You Thought He Was the One to Save You

current state of mind: practically perfect in every way

Roll around this roundabout

Oh yeah

Take me to our best friend’s house

I loved you then and I love you now

~ ‘Tongue Tied’ by Group Love

It should be noted that I do not like cemeteries; even at funerals, I seldom get out of the car to stand graveside.  There is one exception to this blanket “no cemetery” rule.  Two to three times a year, I visit one grave to leave flowers, pull some weeds, and ‘have a chat’ per se.  Yesterday, I left a bouquet of white flowers.  The weather was cold and rainy; fitting weather for the 21^st anniversary of a child’s death.  Unlike in years past, however, I knew that I would likely be the only visitor of the day.  I took great care in removing all of the weeds growing around the marker stone and verified that the decorations around the stone were anchored securely, so as not to fall over.  Once the obligatory ‘chores’ were finished, I followed the same pattern that I have followed since that first visit so many years ago.  I traced my fingers over the raised letters of the stone.  I touched his portrait, protected by plexi-glass, and I told him how very much he is missed and loved.  As always, before leaving, I whispered a short prayer, more for my sake than his, and I walked away. 

This ritual is one I have followed so many times before, yet it never loses any of its significance to me.  I don’t ‘just go through the motions’.  Each act is deliberate and thoughtful.  For years, I did these things because I was filled with such sadness that the ceremonial visits were the only way I could release some of the pain.  Now, I do them because his father has joined him and his mother has moved away to be closer to her living family.  It means a great deal to me to know that when his mother returns to her son’s resting place that it is in a condition which shows that her son has not been forgotten. 

My ‘own’ children are 14; the same age as I was when the loss of a friend irreparably changed my life.  Four years ago I sat in my apartment, surrounded by boxes and I wrote about my friend and guilt and unfulfilled promises.  http://geniusinwonderland.blogspot.com/2008/04/cobwebs-and-dark-days.html Since that posting, I have been granted multiple opportunities to live and love – and I have chosen to pull some people closer when I would have rather pushed them away.  I am still afraid, sometimes, of losing people; and I feel compelled to ask for reassurance from those I love.  Overall, however, I have lived a promise two decades in the making.  And for that I am grateful. 

PUBLIC NOTE: Forgive yourself for something out of your control and hug someone because you can.

PERSONAL NOTE:  Things could be worse.  You could live with her.  Oh, wait, you do.  Hahahahaha

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  Now you know why I don’t filter even when I should.  I cannot wait to see you.

The Wisdom of a Fool Won’t Set You Free

current state of mind: misillusioned (it’s like disillusioned; but not really)

So take me downtown on the company dime

Punch me in the arm, make sure I’m alive

I need a weekend, gotta kick out the dust

Get my motor running cause it’s started to rust

~ ‘Downtown’ by Eve 6

I have a lot of flaws.  Seriously, I do.  

Don’t misunderstand; this is not a cry for help or a request for compliments.  I believe we are all pretty much “half jerk and half jewel”; so I am aware of my good traits.  For the moment, however, we are going to look at two of my least favourite faults.  This will be a productive exercise for my benefit only.  You will likely get nothing out of this experience.  My suggestion is that you stop reading now and pick things back up about two paragraphs down.  You can thank me later.

K-shrub often calls me out on the fact that I am a picker.  I pick at my cuticles, finger nails, toe nails, and any polish on the aforementioned nails.  I used to wear acrylics, which eliminated the picking and biting for the most part; except after one perfectly manicured acrylic nail would chip.  Moments after one had a flaw, I would find myself surrounded by pieces of shattered acrylic and my fingers would hurt from the damage I sub-consciously inflicted.  Lately, I have been working very diligently toward NOT biting or picking.  I was doing well until school started again.  Now, I fear that I will have to resort back to “Hoof Hands: Stop The Bite Kick The Habit”.  It is the most vile chemical man has created; however, it is extremely effective.  Last time it took two sub-conscious nail biting attempts to stop me from biting my nails for over a month.  Good gourd!

