laugh out loud

The New Site

2006-07-18T09:32:00.000-07:00

Okay, everyone. Brace yourselves. As of today, this blog is moving! From here on out, you can find me and my neuroses over at:

www.laughtillyoucry.com/blog

Now, that site is not 100% perfect - I am still touching things up and getting the posts from this and the old blog on there. But as of now, I will not be updating this blog so for my further escapades, or to visit my past adventures, you will need to go to the new site. I am pretty excited about the move and way happy to have a bit more freedom than Blogger allows.

Also, for those of you here in Utah that have expressed sadness at not having a goodbye party, I feel your pain...unfortunately, my life has gotten a bit crazy as of late and before I knew it, it was time to go. So I am sorry we couldn't have one last party to remember, but it DOES give all of you a valid reason to come to Virginia!!!!

Thank You!

2006-07-14T06:52:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the friends and family that have been absolutely amazing and wonderful to me the past few days - your thoughts and actions have been greatly appreciated!

Just a quick note that the blog may go on a small hiatus here as I get ready to depart. I always say that, then end up posting anyway, but I may really be too busy in the next few days to say much, so fair warning! Also, changes are afoot here. You'll remember that I told you many moons ago about having my own website, etc. I am currently working on that and hope to launch a new and improved blog, which will combine all my posts from this and the old blog in one snazzy location - stay tuned for details!

Okay, peace out kids!

Communists In Pink Taffeta Dresses

2006-07-12T06:55:00.000-07:00

Every time something big is about to occur in my life, I have this nasty habit of obsessing over what will happen if the apocalypse hits before that big event. I like to blame this, in part, on my religious upbringing because, really, what impressionable child needs to be learning about Revelations (the book in the Bible) or any of the Old Testament, for that matter? And yes, I realize that Revelations is not in the Old Testament but I've always felt that the book of Revelations was God's way of saying, "So, you think I'm all nice and cuddly now that I sent my son down there to die, do you? I can still smite you!" So yeah, my morbid apocalyptic thoughts are partly the fault of my churchy tendencies, instilled within me at a tender age, and also a result of my natural pessimism. I'm not big on hope or faith but if you are ever looking for someone with a more cynical view on life than yourself, feel free to drop me a line...if we all haven't died by then in the infernal Armageddon that's headed our way.

I think another part of my Apocalypse Complex stems from the atmosphere of my younger years. Remember the Cold War? Remember worrying that Reagan and Gorbachev were just an argument away from dropping nukes on each others' countries, thus obliterating all mankind? Nuclear winter, that was the stuff of my childhood apocalyptic worries. I have a very distinct memory of being in first grade, my teacher holding a globe, pointing to the USSR and referring to it as "the Evil Empire" - this was the same teacher that made us pray before lunch, further reinforcing the link between God and total destruction in my young mind. But the thing about this imminent and constantly impending death by nukes was that it would be over in an instant. Unless, of course, you were one of the unlucky ones left alive to mutate a third arm off your forehead and fight with cockroaches the size of Roseanne Barr for scraps of edible trash. Yuck. When I wasn't praying to God to let me live to go to Prom, I was asking him to make sure I died quickly when the nukes came so that I didn't have to see larger than life cockroaches - because my little mind just could not wrap itself around that image...and we all wonder why I have trouble sleeping even now....

But it's true - I used to sincerely ask God to let me at least live till Prom. And, if He was feeling especially generous, till I got married, but I'd settle for Prom. And I wanted to wear my mother's pink taffeta dress with the poofy sleeves to Prom. Circa 1983, it was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. By the time I was old enough to go to Prom, I would have rather been killed by nukes or even the human cockroaches than wear that thing. In college, I finally donned the pink monstrosity for a sorority mixer. The theme? "White Trash Wedding" and I won a prize for my get-up.

I digress. The point I am taking forever to get at is that I am super-psyched for law school but half-convinced that Armageddon (and not the Ben Affleck, Aerosmith kind) is going to hit sometime in the next three weeks, preventing me from ever actually experiencing this event that I have been building up to for the past 2 years. And Armageddon is a lot more frightening to contemplate nowadays than it was in my youth. Back in the day, I couldn't imagine anything worse than a communist with a nuclear weapon. Now that I'm practically one myself (not really, I'm just disenfranchised), they don't seem as scary. Especially when you compare the commies to the terrorists. All of a sudden, I miss the nukes with their quick-death guarantee.

