Hot

I got dressed in the dark today and it wasn't until I was in a courtroom bathroom in Burnet, Texas that I realized that I was wearing navy pants and a black jacket. Maybe no one noticed, but it was mortifying on principal.

What's up with the young guy on American Idol? I haven't watched it really until tonight, but why does he always look like he's about to cry? Is he really always about to cry? Can he handle the dog-eat-dog world of show business if he's always about to cry? I'm worried about this kid. And apparently his dad will yell at him for ruining dad's living-vicariously-through-my-kid dreams. He's screwed no matter what happens.

For the second time in two weeks

And possibly the last for the next decade, I went to court. And I won. Opposing counsel was like Matlock on crack; kinda nuts. I think the best part was when he admitted he wasn't entitled to what amounted to injunctive relief, but then proceeded to orally move for summary judgment, without calling it summary judgment. Granted, I'm pretty sure a chimp could have won the hearing, but still. And I get the odd feeling that one of the senior associates at work is basically telling me to run away. Especially if I like the courtroom stuff. You know, because we don't do that. When people ask me what kind of litigation I do, I've taken to telling them that I have a vibrant motions practice. Man, I miss law school.

All is well

So I may or may not have actually screwed up last week; we can't really tell for sure. So far no one seems to have noticed. And we're just crossing our fingers that no one will.

Today I did my first courtroom thing. And only messed up like a tiny bit. I got to argue some sentencing stuff in federal court; it was a good beginner thing since we were expecting the worst and got better than that. Yay me!

Like I needed another reason to feel stupid

I've been told over and over again that, as a lawyer, I will screw up. It's just a matter of when. It's sort of like getting a new car and then waiting for the inevitable door ding. Well, it happened. And it sucked. And it was the dumbest, most rookie-ass mistake I could have made. At least when I got my first door ding, I could just relax and stop caring about door dings - when you have one, what's the biggie if you get another. Not so much with the screw-up. I just feel like a tool. No one yelled at me, though. Which is nice.

I have my first court appearance on Monday. Pray for my client. Apparently I am an idiot.

Best. Show. Ever.

So I never really got into the Real Housewives of Orange County. The Real Housewives of NYC? Totally awesome. Never underestimate the power of reality television to make you feel better about yourself because, basically, you're a good human being and not insane. You just don't know who to feel saddest for - the obvious social climbers who probably aren't ever going to be rich enough to hang out with the real money in NYC or the 40-something who dresses like she's 18 and is constantly on the verge of exposing her vajayjay to anyone on the scene at whatever ridiculuous clubs she's going to.

Not so much

Looks like a weekend not spent working wasn't in the cards for me this week. Is it just me or is litigation fun except for all the things that happen before and after the trial?

And it looks like a UT Alum will be making his home at One First Street in 2009. That should be good for like one point in the rankings, right? (Which rankings? Doesn't matter, given at least one relatively recent and proud reference to UT's high spot on dragonlaw.com's rankings. WTF?). In all seriousness, it's pretty sweet. And I have every intention of getting my Clarence Thomas autobiography into his hands for an autograph. Tacky? Tasteless? Absolutely. But the only class I have is low, so I guess I'm not bothered.

And here's yet another shout out to Frank, apparently the state's, country's, and even the world's leading expert on non-signatory estoppel. Ditch private practice and make a career of this, dude. Judging by the publishing records of some faculty, it's totally doable.

Highlight of my social calendar

Let's just say that I don't actually have much of a social calendar, which might explain why the Law Review Banquet is the highlight. But I always have a super time and last night was no exception. A perfect black taffeta shirt-dress (it has pockets; there is nothing better than a dress with pockets). I love getting dressed up and looking all fierce and if you grow you hair out, people automatically think you're prettier than you used to be and tell you how great you look. Judge Southwick seemed like a nice guy. And I told a federal court of appeals judge that she has fierce hair (what? She is still a woman and maybe, just maybe, she appreciated someone going to the shallow instead of just kissing her robed ass?). The best part? The lady trying to hook Nate up with a bevy of college-age beauties. It was the weirdest thing ever. He's such a stud.

Minimal work this weekend, I hope. Trying to not hate your existence is hard when your weekend gets fucked with.

It's really worse than blowing up babies?

