My son went straight from The Wiggles to Social Distortion. We missed the whole Radio Disney phase. Nevertheless, I do know who Miley Cirus is. She's the one who has the pimp/father and likes to mountain climb. I know who Taylor Swift is. Do you remember where you were when Kayne West slammed Taylor? I do. I was on cnn.com looking for news about health care reform but all I could find was news about "the incident." And I've heard of the Jonas brothers. They are the ones with the virgin rings.
I saw a Jonas brother video for the first time this morning on Vh1. Its no surprise he could keep his promise to be a virgin. Maybe it's because I'm old, but I just don't get the Jonas thing. The lead signer of Train - we could share a bagel. Brandon Flowers - love his manically philosophical lyrics. Are we human? Or, ARE WE dancers? Whoa. Think. On. That. (But not too long or it just starts to hurt your head.) But even if I was 12, I still don't think I would lust after a Jonas brother.
Another one I don't get is Michael Buble. You just haven't found me yet because I haven't been looking for you. Apparently you did find an Argentinian supermodel so now that the search is over (Survivor reference), get off my t.v.
And here is where I have to give snaps to the ex-husband. If the musical education of our son was left up to me, well let's just say my son would have the most uncool iPod musical library of anyone on the planet. And lets give double snaps to the new husband who lets me play The Essential Journey on each and every road trip and who puts Eye of the Tiger in my car CD player before interviews. The search really is over, baby, you were with me all the time.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Three Musings
1. I will give up my entire Kate Spade collection if you could promise me that I will always fell as good as I did after I took Nasonex for the first time this morning. Nasonex, you complete me.
2. To the guy who has the Chevy Impala in the parking lot: It's not worthy of parking across two spaces. (See It's a Chevy Impala.)
3. From time to time, my mom would show up at my door for no reason other than to bring me a Starbucks caramel macchiato. When she passed away, I mostly stopped drinking them. Now I only have them on very rare occasions so I can keep the whole experience available; the taste and smell of them make me feel like she is right there with me. I had one yesterday (See Monday's post. And it helped. Moms are the best. Even from heaven.) There are only two other times I have ordered one: (i) When I didn't get the job at the small law firm last fall even though all signs were really really good, and (ii) when my ex-husband and I were going through our divorce and, in the same phone call that he asked me for money, he told me that he was taking his girlfriend to Cabo.
2. To the guy who has the Chevy Impala in the parking lot: It's not worthy of parking across two spaces. (See It's a Chevy Impala.)
3. From time to time, my mom would show up at my door for no reason other than to bring me a Starbucks caramel macchiato. When she passed away, I mostly stopped drinking them. Now I only have them on very rare occasions so I can keep the whole experience available; the taste and smell of them make me feel like she is right there with me. I had one yesterday (See Monday's post. And it helped. Moms are the best. Even from heaven.) There are only two other times I have ordered one: (i) When I didn't get the job at the small law firm last fall even though all signs were really really good, and (ii) when my ex-husband and I were going through our divorce and, in the same phone call that he asked me for money, he told me that he was taking his girlfriend to Cabo.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Wrong Side of the Fence
I wrote this yesterday and then debated about whether I was going to post it. I decided to post it because I thought it might be helpful to share. One of the things that made me feel better when I was unable to move my ass off the couch yesterday was that I remembered similar posts by other bloggers. Shauna Glenn has been there. Heather Armstrong has been there. I'm in excellent company and it feels good to know that I am not crazy. Or we're all crazy.
I'm having trouble pulling my shit together. Since the lay-off, I have been on the fence between believing that everything is going to be okay, if not better, in the end and believing that this is all really more than I can handle.
I'm tired. Not physically; rather, I am tired of waiting for things to get better. I am ready for there to be just days now, not days where I am waiting for it all to turn around, not days where I do not feel like I am part of the human race. And I am especially tired of days like Friday:
(1) Clearing out my bank account for some big expenses that could no longer be put off [like paying my bar dues even though I am not working as a lawyer]. So that's it. That's all the $ there was. My son will have to wear his short pants and if anybody wants to get in touch with me, they are going to have to do it by email because my phone picked yesterday of all goddamn days to stop working.
(2) I made a bad decision. I had about $50 dollars left in my bank account and I decided that what I needed was a really good laugh. That's right. Sitting at Cube World and feeling sorry for myself, all I could think of was what I needed (not that my son needs pants or a way to get in touch with me.) So I took that money and I bought 2 tickets to the comedy club.
(3) My husband offered to take me out for my favorite meal before the show. At the restaurant, all I wanted was to go into the bathroom and slide down the wall and crumple on the floor. And I didn't even care that it was a public bathroom floor. And maybe I did just that.
(4) The three comedians we saw were the three worst comedians that I have ever seen. I didn't laugh once. And I didn't hear my husband laugh once during the headliner either, so it wasn't like I just wasn't meeting the comedians half way. (I wasn't, but also they were bad.)
(5) My new and improved cough medicine that the PA promised would allow both me and my husband to sleep through the night cost me over $100, and I coughed all through the night.
