So not right.

A friend of mine brought cupcakes into work today.  "Yay!" is the phrase that one would normally be associated with such an event, but here's the caveat:  these were no ordinary cupcakes.  DISCLAIMER:  to those of you with an abnormally sensitive gag-reflex, read on at your own peril, and that of your computer.

Buffalo.  Chicken.  Cupcakes.  With blue cheese icing.

Vom.

Now, I am a woman who loves her food, but come on America!  Have we not subjected our populace to a towering-enough risk of diabetes/obesity/can't-fit-in-my-chair syndrome that our repertoire needs such a foul creation?  It's basically sugar, corn flower, Buffalo sauce, blue cheese icing made from confectioner's sugar, and as an added flourish, a baby chicken wing stuck right on top, I suppose meant as a comforting assurance that it technically qualifies as food.  In fact, it is a cleverly-disguised baby-step towards cardiac arrythmia.

I had a similar experience while traveling in Texas recently, where I noticed the disturbing trend in that region that desires to sneak in as many additives to render the food as caloric as humanly possible - why eat salsa, when you can MIX IN A STICK OF CREAM CHEESE?  Why have waffles, when you can EAT A WAFFLE SANDWICH WITH BACON, EGGS AND CHEESE?  A steak is far too healthy, let's FILL IT WITH CHEDDAR!  I know, it's seems the perfect commentary to set up the inevitable punchline "Hey, y'all, everything's bigger in Texas!  Dang-gum-it!"  But isn't it really just sad?  It's hot there, aren't you uncomfortable?  Doesn't it suck to breath heavy, sweat, feel exhausted all the time?  Are the chocolate-dipped fried Twinkies worth it?  The proclivity for extreme eating is made more troubling by the lifestyle down there - unless you're living in downtown Austin, you're not walking anywhere.  In Texas, if you don't have a car, the "FUCK YOU" is palpable.  There are very few sidewalks, no public transportation to speak of, and everything is so sprreeeaadddd ouuuuuttt.  Texans are driving drunk.  That is just a fact.  Or maybe they've replaced drinking with eating ribs.

 

I'm not deliberately singling you out, Texas.  That's just been my experience.  I mean, I haven't been to Mississippi, but I assume it's the same deal.  The thing is that the vast majority of people I know, boys and girls included, are concerned about their weight, and are constantly dieting.  I also have my own struggles, and I didn't grow up eating freaking blue cheese icing or The Baconator or fried Butterfingers.  I really just think, that can't taste good!  It's too much!  It's like seeing one of those pornstars with HUUUUGE boobs and HUUUUGE lips and BLOOONDE hair - I have a very negative physical reaction to over-doing it.  Now, maybe that's a personal problem.  But those cupcakes look evil enough to kill.

Ryan Reynolds is not a leading man

I am so sick of new movies that perpetuate the myth that Ryan Reynolds is a leading man.  He is a snarky sidekick providing a wealth of comic relief in such action movies as X-Men:  Wolverine Edition starring Hugh Jackman's Mutton Chops and That Shoot'Em-Up Movie Where Jeremy Piven Is A Magician And Common Is There Too.  Post-Van Wilder, however, his lead roles have left something to be desired.  I get a really uncomfortable feeling when I see him onscreen not dropping a snide little snark-bomb.  I just think, who does this guy think he is being serious/romantic/sweaty?  It's like a Pavlovian dog at a hand-bell concert - where's my kibble, Ryan?  You can't just show in a movie, after snarking your way into Hollywood, and expect me to be cool with your new persona.  I need to be eased into such a radically different cinematic experience.  While you were trapped in a box for two and half hours, my little trained brain kept waiting for "Real original, guys!  What, were they out of shark tanks at the Cliche-Ways-To-Kill-People store?"  Just kidding, of course I didn't see that movie.  I have a strict policy against situational action movies - those kind of scenario-inspired totally unrealistic watered-down pseudo-thrillers written by some dude, on his bong-scented couch, like GOT IT, what if there's this like this normal guy, just livin' his life, and ends up in a telephone booth/on a ledge/kidnapped by a security guard/mortally dependent on a cellphone. 

