It's been a while.

Time for more subway tales.

3 pm. Post court appearance. Waiting for the #4 train to get back to the office. Police activity on the platform. It's unclear what the hell is going on, but when the train arrives, no one is allowed to get on. Why? Because, according to the esteemed NYPD officers on duty, there has been some kind of "immediate threat" that warrants action.

Or, inaction, as you will. The train sat there empty for nearly 30 minutes. Now, I was perfectly happy to wait because I get to bill all travel time, no matter the clusterfuck that is the NYC subway system. So I'm standing there, leaning against the wall tapping my foot to my music and browsing some paperwork, when one of the officers taps me on the shoulder and says, "Ma'am, we don't know how long this is going to take so you might want to take a different route." My reply: "Oh, that's ok, any other route would take twice as long anyway so I'll just wait here."

And then there it was:

"Well, if you want you could come wait in the police booth with me. Those shoes sure don't look very comfortable."

Ok, they weren't very comfortable, but I wasn't about to reciprocate any flirting just because my feet were about to fall off.

Another 10 minutes passed, the train left empty, another one arrived, and I was on my way. Frankly, a little freaked out hoping I wasn't about to be blown up, but on my way nonetheless. And then, walking up the few steps in the lobby of my office building, I TWISTED MY ANKLE IN THE DAMN SHOES I WAS WEARING.

I think God is punishing me for rejecting a man's advances.

I'm now Facebook friends with people I went to elementary school with.

Weird.

Live Blogging the Oscars

I'm not gonna lie. A few people were supposed to come over and watch with me, and for various reasons they're not coming. (Fine, one of them had to go to the ER with another friend. I GUESS that's a good excuse.) But I have a lot of wine and a lot of bitterness over reading deposition transcripts all day, so you all are going to be the ones I take it out on. Ready set go.

Barbara Walter's Special: I now realize that Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus are one and the same. My life is complete.

8:32 pm:

Jon looks yummy. George Clooney's girlfriend is... kind of ugly. At least weird looking. Am I alone in this thought? Ooh, lawyer joke! Jennifer Garner! I love you. Be my friend. Even though your hair is confusing me right now.

8:47:

80 years of Oscar. With ET music! And...Celine Dion. Ann Hathaway is taller than Steve Carell. Hee. Katherine Heigl has so much old school glam I can't stand it. Amy Adams is absolutely adorable. As was Enchanted.

9:10:

The Rock is an Oscar presenter? Um, really? Is The Golden Compass one of those Christian allegory stories? Am I thinking of Narnia? I hated those books. Whatever. Cate Blanchette, you're very pretty, but you look like you have a snake around your neck. Should I add Sweeney Todd to the "saved" section of my Netflix queue?

Oooh the first acting award and we need...a clip show introduction? Fine. Oh my god LETS GET ON WITH IT. HAHAHA Cuba Gooding Junior! How are those Hanes underwear commercials coming? Oh, Jennifer Hudson. That dress...

Javier Bardem is...sexy. I should see that movie. Although I hope he's not sexy as a killer. Aw, his mama! Love it.

9:24:

Aww, Hi Felicity. Keri Russell is pretty. Owen Wilson! Hey buddy! You look good. Hope you're feeling good. And the winner for Best Supporting Actress is...Alan Arkin? No. Tilda Swinton? Really? It was a nice performance, but I call bullshit. Amy Ryan all the way.

9:44:

"The always fabulous Jessica Alba." Hee. Who thinks that pregnancy was planned? Raise your hand. No one? Best screenplay: Not Atonement not Atonement not Atonement not Atonement not Atonement...and the winner is... phew, not Atonement.

When is the In Memoriam tribute? I LOVE that part. I know, morbid much? Heath is gonna be at the end, right?

John Travolta is a member of the actors' branch of the Academy? Hmm. Is Tom Cruise a member too? Is L. Ron Hubbard telling them how to vote?

Wow, Kristin Chenowith should go back to Broadway. Aaron Sorkin is at home crying right now.

10:01:

I think winners for Sound Editing should sound better in their acceptance speech.

Oooh Best Actress! Marion Cotillard is very pretty too. I don't really care about seeing that movie though. Although I'm sure it's better than that dreck she did with Russell Crowe a couple years ago. I want Juno to win something.