I know I could go to my husband and tell him that I need $20 so I could go to the Target and get my son some new pants. And he would give me $20. But the point is, I hate that if it weren't for him I would be sitting here in poverty and that frightens the living shit out of me and also pisses me off because I worked so hard over the last ten years to secure my future.
(6) My ex-husband just emailed and said that my son wants to stay with him (even though it is my day). And that is the worst news of all.
Today is a better day.
I'm having trouble pulling my shit together. Since the lay-off, I have been on the fence between believing that everything is going to be okay, if not better, in the end and believing that this is all really more than I can handle.
I'm tired. Not physically; rather, I am tired of waiting for things to get better. I am ready for there to be just days now, not days where I am waiting for it all to turn around, not days where I do not feel like I am part of the human race. And I am especially tired of days like Friday:
(1) Clearing out my bank account for some big expenses that could no longer be put off [like paying my bar dues even though I am not working as a lawyer]. So that's it. That's all the $ there was. My son will have to wear his short pants and if anybody wants to get in touch with me, they are going to have to do it by email because my phone picked yesterday of all goddamn days to stop working.
(2) I made a bad decision. I had about $50 dollars left in my bank account and I decided that what I needed was a really good laugh. That's right. Sitting at Cube World and feeling sorry for myself, all I could think of was what I needed (not that my son needs pants or a way to get in touch with me.) So I took that money and I bought 2 tickets to the comedy club.
(3) My husband offered to take me out for my favorite meal before the show. At the restaurant, all I wanted was to go into the bathroom and slide down the wall and crumple on the floor. And I didn't even care that it was a public bathroom floor. And maybe I did just that.
(4) The three comedians we saw were the three worst comedians that I have ever seen. I didn't laugh once. And I didn't hear my husband laugh once during the headliner either, so it wasn't like I just wasn't meeting the comedians half way. (I wasn't, but also they were bad.)
(5) My new and improved cough medicine that the PA promised would allow both me and my husband to sleep through the night cost me over $100, and I coughed all through the night.
I know I could go to my husband and tell him that I need $20 so I could go to the Target and get my son some new pants. And he would give me $20. But the point is, I hate that if it weren't for him I would be sitting here in poverty and that frightens the living shit out of me and also pisses me off because I worked so hard over the last ten years to secure my future.
(6) My ex-husband just emailed and said that my son wants to stay with him (even though it is my day). And that is the worst news of all.
Today is a better day.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Fried Zucchini
I saw this picture at msnbc.com earlier this week and I thought, "Mmmm fried zucchini." Turns out its a pile of ancient bones. But I still want some fried zucchini.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Funk Day in Funk Town
Today I am having a big funkorama. Today it is Funk Day in Funk Town.
Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time there is only one visitor to the Cube World stage at Funkapolooza. Today of all days, I, the Princess of Funk Town, like those odds. This is because (oh dear God it has come to this), I have really bad (and I mean horrific) gas. The curry soup I tried to make last night, the sinus and cold medication and the narcotic cough syrup have all blended together to create a downright toxic (perhaps poisonous) mixture.
Today, however, today of all days, mere seconds after a particularly hearty fart, the IT guy comes by to add something to my computer. We look at each and we both know - it cannot be ignored. He tells me he will come back.
Festivities in Funk Town are delayed until further notice due to air quality.
So there it is, the fart entry. For the record, I blogged for a whole half of a year before I went there. Anyway, the point is, I am in a supreme funk and it has nothing to do with the fact that I scared away the IT guy. Funk Town needs some serious fucking fireworks (other than the ones coming out my ass) to jolt me out of this funk.
I am sorry, we will not talk about gas again.
Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time there is only one visitor to the Cube World stage at Funkapolooza. Today of all days, I, the Princess of Funk Town, like those odds. This is because (oh dear God it has come to this), I have really bad (and I mean horrific) gas. The curry soup I tried to make last night, the sinus and cold medication and the narcotic cough syrup have all blended together to create a downright toxic (perhaps poisonous) mixture.
Today, however, today of all days, mere seconds after a particularly hearty fart, the IT guy comes by to add something to my computer. We look at each and we both know - it cannot be ignored. He tells me he will come back.
Festivities in Funk Town are delayed until further notice due to air quality.
So there it is, the fart entry. For the record, I blogged for a whole half of a year before I went there. Anyway, the point is, I am in a supreme funk and it has nothing to do with the fact that I scared away the IT guy. Funk Town needs some serious fucking fireworks (other than the ones coming out my ass) to jolt me out of this funk.
I am sorry, we will not talk about gas again.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
What next? And why isn't it happening fast enough?
No, the title does not refer to the relief efforts in Port-au-Prince. Brad and Angelina are on it. The Red Cross is also on it. There is no humor to be found in a disaster area that can be seen from outer space. Much like I am sure you have done, I hugged my loved ones a little longer and thought about how fragile we are (Sting may have said that first) and how your life can be completely uprooted and turned on its head in just one day. Accordingly, considering such thoughts, I do find the following appropriate . . .
----------------------------------
I have been thinking a lot lately about what it would look like if I was fully living and loving my life.