But mostly, I just hope I make it to, and even better, through law school before thew world ends. That's really all I want. Marriage might be nice but I'll settle for law school.

France, Italy, And Some Raunchy Lingerie

2006-07-09T22:08:00.000-07:00

This was a busy weekend for me. We'll start with today (Sunday) and work our way backward, okay? I rushed home from church today so I could catch the final game of the World Cup. My heart belonged to France in this match-up, for obvious reasons (that whole I-speak-your-language-lived-in-your-country thing) and because I had an enormous crush on this man right here:

This is Zizou, or Zinedine Zidane, the captain of the French team and my soccer boyfriend since I watched him win the World Cup for France against Brazil back in 1998. I was actually in France, totally as a coincidence in 1998, during the final game that year - the cool thing? If you remember, France hosted the games that year - it was the biggest party I have ever witnessed when France won that game - I loved it. In 2002, I was finishing up my stay in France at the same time as the World Cup but France didn't really do much that round. So this time, I was pretty damn excited to see France in the final game. I like soccer - I played it while I lived over in Europe and it's a great game in my book. And I love watching people like Zidane, who actually know how to play the game and run towards the ball instead of away from it, which is my tactic when playing. Before today, Zidane was my hero. He is a French celebrity of sorts and I remember being so taken by the fact that he was a quiet, well-spoken family man.

But today, Zidane killed that wholesome image in my mind when he inexplicably head-butted another player and was thrown out of the game during the first overtime. France went on to lose and you know what? If that's how the captain is going to act, then the team doesn't deserve to win. It kills me to say that because I really wanted them to win - I sat there with the group at my house, most of whom were already rooting for Italy (my roomie is Italian), and we all looked at the TV in shock, not quite sure we were really seeing this icon behave so badly. It was heartbreaking.

So that was today. Friday, I had a bachelorette party to attend for my good friend, G-Unit (her choice of nickname, not mine). G-Unit is a wild and crazy girl so we decided to throw her a wild and crazy party, complete with raunchy lingerie and a strip-tease finale. But here's the catch. I kinda, sorta forgot to get my gift until 11pm the night before the party which was to start right after work on Friday. So I needed to get some naughty night-time tid-bits and being the resourceful girl I am, I figured I'd run to an all-night sex shop, along the lines of Doctor John's, since that's the only 24-hour adult store I know of around here.

The only problem? Doctor John's is NOT a smutty store. I was seriously disappointed and relieved at the same time. KT, the roomie, was along with me and so, for her sake, I was glad to see that Doctor John's is little more than a store that sells cheap lingerie but I was a little bitter to find that an all-night store which purports to be risque actually offers little to nothing in the embarrassing sex gift category. Eventually, I managed to find something randy enough to turn G-Unit a bright shade of red when she opened the gift. I mean, really, what is the point of a bachelorette party, if not to embarrass the bride-to-be?

Now as for the strip-tease, we didn't hire anyone for that. Rather, we rented Carmen Electra's Aerobic Strip-tease and did it ourselves. And I have to say, I thought it was a great work out and a helluva lot of fun. I enjoyed it so much that I bought the DVDs for myself off of Amazon. Hey, if I'm gonna work-out, I might as well enjoy it and I might as well learn some skills that may come in handy later on, right? I think of it as the work-out that keeps giving.

So that was my weekend. Hope y'all had a good one too!

Rethinking The Whole Utah-Bashing....

2006-07-05T21:24:00.000-07:00

So, I was thinking about how I have a tendency to say semi-unkind things about Utah here on the blog....well, okay, I flat-out bash this place every chance I get, I'll admit it. My last post may not have been the nicest post about Utah but, in my defense, I don't like any stretch of land without a mall nearby...it just so happens that because I live here, instead of Montana, I am familiar with the desolate landscape of southern I-15. But there is more to this post than a silly excuse for my Children of the Corn comment.