As if we needed it, license to make fun of all things Oklahoma is hereby granted, thanks to the latest federal legislator from that state to go on a homophobic rant. I thought Coburn was a little off his nut when decrying the apparently rampant lesbianism in Oklahoma schools, but Sally Kern is apparently really bat-shit crazy. Did you know that homosexuality is a bigger threat than al Qaeda?? I'd like to thank Rep. Kern for reminding me why I have never actually voted republican in a major election despite the fact that I am decidedly not a democrat. I'd like for John McCain (if he must be the nominee) to stand up and just admit that he actually doesn't give two shits about the "gay agenda," that the one thing not keeping him up at night is the "gay agenda," and that, dammit, members of the base for whom this is such an issue can go screw themselves. The two-party system blows.

Work hasn't been awesome for a few weeks, but I think it should be an on upswing this coming week. It has to. Or I might die. Last week was salvaged when I was sprung from my doc review to go to an ACL taping in the middle of the afternoon. The only downside was the new pair of four-inch heels I was breaking in that day. By the time Michael Stipe was done doing what he does, I couldn't feel my toes. But the shoes are super cute. And I think we all know that cuteness is all that matters when it comes to shoes.

Karma's sort of broken

We've all met those people who apparently feel it necessary to make other people look or feel bad to make themselves look or feel better. I'd like to think that karma's a bitch, blah, blah, blah and that surely such people don't get ahead. But I think we all know that they do get ahead and that they probably actually get quite far. At least the smart ones. Unless these people end up with nasty cases of athlete's foot that I don't know about, karma doesn't actually seem to be a bitch. And that sucks.

One more for the WTF column

Went to hang out near the finish line at today's marathon (big ups to my sister- and father-in-law for crossing the finish line, especially since the SIL's shoe was apparently filled with blood). As an homage to the runners, wore my most comfortable and sporty heels (I no longer own cute jeans short enough for flats, except for my skinny jeans, and who wears skinny jeans to a marathon??). On the way to the t-shirt tent, I spotted the Crocs truck. Featuring a photo of a high-heeled Croc. Why, why, why? You can either wear heels or you can wear Crocs. There is no best of both worlds here. Nike Air + heels = stylish engineering genius. Crocs + heels = nasty, plastic heels. You can't hide a Croc in a heel. It's very Croc-ness makes it inappropriate for heel form.

In other news, I totally rode up the elevator the other day sort of staring at this guy's butt, fascinated by its sheer flatness. It was like a pancake in a pair of pants. I felt a little sheepish until I realized that my co-worker was starting and thinking the exact same thing.

Work it!

I have to give a presentation tomorrow. On any topic I want. Which is sorta hard. I have decided to talk about why high heels are bad for you, but why I wear them every day. Turns out, unless you're rocking some orthopedics, women's shoes generally seem to be bad for the feet. So why not go for the heels? I believe in the power of high heels to make me walk like a bad-ass. I actually returned a pair of perfectly good heels the other day because they were too short. I'm to the point where I need a minimum of three inches strapped to the bottom of my feet Monday through Friday. Sure, the whole thing started because I was too lazy to go get my dress pants tailored. But I'm a convert. A true believer.

Of course, in doing my research for my shoe presentation, I stumbled across an online debate and am *shocked* to learn that I like to wear heels only because I have been brainwashed by a misogynistic culture that seeks to objectify me by making me wear shoes I can't run in. I guess I know what people with womyn's studies degrees from Yale debate and think about all day*.... Get jobs, people!! And, no, "freelancer" is not a job without an additional descriptor!

I actually read 2 books in January. Finally got my hands on the Clarence Thomas autobiography (don't hate). Then did Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield in one day. I laughed, I cried. It was super. Next on my list is Living to Tell the Tale, the first volume of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's memoirs. He's my favorite, favorite, favorite of all time. Talk to me in six months and maybe I'll have finished half the book.

* I know plenty of women's studies majors. Unless they went to Yale, I wasn't talking about them.

Too good to be true

I left work on Friday night convinced that my long weekend would surely be interrupted with follow-up questions and requests for more research, etc.... I haven't heard a peep. I'm convinced that the network is down or something because I can't possibly be this lucky, can I?

Head's up ladies - if you're old enough to vote, you're too old to wear anything that could accurately be described as a jumper. Just tossing that out there....

Wii Wish You a Merry Christmas

I made out like a bandit for Christmas. Some iPod speakers for the office, a Fergie CD (I really, really tried to resist, but she is Fergilicious), and a Wii. The Wii is pretty fun. For people like me, it's quite a workout. I am very, very bad at it, though.