I don't mean to be bitchy.  You are an actor, and you probably have more skillz than I realize, but you were unfortunately pigeonholed into a character from whom you may never escape.  Additionally, I consider you lacking in qualities I expect in a leading man.  The formula is pretty rigid.

1)  People need to want to make out with a leading man.  Desperately.  Generally speaking, the best leading men have had luscious, kissable lips, preferably paired with a strong jaw so as to prominently display the clenching required of leading men during emotionally or physically taxing scenes.

TMJ is a serious disease.

2)  Leading men must possess a measure of unpredictability, danger, and energy that seems at times out of control.  Ryan, you are too nice.  I could easily picture you sitting in my living room, munching on some popcorn, offering to take my mom to the airport tomorrow 'cause it's no problem.  I don't slightly fear you, and therefore, how can I be attracted you in an action-movie setting?

This guy could punch anyone in the face, at any time, and not even care.  "Charisma."

3)  Maybe this is a personal issue, but Ryan just has that "gym body."  Like, clearly he didn't acquire those muscles just by livin' his bad ass life.  Everything is puffy and shiny and hairless and symmetrical.  It's just so unnatural. 

 A leading man, by contrast, should not care about his appearance enough to go to the gym like a proud peacock - he requires his muscular physique for the demanding tasks he must accomplish within the 2.5 hour allotment (rescue wife, round-house kick, run from explosions, barely dodge gunfire).

 "What's that?  I look good?  THERE'S NO TIME!"

It's not just Ryan.  Jake Gyllenhall, Orlando Bloom, Shia LeBoeuf, Zac Efron, Ryan Phillipe, Seann William Scott, and ol' Tobey "Babyface" Maguire - I never bought, and will never buy, any of these guys as leading men.  Of course, bad-ass-ness always changes that.  Leo DiCaprio could have disappeared into teen-heartthrob obscurity, but he helped himself out by looking kind of f*cked up all the time.  Robert Downey Jr. got into drugs, as did Colin Farrell - it's sad, but that does add the danger factor.  Not that I encourage it, I'm just using it as an example.  Everyone loves a comeback, that's all I'm saying.  Robert Pattinson might just save himself by keeping up the brooding, slightly-nauseous crazy-eyed public persona he's been cultivating.  There's hope for you, yet, Reynolds. 

Flo Rida

I am feeling the spirit of Florida today, likely because I'm there right now. Yes, dear ether, I touched ground yesterday afternoon in the land of sun, sea, oranges and grandma. I am officially on vacation. Unfortunately mother nature did not receive my notice, and the weather was kind of shitty. Therefore, I am channeling tropicana by accessorizing with this hair flower (see below), with all the intent and purpose of an Indian rain dance, hopefully communicating to the weather demons my prayer for sunshine.

It's Oscar's birthday today. Old man river is 31 grand years of age. Why is it that the older he gets, the more attractive he gets, and the older I get, the older I get. I can see it now, the mid 30s power shift, where he morphs into Clarke Gable and I slowly become Roseanne. Thanks again, nature.

Gratuitous glamour shots of my dog.

Ok, since we're all getting to know each other a little better (and by we, I mean faceless internet pseudo-people composed primarily of ether, and by each other, I mean me, an egomaniac patently assuming that ether-people will find her interesting), I am going to really open up, super-intimately, and show off my favorite furry creature in life. (Hint: it's not the mouse who keeps shitting under my kitchen sink, although she does at times exhibit rat-like qualities). It's my dog! Her name is Lucy, please begin swooning.

Her cruel masters maliciously tied hilarious Christmas ribbons to her for their own disgusting viewing pleasure.  Don't worry folks, she barely noticed, as you can tell by the laser-guided ultra-focused stare she is giving her favorite ball right now, as if she is trying to telecommunicate it into motion herself just to chase it.

"I am still young, and only slightly convinced that you are not raising me for food right now."

For those of you unlucky enough to not have a dog, I suggest you immediately save your settings on World of Warcraft, shut your computer, slip your atrophied limbs out of your bathrobe/pajama combo, go out into the sunlight (careful, it can be bright, you might want to grab some shades), go to the nearest animal rescue center and pick out the fluffiest, wiggliest one you can find.  Pet ownership is the best thing ever.  It will save your soul.

Hilarious autocorrect!