Here's the thing. This weekend, my dad and I went up to Snowbird and took the tram there up to Hidden Peak or whatever the name of that mountain is. So we're up there, joking around and making fun of everyone around us when I find myself looking at the view of the Salt Lake Valley and realize, "Wow...this is really breathtaking!" And it was. Absolutely stunning. Utah is, in fact, one of the more scenic places I have lived, in terms of natural wonders (this isn't saying a lot when you think about the fact that I was previously living in Ohio...not a lot there besides the cows...). But in all seriousness, I do like living here. It is beautiful and the Mormons aren't all that bad, I suppose.

But here's where my beef with my experience out here lies. I think the reason I tend to be rather unkind about this fine state is that I have been less than impressed with certain aspects of the culture out here. I'm fine with the abundance of religion surrounding me because when or if I get sick of that, I can just tune it out by singing curse words to myself or whatever. But I have a real hard time getting beyond the enormous amount of a-holes that seem to make up the male population out here. As dating is something I enjoy and something that I expected very much to continue enjoying out here, I have been alternately dismayed or plain disgusted with the absolute lack of dating out here. And sadly, I have let my frustration with that one aspect of life out here taint my view of the entire Utah experience.

Now you can chide me if you want but I'll probably ignore you. As it is, I admit that I haven't given Utah a fair shake. A few bad apples (all of which we'll assume have itsy-bitsy penises - because that's what makes 'em bad) shouldn't influence my overall view of Utah and so, in the almost 2 weeks I have left out here, I promise to try to not dog the state too badly.

You Can Quote Me On That

2006-07-03T09:04:00.000-07:00

I am in the midst of enjoying a fabulous 4 day weekend, and the best part is, my dad drove up Saturday night to hang out with me. His drive up inspired the following quote from me:

Once you get out of Salt Lake and Provo, Utah is like Children of the Corn. For real. I mean, do you want to end up with a broken down car along I-15 out in that abandoned territory? You'd probably get kidnapped by carnivorous polygamists and if they didn't serve you as dinner, they'd make you wear those long skirts and ugly clothes - I'd rather be dinner, myself....

And it's true. This state freaks me out. Frankly, I'm surprised there's as much civilzation here as there is. But in spite of that, my dad ended up here safely and none of us had to worry about being forced to wear suspenders or look in any way amish (Thank you, God!).

On that note, have a happy Fourth of July and watch out for amish-looking people running around in the desert - cuz I promise you, they aren't amish and they're eyeing you to decide if you'd make a nice dinner for their family of 25!

The Weekly Round-Up

2006-06-29T20:19:00.000-07:00

I don't have a real topic for this post - just some random tidbits to tide you over till something fun and embarrassing happens to me again...shouldn't be too long.

I got a call from my high school best friend tonight - she is planning the 10 year reunion for our class and googled me, pulling up my resume and getting my phone number. I'm surprised it's that easy to find me on the internet. But it is - stalkers, take note. Anyway, we had a good conversation - I haven't talked to her since college - we rushed the same sorority and though we were close through our freshman year, we ended up drifting apart as college went on. It's always fun to get a random message from an old friend.

Woo Hoo! Tentative class schedules for the 1Ls (first-year law students) came out today - yea!!! I am taking Criminal Law, Civil Procedure, and Torts first semester - I have no idea what any of that means, but I am flippin' thrilled to be taking them! It's real - I'm really going to law school! Can you believe it? They let people like me go to law school! Oh, and further proof that I was meant to go into the study of the law - I don't have any classes before 10AM. That's what I'm talking about!

As further proof that I am not the only child my mom likes to alienate, Younger Sister #1, she of the grand wedding, has also felt the Wrath of Mom. Younger Sister #1 has decided to hold off on starting classes for her graduate degree until January so that she can ease into the transition of married life without immediately having classes to deal with. Makes sense to me...but my mom bitched at her, saying that if Younger Sister #1 doesn't go back now, she'll never go back. Good grief - my eyes rolled back so far in my head when I heard abotu this that I was afraid they'd get stuck there. Some people (Mom) can never be satisfied.

Younger Sister #2 got a kitten....makes me miss mine so much. When I moved out here, I had to give my cats away...pets are really great - much less mouthy than actual roommates.

Finally, this sunburn has made me realize that I need to take the whole "getting married" thing more seriously. Why? Because I need someone else in my life to rub the aloe into my back when I'm burned - I've tried to do this on my own but there are spots I just can't reach!

