching.

Those Entertaining NYU Kids

So I was at a rooftop party last night. Some would call it "taking advantage of the last summer-like weekend weather." I called it "being a plus one for my friend who wanted someone with her while she made googly eyes at some crush." Too bad he didn't show up. Of course she still managed to find the one straight guy in the bunch (it was a housewarming party for a gay interior designer friend) and I'm 90% sure either went home with him or at least made out with him. This friend is kinda slutty. I love and hate her for it. Although I must say, her standards are...lower than mine. Which is why I'll die alone.

Anyway, at some point while I was mixing myself nice little cocktail (yay for gay guys an their liquor selections! So much nicer than "the beer's over there.") to keep myself entertained enough not to feel bad about the fact that the guys were dressed better than I was, I heard some hooting and hollering. Turns out there was a huge freshmen NYU dorm across the way, and those kiddies hadn't learned the most important thing about living in New York:

Close your blinds/curtains/shades.

They were going AT IT. Two boys. Imagine the excitement over on our roof. I don't think I've ever seen a bunch of people in their 20s and 30s SO RIVETED before. And kudos to those kids. It's only October! They've known each other, what, a month?

Then again, they are guys.

Would somebody please leave me a fucking comment?

I'm beginning to feel quite unloved.

People Don't Change.

At least, I don't.

A book arrived in the mail from my mother a few days ago. This book was at one time my grandmother's journal, and it contains numerous entries over the years during which she lived with us when I was young. None are very deep or interesting, mostly things like "kids opening Christmas presents. Lovely." "They're not home yet. It's getting late." My poor grandmother - she would have been the FIRST old lady with a cell phone on the block.

Anyway, later in the journal is an entry that I wrote, about a year after she passed away. It's dated December 19, 1992. I was just shy of 12 years old. Neither my mom nor I can figure out who I wrote it to or what prompted it. But what strikes me is that in 15 years, my core thoughts and emotions haven't really changed. Neither has my handwriting.

Anyway, here it is:

12/19/92

I did a lot of things that I shouldn't have done. I was selfish. I wanted too many things at once. I have to learn to be patient. But it is hard for me. I was born that way. I am and will try hard to keep what I have to say that is rude bottled up inside me. When I get angry, it's because I have my own ideas about things. I will not say anything rude to anyone. I should think before I say things, and not jump to conclusions. I should think about money before I get my mind set on buying that. I am sorry for being a "snothead" today.

Love, [redacted]

Still doing things I shouldn't? Check.
Still selfish? Sometimes.
Still impatient and wanting too many things? Yup.
Still a snothead? Absolutely.
Thinking before I say things? Well, sometimes. Professionally, and with my friends? Of course. Absolutely. Naturally. With my family? Sometimes not so much.

To the jackholes playing football in the middle of the street:

I'm trying to go to sleep at a decent hour. So please, please shut the fuck up. If you happen to be shut up by being hit by a car, even better.