This is either a sacred Pennsylvania Dutch tradition involving mobile floats in the shape of giant udders, or a descriptively cruel reference to the beaches of Ocean City, Maryland the weekend after the State Fair. Either way, I don't know why it's usage is more prevalent than Gatorade.  AutoFAIL!  Bahahaha

Debbie-Downer moment.

I spoke today with a friend/colleague who had recently attended a funeral of a close family member.  He related to me a moment that struck him at the time, even through the cloud of his grief, as noteworthy.  After the service, he found himself in the awkward position of forcing smalltalk with one of the owners of the funeral parlor. 

Friend:  "So... business is... good?"
Mortician:  "Well... it depends on how many people die in a given week, I suppose."
Friend:  "Rrrriiight."

He went on to say that a mortician was the one job he would never do, that it would be too emotionally taxing, too depressing, and just an all-around downer of an employ.  I admit, the job involves what could be fairly termed buzz-kills:  the ever-present reminder of one's mortality, the daily acknowledgement of the inevitability of death, and constant exposure to communal grief.  Not to mention those spooky dead bodies .

Not to bum him out further, I had a thought that there were obvious comparisons to be drawn among the profession of mortician and our own (that is, lawyer).  Morticians provide services to people in times when they are in need - in circumstances when people are at their most vulnerable.  A person dies, a family becomes overwhelmed with grief, and calls in a mortician to work out the logistics of a service and a burial.  Lawyers do the same - we only show up when you're losing your house, fighting over money, divorcing... lawyers, too, darkly make a living off of the misfortunes of others (to be fair, some folks had it coming).  It's kind of easy to make the argument that morticians are even able to see a better side of humanity.  Families are grieving loved ones, reuniting with scattered relatives, and showing up to honor the person recently passed.  A mortician may see that a person was loved, valued, and will be missed.  He sees the strength of a widow as she carries on without her great love.  He sees relatives embracing in condolence, regardless of whatever complicated entanglements of emotion might be present in those relationships.  He hears the sentimentalized life stories of the departed, of their legacy in the world they left behind.  The tone of such events is acceptance, resignation, sorrow for the loss.

Attorneys, on the other hand, serve people who are pissed off, broken, angry, desperate, and sometimes just fucking mean.  Our clients want to fight and scramble, kick and bite, and our job is to show them the acceptable way to do so - the legal way to be the winner.  And at least for me, the stakes are not easily romanticized - these people are fighting over money.  Or property.  Or just the right to rub it in the other guy's face.  It's the kind of school-yard petty bullshit that our profession tends to encourage.  We see the worst side of humanity.  The dick side. 


So, my fantastically kind, insightful words to my grieving friend likely had the unintended effect of further depressing him.  (Nailed it!)  At least we don't have to see spooky dead bodies?  Right, pal?

I took all of these pictures with my iPhone. Yup.

A rainbow in DC.  It was almost a double rainbow, in which case I would have had the opportunity to take a hilarious video and become tragically famous.

Baltimore, from a plane.

My pup.

From Brooklyn, with a view of Manhattan. 

An old movie theater in Charleston, SC.

A junky old building in DC.

A pirate ship.

Old world charm and palms, in Charleston.

Technically, Oscar took this one.  But I'm the one that looks good, so it's in.

Quote Games Challenge

Recently took a trip down memory lane (i.e., navigated to the very oldest emails in my Gmail account) and found a little gem of a game started by my sister, like five years ago.  Hilarity ensues. 

Katie:
The first rule of Quote games is you cannot talk about Quote games. The second rule of Quote games is that YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT QUOTE GAMES.
Just kidding, I just thought that was funny. But seriously, I just thought of a brilliant game of identifying quotes. I will email  you a challenge quote and you must identify it, and reply with the movie that it is from and a new challenge for me. Here are the rules I could think of:
1. Challenge quotes cannot be found by using the internet, nor can you find the answer to a challenge by using the internet.
2. You may not use other people as a reference, except for one phone-a-friend option per challenge. It must be clearly stated in the email that you have used said option.
3. You may challenge a challenge if you think that it is misquoted. In which case, the challenger must find the quote on the internet and include a reference.
  a. If the challenger quoted correctly to begin with, she sends two new challenges, and the challenge-ee has two days to answer said challenge, or she accepts defeat.
  b. If the challenger misquoted, she admits it and the challenge-ee sends the challenger two quotes that must be correctly identified in two days, or she accepts defeat.
4. All quotes must be from MOVIES that the challenger knows that the challenge-ee has seen.
5. If the challenge-ee is stumped, she can send a second quote option within the first two days. In which case, the challenger must send a second quote from the same movie to help the challenge-ee.
6. If the challenger incorrectly identifies the movie OR cannot answer the challenger within a week, the challenger is the winner.

