January is rough.

There's snow everywhere.




However, the cold has won out over my fear of burning my apartment building down.



There's also this.




She makes the cold warmer and the heat cooler. Yes she does.

(Yes, I have bars on my windows. I live in a nice neighborhood, but it's still on the ground floor, ok?)

Right on schedule.

I get this way every year around the 4th of July. I'm ready for fall already. Sweaters, crisp air, crunchy leaves. Ahh.

And it's so far away.

I bet you're already left for the long weekend, huh?

Packing for three days shouldn't be that much of a challenge. But when there's going to be a 25 degree temperature change during the three days, it's really fucking annoying. I thought we were done with the damn 60s temperatures for the year. God.

Also making me bitter is the fact that I have to lug my damn rolling bag with me to court tomorrow morning. Logistically, there's just no other way to do it. It's only a scheduling conference, which rarely requires even seeing the judge. Definitely no heels. Maybe not even a full suit. Scandalous!

Happy Thanksgiving to all. Try not to eat too much, and only drink enough to make the insanity/stupidity/passive aggressiveness around you turn warm and fuzzy from its usual quality of nails on a chalkboard.

See you on the flip side. That is if I survive Penn Station on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

I HATE unseasonably hot weather.

More than I dislike hot weather in general.

It's almost October. It shouldn't be 87 degrees today. As per usual, I'm blaming George Bush. My air conditioner had a nice week long break, and I was looking forward to the lower bill, and now I have to turn it on again for poor little furry Chloe. Yes, she has plenty of water, but she's 14 (in three days - ah!), and I'm a sap.

Monsoon Season, Drooling, and Don Imus

Fine, it's a "nor'easter." Whatever. That's a dumb word. The pup and I went out about 8:30 this morning, and she's still kinda wet. And we were outside for maybe 7 minutes. Rainy Sundays are awesome, but this is ANGRY weather.

Why was I up at 8:30 when I went to bed at 4? My friend who stayed over had to leave early to get back to the Jers and she forgot her wallet so I had to let her back in. I'll just go to bed really early tonight to set me up for the week.

Oh boy. I have a headache. Maybe I'm a little hungover, although I only had a couple glasses of wine and a frozen cosmo (with a strawberry cut like a flower in it - it was awesome). I hate being hungover. I just took 3 Excedrin Migraine. I'm hardcore when it comes to pain meds. I brought some "do it when you have time but it's not a huge priority until the X depositions" research home with me that I thought I would do today to, emailing cases to my boss on a Sunday being a good thing, but I just don't think it's gonna happen. I think couch surfing, napping, and day dreaming about the beautiful beautiful beautiful men I ogled last night will be enough for today. Seriously, the girls and I were drooling. And dancing all night to Madonna in the completely awesome and non-threatening environment surrounded by, I'll say it again, beautiful men.

I want some eggs. Yeah. I'm hungover. I kind of hate eggs.

On an unrelated but in your face issue of the week, once again, Frank Rich hits it spot on.

The verdict on March: still a lion.

The weatherman just said, "If you don't have to leave the house, stay where you are."

Who am I to disobey?

I just can't do the Friday night meet at 10pm thing. After work drinks, yes. But when I'm already home after a hellish freezing wet commute and in my pajamas? No. Tomorrow is another day, and friend of mine will be in town, so I'm sure I'll make it out then.

That is, if I can force myself off my new dark brown buttery leather sofabed that arrives in the morning! (Another reason to stay in tonight - it's coming between 8 and noon.)

It's (not) beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

I've just read two posts about how the first day of December has brought lovely snow to the blogger's respective locales. It is currently 64 DEGREES IN BOSTON. The temperature is supposed to drop tonight and snow is in the forecast for next week, but seriously, WTF!? No one loves winter more than I do!

I have some shopping to do this weekend. I need a nice professional winter coat for interviews and eventually work. My pea coat, which I've had since high school, is looking pretty weary, and does in fact make me look like I'm still in high school. (Of course, this is apparently not hard to do since when I was at the supermarket the other day, albeit in jeans, sneakers, a sweatshirt, and a ponytail, I was mistaken for a high school student by someone collecting money for the football team.)

So, I need a nice coat. And a new skirt suit and some nice professional jewelry, according to my mom. I suppose I agree that skirt suits are more sophisticated for interviews than pantsuits (damn sexists) and since I only have a couple that are neither gray nor black, I need another one. My Ann Taylor credit card has had a nice long break, so I guess it's time to whip it out again.

My sister (who left Stanford 6 credits short of graduating and still makes more money than I bet I will in my first real job) is asking about Christmas presents for this year, and I really just want to skip the whole thing. Everyone knows I don't have any money, and although this will be the last year where this will be the case, the idea of our usual gluttonous spending makes me ill. That doesn't mean that I don't want some work clothes and a couple of dvds, but why not just wait for all the after-Christmas sales? I think since deep down the only thing I want for Christmas is a job that I like and pays me what I'm worth, anything else seems trivial.

You know what's not trivial, though? Christmas music. Every time I hear Carol of the Bells it makes me think of Home Alone and how great Christmas was as a kid.