Another flaw that needs to be addressed is my inability to wake up without the help of two alarms, a dog, and sometimes a phone call or two.  The Sleep Monster is a monkey I haven’t been able to get off my back for YEARS!  I fully comprehend that my poor wake-up habits are caused by my poor sleeping habits.  I grasp the connection and fully acknowledge that I should probably “suck it up” and visit a sleep specialist.  I think my insurance covers it, actually.  I just don’t see how going to some “clinic” will actually make me sleep.  I already have drugs that I can take to sleep.  They make me sleep too well.  I sleep through alarms, meetings, etc.  Plus they make me groggy as heck if I don’t get a full 9 hours between when I take them and when I wake up.  Not helpful!  What I need is a designated “wake-up” person who can be my personal human alarm.  I think that would be preferable to whatever the sleep doctor could suggest!  I wonder if insurance covers this plan . . . any takers?

Alright, so you can continue reading now that I have that dumped out of my brain.  It was taking up valuable real estate and I don’t have time to keep filtering redundant crap so that I actually accomplish something.  For those who missed the picture, I now have another beautiful adornment on my skin.  This one is a Knights Templar cross on my left foot.  And for those of you who read the news, that nut job in Norway is not actually a Templar Knight.  He is a mentally unstable, homicidal maniac who happened to read The DaVinci Code.  Side Note: If you are going to commit a crime, do so in those Scandinavian countries where prisons are like Ikeas (not a joke) and vampires blend in with the natives (kind of a joke).  

Word to your mothers.

PERSONAL NOTE:  I miss you so very much.   Where have the past 21 years gone, my friend? 

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  So, K-shrub mentioned that her wireless network used to be named Charlemagne.  She told me this today, out of the blue.  Silly coincidence!

No Shoes, No Shirt . . . I Work Out!

current state of mind: giddy

When I walk in the Spot

This is what I see

Everybody stops

And is staring at me

~ ‘Sexy and I Know It’ by LMFAO

Those who know me, even casually, are well aware that I am slightly high-strung.  Who am I kidding?  Anyone who has ever met me can ascertain within the first 5 minutes that I have pretty high self-expectations, which cause me to be more than “slightly high-strung”.  I also tend to look unkindly upon those who tell me that I need to calm down, relax, or chill.  I mean, seriously, when has telling someone to calm down ever actually calmed them down?  If anything, it makes me more stressed out. 

Case in point:  The other day I was pretty stressed preparing for my little sister’s wedding reception.  I wanted everything to go as perfectly as it could since it was her very special day.  I was a little ‘worked-up’ and venting to a friend about it.  He told me I needed to “chill”.  I responded to that with a text that clearly stated how I feel about being told to chill.  His response was as follows: 

“Uh . . . . okay . . . So me telling you to chill out over the fact that you don't like being told to chill out is not cool?”

With that simple text, I relaxed and realized how ridiculous I was being.  It was a beautiful, happy occasion and it would be perfect because my sister and her new husband would be surrounded by people who love them.  I also drank 3 glasses of vodka-laced punch.  All in all, it was a great reception.  And I did, indeed, chill.

I’d like to say that this cute little story is being shared with you so that we can all be reminded that it is important to relax and enjoy things, even when stressed.  That is not actually the reason I am sharing or the lesson that should be taken from this posting.  Instead, I need you to fully comprehend the intense disdain I have for the phrases “chill”, “relax” or “calm down”. 

Don’t use them toward me.  Those phrases make me want to punch you in the face.  Thanks!

PUBLIC NOTE: I am going to be an uncle. . . wait, I mean, I am going to have a nephew!!!!!  Woot!  Congrats K-Shrub and Zack-Attack.

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  As always, a pleasure to see you!