The festive holiday mood went a little sour when we discovered that my fat, dumb cat was peeing in a closet. I'm pretty sure Mr. Raisins' scuba vest won't recover. The thing smells like shit. Opie is such a dumb-ass.

And now, fun wedding pics...

I love this one. I'm laughing because Mr. Raisins has just shown me his sock garters. He was very proud of his sock garters.

This picture is just so damn cute... There weren't many kids at my wedding. The ones there quickly formed a blonde-brigade and took over the swing.

I think this is my favorite of all the wedding pictures.

That's my sister helping me with my dress. I love my dress.

Why is the bride posing like that? What's she looking at? Well, the photographer told her to and she's looking at the cars pass by on MLK.

Ho, Ho, . . . forget it

Merry Christmas Eve! Are you working? I am! Luckily, it's from home. And luckily I have a case of writer's block of the I-don't-know-enough-about-this-case-to-write-a-good-brief variety. I'm really not complaining though because I thought the work situation would be much worse than it really is. And I could theoretically not work at all over the holidays, but I fear the consequences of that decision.

So far I have had a decent December. The weekends have mostly been all mine. Got my shopping done mostly on time. I like how "mostly" has become sort of the best I can hope for these days when it comes to my personal life.

Today I would like to send a shout-out to Jennifer Love Hewitt. She was raked over the coals recently by a celebrity tabloid so skeezy that even I won't read it (okay, I might read it, like at the salon, but I wouldn't ever buy it, unless they were out of Us Weekly and People) because she's an untoned size 2. Of course, I think it's cruel to splash unflattering images of any woman across the pages of a magazine for the purpose of us all having a good laugh at her expense. But I would like to thank her for bringing to the public's attention the little-known fact that chubby comes in all shapes and sizes. Even a humble size 00 can have an impressive jelly roll across the middle and battles the belly button shadow that inevitably happens when gut meets a cotton t-shirt. Some of us just come in small packages, and I don't know know why we don't expand. But, cut us open and do we not bleed cheese? The answer is yes; some of us do, in fact, bleed cheese (and assorted preservatives).

Yes, I'm too busy to post

Apologies to all ten of you who read this blog for the radio silence. I've been working like a demon lately and when I'm not working, I'm slumped on my couch trying not to think of anything but the crap I'm watching. I'm ashamed to say that the most substantive thing I've read since starting work is a few issues of Vanity Fair. And I even find that to be taxing. Still trying to figure out this whole work-life balance thing. I'm fairly convinced it's a myth.

But I'm not complaining. Work so far is good. I mean, it's not like I'm being counted on to crush a witness anytime soon or anything, but it's about what I expected, in a good way.

Now for today's random observation. I'm reading some article about these people in a remote part of India. Apparently it's a majority-Christian population, but there's a percentage of the population that thinks that its people are descendants of one of the lost tribes of Israel. Cool with me. Who says one of the lost tribes didn't make a turn somewhere and end up in India? Anyways, the article is really annoying because it keeps saying that these people think that they're Jews. Granted, I don't technically know the rules about being Jewish and I'm pretty sure I can't turn around tomorrow and declare myself Jewish (could I? I really don't know the rules here). But what's up with qualifying these people's religious beliefs by saying that they think they're Jewish, especially if they've been doing this Jewish thing for a while now? I find it off-putting.

In other news, I've been shopping like a demon lately; all bargains, though. I questioned the hubby's need for a new jacket, saying he already had one. He proceeded to open the hall closet and count my jackets. I maintain that they're good for work;a jacket hides the fact that you really are wearing your favorite $20 t-shirt to work. There's nary a windbreaker in the entire collection. But I still felt a little sheepish.

crappy music made crappier

Given my taste in music, I'm barely ashamed to admit I like a Fergie song. But I do. The slow one that's good sing-a-long stuff in the car. What I don't like is when I think I hear the song, but it turns out to be some shitty techno/hip-hop remix. I mean really, what's with the need to take a perfectly good song and add annoying and weird club music on top of it? I'm not going to say that I get dance or club music (or whatever it's called), but why, God, why do it badly and why do radio stations play this crap?

I'm officially a married woman. The wedding went off almost without a hitch and I only had to pull a bridezilla once (and for a very good reason). I got a little stressed out here and there, but 2 hours before the wedding I was laying in my bed at the hotel with my sister and sisters-in-law watching Say Yes to the Dress. My dress fit perfectly - I could eat and barely breathe. My awesome Stuart Weitzman's didn't really start to hurt until the end of the night; pretty good for four-inch heels. Not too shabby, I'd say. Not that I ever want to plan a wedding ever again. Or a party, for that matter. I took the Monday after the wedding off (okay, I did some doc review on the couch) while the hubby worked diligently on school stuff. I've been working lawyer hours for the past week, including some good time at the office this weekend. Good stuff, though. And hopefully I won't screw it up.