My first challenge: Buzz's girlfriend! Woof!

Me:
I accept your challenge! GREAT IDEA!
Ok, here is my answer to your hilariously easy first challenge
Home Alone

That gives me one point. I also suggest that one extra point be given if a more hilarious quote from the same movie is included in the response. My answer to this is, "And remember! we're the WET BANDITS! thats WET! W- um E- uhhhh T" "Shut up Marv!"

Ok and here is your challenge
"Those rules arent real."
"They were real that day I wore a vest!"
"Because that vest was disgusting!"
"YOU CANT SIT WITH US"

Katie:
Score to date:
Kerry:2
Katie: 2 (after this email)
Mean Girls hahahaha this one made me laugh
More hilarious: "whatever, Im getting cheesefries."
Your challenge:
What if I lose this power?

Me:
Took you long enough!
The answer to your challenge is:

SURF NINJAS!
more hilarious: "If shes wearing a veil, dude better bail" "Yeah! If shes covering her face...shes...probably not...very...attractive"
Score to date:
Kerry: 4
Katie: 2

Your challenge:
"Hey everyone! Come see how good I look!"

Me, later:
Where's your answer sister? What you got? You got nothin!

Katie:
Okay, I admit it. I need a second quote to get the movie.
Its not over yet homes!

Me:
Haha good lord i thought this was a gimme!
ok heres another one for you
"I hear their periods attract bears!"
"You hear that? Bears! Now you're putting the whole studio in danger!"

Katie:
Oh holy hell I can't believe I didnt get it. ANCHORMAN
So, I think that if you had to ask for a second quote you forgo your right to get an extra point, so that puts the score at:
Kerry: 4
Katie: 3
damn you!
Okay, my challenge:
Touches hand to tree and shows to friend. "Can't you feel its pain?"

Me:
Lady PLEASE!
Ferngully

And for my bonus quote--
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Only fools are positive."
"Are you sure?
"I'm positive. OH! I fell for it! I can't believe it!"

And now here is your challenge.
"That ain't no etch-a-sketch. This is one doodle that can't be undid, homeskillet." "Your eggo is preggo."

Katie:
Okay obviously it is Juno and here is my bonus quote
"he is the cheese to my macaroni."
and the challenge: "If you're gonna spew, spew in this."

Me:
What is Waynes World! The first one!
Bonus quote "Extreme close up! WHOAHHHHH!"

"If I know Mary as well as I think we do, she'll invite us right in for tea and scrumpets!"



At this point my sister promptly forgets about the game entirely, and it is nearly lost to the annals of history.  Haha, annals. 

But it is clear that I emerged victorious.  Cue trumpets and fanfare, victory-dance in the endzone.

That's bleak.

Dear Diary,

Today I spent 7 hours reviewing documents on my computer, the vast majority of which (for ease of use) are in Chinese. For another three hours I was in a meeting that was only supposed to last one. I spent one of those hours mainlining three diet cokes and pinching my leg to stay awake so as not to look like a class A buffoon in front of the four partners upon whose asses I must lay sweet, tender kisses so that I can justify the three weeks of vacation I am taking this month, one week of which I have already spent blissfully eating the biggest platters of chimichangas you have ever seen while visiting my fiance's fam in Texas. Yee haw. And now I am crash dieting away those extra queso folds away before I sausage myself into last season's bikini for two glorious weeks of lounging beachside in beautiful Boca Raton, margarita in hand, eyeballing up the hot slice of man meat at my side named Oscar (no, not a Meyer frank, my darling partner in crime and betrothed love). So yah, thats what's up.  Yay life.  (I say that without the slightest tinge of mirth).