Like a Light Switch

current state of mind: concessionary

When you start to get confused

Because of thoughts in your head

Don’t feel those feelings

Hold them in instead

~ ‘Turn It Off’ from The Book of Mormon

Employment Law was eye opening this week.  First off, my combined exam/paper was worth 150 points.  I scored 98/100 on my paper and 43/50 points on my multiple choice exam – so hello 94%!  I could have done better on the multiple choice exam – but I am happy overall.  Plus, now I know what his exams are like.  My Final Exam should be far less stressful. 

Now, the true lesson I learned in class was all about semantics.  When it comes to Employment Law, there are specific word choices that must be made and to choose the wrong words can result in public ridicule from the instructor in the middle of class.  I elected to choose the word “ridicule” in that last statement. He would likely have chosen “correction”.  

Oxford Dictionary Info:
 Concession:
1) a thing that is granted, especially in response to demands; a thing conceded: the action of conceding, granting, or yielding something.
2) a preferential allowance or rate given by an organization:
 Accommodation:
1)  a convenient arrangement; a settlement or compromise:
2)  the process of adapting or adjusting to someone or something: 

The actual verbiage of the Act in question includes “making reasonable accommodations”, while I said “making concessions”.  I was WRONG!  The word “concession” is considered negative.  The phrase “reasonable accommodations” is positive.  If anyone has any questions, I am happy to relive the humiliation in a live demonstration of what went down in class.  Just submit a formal request via electronic means. 

Oh, but for the record, it is acceptable to refer to the Freedmen’s Bureau of the Reconstruction movement as Carpetbaggers.  I think this is true because when asked what the Southerners called the Freedmen’s Bureau I shouted “Carpetbaggers” and I was not criticized for my use of the term.  I mean, it just refers to people who were Northerners, but moved to the South after the Civil War.  Though they were insulted, I am sure.  Who wants to be referred to by the luggage they carry?  I suppose that means y’all can call me a Dasher, because my luggage of choice is a bright pink Brookstone Dash.  I highly recommend Brookstone luggage. 

Okay, well, that’s all I have for now.  Torts exam next week.  I am sure I’ll be freaking out about it by Sunday.  Now you have something to which you can look forward!

PERSONAL NOTE:  My fingers are crossed.  That is all I can do!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  I have faith that your medical test will hold no surprises.  Hugs!    

Buying and Selling Weight Watchers Points

current state of mind: calm

Don’t cry when I die

When it’s my time I probably won’t die

I’ll just lie down and close my eyes

And think about stuff

~ ‘You Can Finally Meet My Mom’ by Train

I am a doodler.  When I was young, I would draw boxes.  Tons and tons of boxes.  Some were 3-dimensional.  Some were stacked on one another, creating elaborate houses that resembled stacks of cargo crates.  In my 20s I transitioned to stars.  All kinds of stars, mind you.  5 pointed, 6 pointed, sometimes even stars that would make Christmas Star designers envious.  The mindless habit of doodling keeps my head clear to pay attention to what is being said during a meeting.  Really!  Lately, my doodle of choice is a flower.  I can draw dozens by the end of a meeting.  Sometimes I even add stems and leaves – though the real focus is always placed on the petals and the perfect circle in the center.  I don’t draw artistic flowers.  I draw the type of flower that we learned to draw in 2^nd grade art class.  Draw the petals, and then add the center circle to pull it all together.  Nothing realistic about these flowers.  They are cartoonish at best.  Still, I like them.  And I will continue to draw them until I decide to draw something else.  That is the way of things.

Wednesday means that Employment Law is going to happen at 6pm.  This week’s Employment Law class has one redeeming quality – I will find out how I did on my exam last week.  While I do not think I did well, I am looking forward to knowing how this instructor grades so that my Final Exam will go much smoother.   And next week is my second Torts exam.  I am actually looking forward to that one, as I believe that I will do much better this time around.  I just have to remember “Prima Facie” elements and to make the fact pattern meet the elements instead of making the elements meet the fact pattern. *fingers crossed*

I have a lot to accomplish this week, this month, this quarter, this year, this decade, this score, this lifetime.  I am going to take a deep breath and dive in head first . . . that’s all a girl can do!