I have been thinking that, if money and long term planning was not a consideration, I would tell my husband to secure that offer in Thailand. I could write all about it on Decisions on Margaritas, Thailand Edition. The move would be an extraordinary adventure and I could focus on the two things that are really important to me, my husband and my son. And I would have all the time in the world to explore and read and write.
As the law job rejections continue to roll in, I start to feel less and less like a lawyer. The knowledge is slipping away. The drive to get out there and be a part of the business world is slipping away.
Yesterday, however, I was invited to attend a meeting and at that meeting we discussed a law. The particular law was a very important part of my former practice. For the first time in a very long time, I felt alive in a way I had forgotten I could feel alive. A spark fired and I remembered how great it felt to be a lawyer sometimes.
I don't miss billable hours. I don't miss grumpy partners. But I really do miss practicing law. Right now, I just don't know what to strive for, but I do know that feeling numb isn't living.
In my 20s and 30s, the answer was always at the bottom of a pitcher of margaritas. But then again, that's how I ended up deciding I wanted to go to law school. 50K debt and a lay-off later . . . I need a margarita!
----------------------------------
I have been thinking a lot lately about what it would look like if I was fully living and loving my life.
I have been thinking that, if money and long term planning was not a consideration, I would tell my husband to secure that offer in Thailand. I could write all about it on Decisions on Margaritas, Thailand Edition. The move would be an extraordinary adventure and I could focus on the two things that are really important to me, my husband and my son. And I would have all the time in the world to explore and read and write.
As the law job rejections continue to roll in, I start to feel less and less like a lawyer. The knowledge is slipping away. The drive to get out there and be a part of the business world is slipping away.
Yesterday, however, I was invited to attend a meeting and at that meeting we discussed a law. The particular law was a very important part of my former practice. For the first time in a very long time, I felt alive in a way I had forgotten I could feel alive. A spark fired and I remembered how great it felt to be a lawyer sometimes.
I don't miss billable hours. I don't miss grumpy partners. But I really do miss practicing law. Right now, I just don't know what to strive for, but I do know that feeling numb isn't living.
In my 20s and 30s, the answer was always at the bottom of a pitcher of margaritas. But then again, that's how I ended up deciding I wanted to go to law school. 50K debt and a lay-off later . . . I need a margarita!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
PSA
This is a pubic service announcement. Yes, you read right. I have a friend who is a securities attorney and, instead of sending out a public offering circular to all the important investors, he sent out a pubic offering. In an act of solidarity in light of his giant screw up, all of his friends determined that, from here on out, pubic would be used in place of public.
Anyway, the announcement. Home Depot is going to stop carrying Ralph Lauren paint. This is unacceptable. For one thing, even when you tell yourself that you are not going to buy the Ralph Lauren paint just because it is from Ralph Lauren, you always end up picking a color from the Ralph Lauren collection. You know it's true. That collection is quite simply the greatest paint color collection ever. For a second thing, Home Depot is going to replace the Ralph Lauren paint with Martha Stewart paint. Really? Speaking of securities law - didn't she serve jail time for a little insider trading? I will not have her paint on my walls.
When I am done, the bedroom is going to be Ralph Lauren Sanctuary blue. Swoon. And do you know what I have noticed. My husband doesn't give a rat's ass what colors the walls are. All he knows is that this means he is moving furniture. But I really have a talent for this stuff. My living room is the most gorgeous shade of off-white. Whenever anyone visits they exclaim, "My goodness, that off-white! That is the most gorgeous shade of off-white." And I say, "I know, Ralph Lauren has a whole collection of off-whites. I will help you pick one out at my reasonable hourly rate." (Because even though I am not practicing law, I still like to think of my time at my former reasonable hourly rate.)
Hey, wait a minute. Isn't a Sanctuary where they keep the crazy people? Okay, F for name. But run out and get your Ralph Lauren color swatches now! They can be mixed into the Behr paint later.
Anyway, the announcement. Home Depot is going to stop carrying Ralph Lauren paint. This is unacceptable. For one thing, even when you tell yourself that you are not going to buy the Ralph Lauren paint just because it is from Ralph Lauren, you always end up picking a color from the Ralph Lauren collection. You know it's true. That collection is quite simply the greatest paint color collection ever. For a second thing, Home Depot is going to replace the Ralph Lauren paint with Martha Stewart paint. Really? Speaking of securities law - didn't she serve jail time for a little insider trading? I will not have her paint on my walls.
When I am done, the bedroom is going to be Ralph Lauren Sanctuary blue. Swoon. And do you know what I have noticed. My husband doesn't give a rat's ass what colors the walls are. All he knows is that this means he is moving furniture. But I really have a talent for this stuff. My living room is the most gorgeous shade of off-white. Whenever anyone visits they exclaim, "My goodness, that off-white! That is the most gorgeous shade of off-white." And I say, "I know, Ralph Lauren has a whole collection of off-whites. I will help you pick one out at my reasonable hourly rate." (Because even though I am not practicing law, I still like to think of my time at my former reasonable hourly rate.)
Hey, wait a minute. Isn't a Sanctuary where they keep the crazy people? Okay, F for name. But run out and get your Ralph Lauren color swatches now! They can be mixed into the Behr paint later.
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