I just stumbled upon a note I wrote maybe nine months ago, when I first started this job.  It struck me as super bleak, and all the more so because I still identify with the sentiment.  Perhaps it can be properly characterized as a moment of "confounded loss of self-identity."  It has gotten better, and easier, because of the positive feedback I have received, and the accomplishments that I can write down on paper and point to.  But the reality of myself operating the world is still oddly novel to me, and I constantly reflect on how I am perceived by others...

An excerpt:

     "I won't lie to myself, saying that I never thought today would come, and yet I sit here on this commuter train with regret and confusion. I am a fraud, I truly felt that tonight, and though I expected this moment to arrive, I am thoroughly affected and offput. I convinced myself that this was within my capacity, that I could belong if only I tried hard enough, wanted it badly enough -- as if a square peg was ever made to fit into a round hole.  I thought that this was an adventure made to test my metal, because who am I really?  If I don't know, and they don't know, why couldn't I be one of them?  There are of course differences in interests, in experience, and in levels of seriousness, but I believed it was as easy as fooling them.  And perhaps I succeeded for a short while, in that interview where I sat politely and in awe, portending my skill and parading in farce; during these first weeks as I waltz the halls in suits and heels and high-buttoned collared shirts, relishing in the interest I must have sparked in these lawyers as they tried to comprehend such a contradiction:  a woman, bright and young and carefully put together, desiring only to sit in an office for twelve hours researching arcane regulations and bone dry legislation.  What a novelty!  But the weeks have progressed and I cannot, because my limited vocabulary and further limited grasp are being tested and I cannot fake this.  This cannot be dressed up in a pencil skirt and horn-rimmed glasses and defined as talent, because it is not.  And perhaps I was never really given a chance, because they saw this from the beginning, and my farce was obvious to them but they were obligated nonetheless. Of course, they did. Their highly trained eyes could not be misdirected by a crisp white blouse and heeled loafers. How many young lawyers they have seen, grounded and weighted by their conviction in this practice!  I must have seemed so naive, for all my attempts at sincerity! Of course I have been given no work, they never intended to give work to a mere office installation!
     And I know this. I knew this. I knew that being taken seriously was not going to happen on the first day, or the first week. I thought I could earn it, by performing outstandingly on my first assignment or project or what have you.  I did not expect to be humored and forgotten.  I thought at least I would be given an opportunity to fail before being written off. And yet, the new work comes in, and I am not given that opportunity.

     Where do I go from here? Walk back into that office tomorrow again and for the rest of the year, the rest of my life until swine becomes swan and I suddenly am one of them? I wake up in 20 years and I am lead bitch attorney, with no life and no humor, and the "me" disappears forever? And who could I be now if I just allowed myself to BE?  If I stopped trying to become others' expectations and tried instead to be the "me" I am so concerned to lose?"

These insecurities plague me constantly.  I wonder if it ever goes away...

Let's get one thing straight.

Here is a list of the most boring words in the English language.  I decided to begin my blog this way in resolute oath that none of the proceeding will ever again reappear on this site.  In other words, these sum up what exactly this blog is NOT about.  The anti-theme.


Procedure
Compiling data
Regulatory
Submission
Document review
Practitioner
Intervening
Declaration
Standardization
Municipal
Rationale
Agency
Supplementary
Inadequate record
Procurement
Document-intensive
Formalize
Accountability
Delegate
Production
Litigation
Administrative
Propriety
Deficiency
Solicitation
Authorization
Debriefing
Indeterminate
Discretion
Countenance
Prudence
Proposal
Methodology
Reasonable
Aggregate
Logistical
Iteration
Contemplated
Calculate
Integrate
Conjunction
Technical
Redacted
Issuance
Selection
Mode
Systematic
Assignment
Signatory
Criterion
Subsequent
Improper
Contemporaneous
Corrective
Management
Process
Accordance
Panel
Rule
Furnish
Scant
Merits
Damper
Generality
Analytical framework
Federal
Responsibility
Utilization
Perpetuity
Certifiable
Pleadi
Archival
Depose
Retention
Disciplinary
Structuring
Judicial
Remedial
Accounting practice
Standardization
Contract vehicle
Linkage
Administer
Compliance
Institutional
Insurable
Financial
Capitalization rates
Operations management