PUBLIC NOTE: Happy birthday, Bestie!  SWU!

PERSONAL NOTE:  The compromise of henna dye is a small one compared to the fight that would ensure otherwise.  Love you, girlfriend! 

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  Last thought at night.  First thought in the morning. Brilliant!                                                                                                         

Uncharted Territory

current state of mind: filtered

Too much time is spent on the dead

While all the places found a spot to live in his head

Like the bones of a lover on a dying bed

With all the nothings that he never said

~ ‘Shaky Ground’ by Jackie Greene

100 years ago, the world mourned the sinking of the Titanic, a day after the ship struck an iceberg in the North Atlantic.  While the world was mourning, Harriet Quimby of the United States, was making history as the first solo female airplane pilot to fly over the English Channel.   She had no idea that she’d be dead by July, an inexplicable accident during an airshow.  She and her passenger fell out of the plane while it was flying over Boston.  This is why you wear your seat belts kids!

I am seriously craving macaroni and cheese mixed with chicken breast and steamed broccoli.   It is such a yummy dinner.  I don’t know why I don’t prepare it more often.  I mean, the caloric and fat content is high (Thank you Kraft!).  But it is really, really tasty.  And I hate eating leftovers – so I have to prepare half the box so as not to waste what I cannot eat in the first sitting.  Lately, I haven’t even been able to force down leftover pizza and I used to not mind that as much.  In fact, my tummers is churning right now just thinking about reheating leftovers.  Yuckers!

New Topic.

Sunday, I was cranky.  Luckily for the general public, I spent most of the day holed up in my apartment working on stuff that needed to get done.  Unluckily for K-Shrub and MiMadre, I did emerge from my self-imposed prison to assist with the moving of some furniture.  I will spare you the majority of the details; but will share that THEY were not cranky and my mood was definitely NOT maintaining the relaxed atmosphere they were anticipating.  I am curious, however, as to why they thought I would be friendly and cheerful while moving furniture around when there is very little I despise more than moving furniture with other people. 

Here’s the deal:  I am a wimp.  I am also a klutz.  The combination equates to me ALWAYS getting hurt while moving furniture.  Always.  Sure enough, Sunday’s ‘genius’ moment occurred when somehow the door jamb, the dresser, and my hand all wanted to occupy the same space at the same moment.  Clearly, Physics prevailed and my finger got smooshed.  It hurt.  I dropped the dresser AND several expletives that were offensive to everyone within earshot.  It is safe to assume that my mood did not improve after this mishap.  The ridiculous bruising and soreness of my finger, however, does bring me some comfort, as it shows I was not as much of an exaggerator as they thought.  Looking back, I wish that I would have been a little nicer about things.  It isn’t anyone else’s fault that I am pre-destined for injury. 

This Weekend.

Nothing, however, will put a damper on this weekend.  Our youngest shrub, Lulu, is coming to town to celebrate her wedding reception with family and friends after a lovely wedding abroad in Italy.  I am excited to see the newlyweds together, so happy and in love.  Plus, I have a few other little surprises up my sleeve for this weekend!  Shhhhhh.

PERSONAL NOTE:  Happy birthday in two days!  Jimmy Choos for you!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  I am always here for you to vent.  As for the other topic we discussed – Genius trumps Risk every time!  Hee hee

Brilliant Plan

current state of mind: muddled

No matter what I’m feeling

I won’t hide it.

You know that you can tell me

Every secret.