10:20:

Once. That's a sweet song. Ugh. Jack. 80 years of Best Picture. Someone I know who does magazine retouching said Renee Zellweger is the one who needs the most touchups. Aww. Nicole Kidman is regal. I don't care what you say. Someone needs to tell this honorary Oscar winner (I forgot his name already) that he doesn't need to wear the scarf indoors.

During commercials I'm switching to ABC Family to watch The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. The sequel arrives this summer. Don't tell me you're not excited.

10:41:

I wonder what Penelope Cruz thinks of Tom now? I'm guessing something along the lines of "thank god I got out alive."

Patrick Dempsey! Hey Derek! How's Meredith? When are you guys coming back with new episodes? Aw Enchanted has to win for one of the songs. Alan Menkin wrote Aladdin's songs, which I think might have been the first soundtrack I bought at 11 years old.

Ladies and gentlemen, John Travolta. Stop dancing. That gravy train has passed. Ok...no Enchanted songs. Once. HAHAHA I love Jon Stewart.

10:56:

Aww, she got a chance to come back out and give a speech! Yay. Hillary Swank is pretty. OOH IN MEMORIAM TIME. And Heath as that angsty cowboy dude brings up the rear. No pun intended. Fuck it's 11 pm and I feel like some of the big awards are still to come.

11:08:

Best original score...ok Atonement sucked donkey balls, but the score was very good. Probably the only reason I felt something throughout the film. I give it my vote. Yay I won! Oh Tom Hanks, you two time Oscar winner. Your hairline is receding big time. Hello Soldiers stuck in Baghdad! Vote for Obama and come home soon!

11:24:

Harrison Ford mmmmmm. YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY JUNO!! Diablo Cody is a former stripper! Yay strippers! Yay Ellen Page! Yay Jason Reitman! And I want to thank my family for loving me exactly the way I am! Holla!

Wow. Helen Mirren is beautiful. Daniel Day Lewis seems like such a nice man when he's being himself, but the rumors that he never comes out of character when he's doing a film is...weird. Cameron Diaz said she never knew him as anything but Bill the Butcher when they were filming Gangs of New York. I can't decide if that's just plain strange, or conceited, or both. I'm not an actor, so I'm gonna say both.

11:40:

Another montage? THIS IS WHY IT'S SO LONG and we're all gonna be tired tomorrow at work.

Do you think Martin Scorcese's optometrist ever suggested he get contacts? I bet Marty shot him.

Can the Coen brothers do anything without each other? Come on guys, even Mary Kate and Ashley have made the break.

It's difficult to say this, but Denzel isn't really rocking the shaved head look. A symmetrical face doesn't make up for a large head. Ok ok ok.

Best Picture: The Coen brothers again. And they'll be snarky and not have anything to say again. A complete surprise? Shut up and don't be fake-shocked. Yes, I'm gonna see your movie now.

Fuck I have to work like 8 million hours tomorrow. Kill me.

My fever is down! Happy birthday to me!

I've been dying a slow and painful death the last few days with a nasty stomach flu. Scary hallucinatory dreams, hugging the toilet, the works.

But I went to work today, for all of a few hours.

Hence, my billable hours for February are pitiful. March is reallllly gonna suck to make up for it, although maybe I won't have to make up shit to do half the time because I'll be starting MY OWN TRIAL in a few weeks. Yes, people. The time has come. The thing is, although we all know there are now more female lawyers than male ones, the trial still unfortunately seems to be a man's arena. I shouldn't worry about this - clearly there are lots of things to worry about - so I'm just gonna have to be the one to break the mold, right?

I canceled birthday dinner plans because I still can't really eat anything. Saltines and gatorade it is.

Tagged! A meme.

Courtesy of Grace.

I'm afraid this is going to be really boring because I'm not all that interesting, but here goes:

The Rules: Pick one past posting about each of the following:

Family.
Friends.
Yourself.
Something you love.
Something you choose.

1. Family: God I hate them sometimes. But sometimes is better than most of the time, right?

2. Friends: Okay, it's more about a guy than my friends, but my friends are just too cool for school, ok?

3. Me: Because if I post one of the worst, it can only get better. Or worse. Whatever.

4. Something I love: Um, this one's easy.

5. By Choice: because this one inspired some funny comments.

See, I'm fucking boring. But I'm going skiing in the Poconos this weekend with some friends. Hopefully I won't fracture anything. See, I'm all about the positive thinking.