Oh happy day!!

So I worked this weekend. It wasn't all that bad - just a few hours each day. And the people we were working for were kind enough to verbalize their appreciation. But that's not the good news. My red shoes are here! And they are awesome. Even better, my new purse arrived today. Black croc. With three distinct pockets, which will hopefully help me avoid the whole black hole thing. I will be delighted when I can get to work and manage to find my badge to get in without having to set down my coffee, put my purse on the ground, remove my wallet, checkbook, hair brush, and planner, and finally dig out my badge, which was in the side pocket all along. And it was 40% off. I am the idiot those marketing people have in mind because, you see, when I use a coupon or take advantage of a deal, I'm not spending money so much as I'm saving money. And I am the greedy, materialistic consumer who keeps our economy chugging along. Just doing my patriotic duty.

Yours is cool, too

Know what I don't get? When people get put off by someone's belief that their religion is better than someone else's. Now, I'm not talking about people who walk around talking like they've got a some sort of direct line to Saint Peter and somehow knows who's on the naughty or nice list. But just someone who believes what they believe and happens to also think that they're right. I saw some guy on the news who was apparently put off not only by the fact that Mitt Romney is Mormon, but the fact that the Mormon Church thinks it's the one true church. I mean, is this something to be horrified by??* Don't most churches think that they're the bees' knees?? And why shouldn't a Mormon think his faith is the right one? I mean, if he thought the Catholics had it right, he'd probably be Catholic and not Mormon.


That's enough for serious thought (and by "serious," I clearly mean making a superficial observation on a subject that I am normally loath to engage). Today was jeans day at work. The firm does these things during charity fundraising drives, letting us pay five bucks in exchange for wearing jeans on Friday. I always pay because I bought some cute Citizens of Humanity jeans that I don't get to wear enough because it's pretty rare for me to wear jeans on the weekend that require heels and, now that I'm working, I can't really wear them during the week, either. And no one likes to see cute, over-priced denim go to waste, especially when there are so many starving children. Bottom line is that coma-inducing doc review is always better in jeans. I don't think there's another jeans day for a while. Apparently I could maybe wear jeans every Friday if I was in IP. You know, because if you're smarter than everyone else, you also get to be more comfortable. Thanks for that P.R. degree, U.T. (a B.S. in P.R. = priceless).


* At least if the person horrified is a member of a church that thinks it's the one true church? Many people may very well be horrified at the notion of religious people thinking that their beliefs are the absolutely right ones. But I never understood the disbelief of religiously minded people at the notion that others can believe in their own thing just as strongly as someone else believes in something different.

Something will go wrong

All the wedding stuff has been too easy as of late. I ordered my food over the internet. We figured out the centerpieces (cheap buckets from IKEA plus pre-made bouquets that eliminate the need to arrange). I got my shoes - a pretty sweet pair of Stuart Weitzmans. I found Jamie's ring on eBay (and it's not some divorced guy's ring with all kinds of bad chi in it). I still have to figure out dessert and buy booze. And I think that's it. Surely it's not this easy. Surely something will go wrong.

I also found a pretty sweet pair of red, round-toe, patent leather pumps. They caught my eye and screamed for me to buy them. So I did. Only bad part is that the store didn't have my size, so they're being shipped to me, which totally eliminates the instant gratification thing. But the shoes are pretty awesome, so I'll make it. I've been trying to kick the quality of my footwear up a notch. If I'm going to insist on wearing heels that will eventually give me corns, bunions, and a little hammertoe, they should look high-end. But I can't go super high-end and the levels of ridiculousness involved. I mean, I'm sure Christian Louboutins are great and all, but I'm not spending 2 car payments on a pair of pumps. One car payment, maybe. But two is just silly....

Made of goo

I sometimes say that I'm made of cheese and preservatives on the inside. I decided that I wanted killer arms for the wedding, so I thought I'd do some push-ups to get a little more cut. Jamie and I bet $5 over whether I could do 20 push-ups (and not the kind where you're on your knees). Turns out 2 was just about all I could handle. So I guess I really am made of cheese and preservatives. It's really quite sad. I want to get into some kind of shape, but I haven't quite figured out how to work it into my schedule. One of these days.