~ ‘All of You’ by Colbie Caillat

The Universe is conspiring against me.  My fortune cookie told me to stop spending money; yet, no information was provided regarding how I am supposed to pay my bills without spending money.  I have considered selling a kidney, as I have two and really don’t need that second one – but a 5 year stint in prison and a $50,000 fine would really put a damper on the excitement of being debt free and one kidney lighter.  Interestingly, I can sell it legally in Iran.  But, the going rate for a kidney in Iran is $6,000.  Screw that!  Ahmadinejad isn’t getting my organ for under 100k.  Sorry, but a girl has standards.  Apparently, there are people willing to pay a hefty $100,000 grand for the little bean shaped organ.  If it was good enough for Hannibal Lector to eat, it should be good enough for me to sell.  Suffice it to say that the government of this so-called “free” republic has ensured that I won’t be going under the knife anytime soon, even if it would save a life AND improve my stress level.  “But, Mahmoud’s people get to do it . . .  why can’t I?” 

“i’m sorry, i just please need you to shut up for one minute . . .”

Wednesday, I have an Employment Law exam and a Legal Memorandum due.  I seemed to have forgotten that a major part of turning in a paper is actually writing it.  Bloody Hell.  So, now, after Torts, instead of going home and going to bed, I will be going home and writing a half-a$$ legal memo which may, or may not, make sense.  Luckily for me, however, someone who shall remain unnamed (even though he really should be given a name, as he is a grown-up and deserves to be addressed as something besides “Hey You”) gifted me with a marvelous book, Woe is I.  If you haven’t read it, you should.  If you have read it, then you can go back and correct the grammar in all of my prior blog postings.  I don’t have the time to do so.  Once again, I have overextended my obligations to the point that I may in fact never be able to claw my way out of the hole I am in.  Insert gratuitous Hunger Games reference here.  Where is Cinna when I need him? 

“May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Next week is my bestie’s birthday.  She deserves to be showered with gifts and balloons and flowers and new shoes.  Since I cannot spend any money (Blame the Universe, not me) I am hoping she reads this and knows that I am thinking about a pair of Louis Vuitton slingbacks that are the bomb!  Happy Birthday!

“Life is what happens while we are making other plans.”

Facebook bought Instagram! As soon as Apple buys Facebook, the New World Order will be complete and we can all just succumb to assimilation.  Don’t worry; it only hurts the first time!  After that, it’s child’s play – ask any parent with an iPad!

PERSONAL NOTE:  Winking at a coworker and blaming it on your “jacked up” contact really does work!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  Love and Acceptance are the same thing.  Through one, we get the other. 

Can You Do All These Things?

current state of mind: content

Does he watch your favourite movies?

Does he hold you when you cry?

Does he let you tell him all your favorite parts,

When you’ve seen it a million times?

~ “Like We Used To” by A Rocket to the Moon

I am expecting a “surprise” in the mail.  My favourite 2L is sending me a book which will help me understand how better to approach my Torts exam next time.  Yay for that!  After my most recent Employment Law session, I have decided that I do not enjoy Employment Law.  Not one bit.  All that I am learning is that if an employee wants any Constitutional rights, he needs to work for the Public Sector.  Private Sector employees have few rights.  Woot! 

I am approaching this holiday weekend with much anticipation.  I have 8 million things to get accomplished and the only way this can happen is if I have an extra day to do it.  So, huzzah for corporate holidays. 

While perusing my Rhapsody playlists, I came across some songs which most people would not associate with my musical tastes.  Three songs, in particular, make me extremely happy to sing when I hear them.  Before you judge, please know that I can break out my rhythm when I need to do so.  Granted, I may not be the best dancer at the club – but I can dance in my car or in my chair at work better than most.  There is no reason why a person such as me cannot jam to Will Smith’s ‘Wild Wild West’ while working.  Yes, I realize that no one likes that song besides me.  I also realize that I am one of the only people on the planet who admits to really, really enjoying the movie as well. 