I'm tagging all of you. Do it. DO IT.

My birthday is next week. I think I'm turning 80.

I'm pretty sure it's not normal that my leg feels better when running than when walking or going down steps. Apparently I'm potassium and calcium deficient. But I kind of hate bananas (it's not that I hate them - they just have to be eaten at the perfect time - over or under ripe bananas are gross) and don't drink milk outside of cereal. Spinach has calcium, right? Why isn't that enough?

On another note, I dvr old episodes of ER that are on TNT in the mornings. I erase most of them, but do watch the classic ones. Like the one that was on today, when Dr. Greene goes to Hawaii with Rachel and dies and it's quite possibly the saddest thing I've ever seen ever and it was such a momentous event that NBC allowed Anthony Edwards to say the word "shit" on network television.

This was a very boring post. Then again, I am almost 80 years old.

This has nothing to do with what I posted earlier. But, no matter your view on abortion, it's a fascinating article.

I definitely made the right decision. I think.

During the winter of my senior year of college, I had the world's most perfect kiss. I was at a party, and I spotted him across the room. He was sitting in a reclining chair, with his leg propped up. He was on the soccer team and had broken it scoring the winning goal of a game, although I wouldn't find this out until later.

I kept staring at him, and eventually he motioned me over to sit down next to him. We talked for hours, although I don't remember anything except his blue, blue eyes. Eventually he offered to walk me home, and although I demurred due to his broken leg and crutches and the fact that it was 20 degrees outside, he insisted, and so we walked. Well, I walked. He hobbled.

And outside my door, in a simple and natural movement that both took me by surprise and swept me off my feet, he kissed me. And I felt myself float upward. He wrote my number on his hand, smiled, and hobbled down the street.


I never heard from him again.

Until Friday night at my friend's birthday party. I recognized the guy in an instant. It took five years of overlapping social circles, but there he was.

And I didn't go near him this time.

I'm all for this cliche.

When my mother is sending me the Obama "Yes We Can" video, you know it has made the rounds. Of course I doubt she knows who half the people are who are in the video.

I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off today. And will again tomorrow. If all works out, I'll tell ya'll about it then.

It's Super! Tuesday.

If I hear "we can now project that Clinton/Obama/McCain/Romney/Huckabee will win the state of X" one more time, I may throw something at my new TV. So I should probably change the channel and check back in later.

I'm supposed to be finding caselaw for my boss for trial tomorrow. But he only called me an hour ago, after I had just gotten home and poured myself a glass of wine.

I'm clearly not pouring the wine back in the bottle.

This title means nothing.

I've started and erased about three posts in the last few days. I'm not sure what's going on with me. I have too much to say and nothing to say at the same time. I could bitch about work, or my friends, or my family, or the fact that I should know better than to watch Mary Matalin on Meet the Press if I want to have a pleasant Sunday morning.

I turned down an invitation to a Superbowl party where, although it would be full of objectively horrid people, at least there would be people. But why should I subject myself to a bunch of guys who haven't surpassed the mental age of 20 even though they're creeping up on 30 and girls who refuse to eat a slice of bread but eat cereal by the boxful (uh, it's still carbs, you know), drink like fish, and for some godforesaken reason still manage to incite jealousy within me over their ability to seem perfect and carefree. I had lunch with a friend yesterday who has recently become involved with a guy she works with. And she's lost, at least for now, all of her sarcasm, cynicism, and everything we used to bond over. It's like Miranda turned into Charlotte. And I hate Charlotte. I guess I'm happy for her. But I kind of don't want to see her for a while.

I took Chloe on an hour and a half walk today (hence the current snoring on my leg), and stopped for a while at the pier near the 79th Street Boat Basin. I sat there, sort of outside myself, and marveled at the fact that I had become a movie cliche. I half-expected some warbled-voiced songbird to start singing over my head like in those movies where the plot development sucks but when serious music plays you know you're supposed to be feeling something. And just like in those movies, I'm sure I felt SOMETHING but I don't know the hell what it was.