The song that comes on AFTER “Wild Wild West” is “Rump Shaker” by Wreckx-N-Effect.  Talk about a song that keeps it real.  “check baby, check baby 1 2 3 4, check baby, check baby 1 2 3 , check baby, check baby 1 2, check baby, check baby 1 , it’s cool . . .”  Now that y’all are picturing me rapping, I do have something I need to disclose.  When this song first came out, I used to sing it very loudly and quite often.  I was especially proud of the fact that I had the words memorized.  And sometimes I would sing it for fun, even when the song wasn’t playing.  It was one of those instances when a good friend stopped me mid chorus and said, “Um, could I have you sing that part again for me?”  I knew she knew the words so I asked why she wanted to have them repeated.  While laughing, she said, “Seriously, sing the chorus again for me, please.”  Entirely confident in my knowledge, I sang the chorus for her.  It went like this, “All I wanna do zooma zooma zoom with a broom broom, shake your rug.”  Needless to say, I did not EXACTLY know the words.  Also, it was at that time my friend explained that the “grills” they sing about are not for a BBQ and once I knew the real words, the song made SO MUCH MORE SENSE! 

Of course, I cannot leave you hanging about the third song.  Let’s preface this info with the widely known fact that I am a huge fan of the movie ‘Young Guns’.  So, when a song came out that featured a line from that movie, I had no choice but to love it.  Admit it, when you hear the line “Regulators, mount up!” you too want to be on a mission to find Mr. Warren G.  Plus, I learned most of what I know about guns and the street from this song.  I love to “hooks a left” while “rolling” in Lucius.  And unlike Warren G, I am prepared for “getting jacked” by keeping my doors locked and not rolling down my windows.  No one is taking “my rings and my Rolex”.  The thing is, however, I don’t think I want to go to the “East Side Motel”.  I am really more of a “Hilton” fan.  They have the best mattresses, the best linens, and of course, Peter Thomas Roth toiletries.  Plus they make good cookies!

On that note, I will bid you adieu – primarily because I have hit the limit of how much embarrassment I can handle in one blog post. 

PERSONAL NOTE:  Cannot wait to see you!  And yes, I agree to the karaoke request!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  Rules 1 and 2 are in effect.  Rule 3 is killing me!

Look At the Big Brain on Brad

current state of mind: blissful

If what you know is who you are

Then she's everything

You don't need an education

To know what class that you're in

~ “She’s a Genius” by Jet

Grrrr. I was sure that my exam grade for Torts would be posted online by now.  I sent an email to my instructor and he said he is not quite finished grading them all.  Once he is finished, he will post the scores on our accounts.  I hate waiting.  The sooner I find out how I scored, the sooner I know how much harder I have to study next go around.  I will be so disappointed if I am not one of the top grades.  Seriously, this is not me being “hard on myself”.  My class is full of eejits.  75% of the peeps in there better have a back-up plan, because Law is not their forte.  Two classmates, in particular, really should find employment which doesn’t require literacy based on their comments in class. 

My impatience in waiting for my score brings about the realization that I am rather impatient in general.  With children, I have all the patience in the world.  I seldom raise my voice or get frustrated with them.  All other aspects of my life, I am definitely a seeker of instant gratification.  You know the “Marshmallow Test” where the kids are put in a room with a marshmallow and told if they can wait a specific amount of time, then they will get two marshmallows to eat instead of one?  Well, I am the kid who would have already eaten the marshmallow before they could have explained the rules.  I do not like to wait for good things to happen.  In fact, I don’t like to wait if I know a bad thing is going to happen either.  Waiting is not one of my strengths. 

Recently, I was told that I need to learn a valuable lesson in patience.  I disagree.  Life is short and I don’t want to miss any aspect of it.  Those of you who seek to torture me by making me wait for gratification will soon realize that I am a slow learner at this game.  You may as well just give up teaching me and allow me to have my way sooner, rather than later.  Everyone will be happier – meaning I will be happier. 

PUBLIC NOTE:  I am walking in the March of Dimes Baby March on April 29, 2012.  Please support this cause which helps babies who are born premature and has a goal that all babies are carried to full term.   The link to my personal donation site is:  http://www.marchforbabies.org/jct7779  My goal is to raise $1,000 over the next 27 days.  Please donate TODAY!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE:  Mi desk es su desk.  LMAO!