Well, there you have it. Tidbits from me. Enjoy.

So Much More Than I Bargained For

2006-06-27T20:52:00.000-07:00

Normally, I would not share the following story because there's a limit to how much random strangers need to know about me, but I am not really in any sane frame of mind at the moment. I had to get a bunch of vaccines today - TB, Hepatitis, etc and so I feel woozy and willing to share what may possibly be one of the ickier events I've experienced in the past year.

In order to go to law school, I had to get a physical and receive a few billion vaccines. Don't ask me what the hell I am going to be doing in law school that necessitates having a meningitis vaccine but whatever. I set up an appointment to get a physical this afternoon and left work a couple of hours early to go. Now, I have had a few physicals in my day - when I was leaving to live in France, I had every known vaccine shot into me and then some. So it isn't like I am unfamiliar with how a visit to the doctor works. They take some blood, you fill out a few billion papers, the doctor comes in for .2 seconds to use his stethoscope and make sure you know how to breathe, yada yada...

Today's session seemed to be moving along like that...paperwork, etc...but when the nurse took me back to the check-up room and began talking to me about what would be happening, a phrase dropped out of her mouth and struck fear into my heart:

Nurse: "So you'll get your bloodwork done and these forms need to be filled out before the doctor can see you and then he'll do a general exam and then there's the Pap smear..."

Me (in a voice so high and screechy that dogs across Utah have lost their hearing): "Pap smear?!? What?"

APPARENTLY, Pap smears are a part of physical examinations out here...what the hell? If I want a Pap smear, I'll call my Gyno - that's what she's there for....unfortunately, by "there," I mean in Cincinnati...I don't have a girl doc out here...so after some deliberation, I agreed to allow the whole ordeal to continue. But really, I wasn't thinking clearly - the heat from my sunburn has left my brain fried and so I really can't be held accountable for any of the decisions I make right now. Besides, I thought that if I didn't get the "full physical," as the nurse kept calling it, then maybe William & Mary wouldn't accept my health evaluation forms.

But even though I agreed to the Pap smear, I did not feel good about it AT ALL. I mean, ladies, back me up on this - when you know some doctor is going to be poking and prodding 'round there, you spruce it up a bit beforehand, right? But nooooo, not me this time. I had no time to feel fresh. Ugg. Not only that, but the doctor was a man...now, I know each woman has her own preference as to whether she uses a female Gyno or a male one, but I prefer my hoo-hah doc to be female. Men that claim expertise in womens business make me nervous. Now, I like to think I know a good amount about the boy organs and how they work but I have ZERO desire to give a man a prostate exam. And I'd prefer if the boys would avoid giving me Pap smears, unless we're "playing doctor" or whatever.

So the doctor comes in to start his exam and in making small talk, he asks me which law school I am going to. I tell him William & Mary and then he tells me his son is a 2nd year student there...how freaking coincidental. The man who is about to shove some fore ceps where fore ceps should never go has a son at the same damn law school that I am about to attend...great. Just great. I can just see how the next conversation he has with his son will go...

Dr. Fore Ceps: "So, I met this new hoo-hah that's going to be at W&M this coming year - look for her will you?"

Son Fore Ceps: "Sure dad. How will I know her when I see her?"

Anyway, you get the point.

So the time rolls around for the dreaded spread-'em stir-ups and as I am lying there, desperately wanting to find some way to distract this man from thinking too much about what he's poking at and myself from any sudden movements that may lead to the fore ceps getting stuck, I decide to ask the following question:

Me: "So what made your son decide to go to William & Mary?"

I instantly regretted the question...Now the good doctor was going to think that having things shoved up my hoo-hah made me think of his son...oh good grief. If the florescent light hanging up there could fall on me now and at least knock me out, or maybe even just kill me, that would be ideal...please!

Finally, after what had to be 8 hours of discomfort, it was all over and I got dressed and got the Hell out of there. That has got to be the most mortifying physical I have ever undergone...please let me never experience a physical like that again...and let me never meet the doctor's son, on campus or off...

Oven Mitts

2006-06-26T21:27:00.000-07:00

My mom has this unique knack of giving excessive amounts of practical gifts for any major holiday. For example, there was the year that all of us kids, stepkids, cousins, and random strangers received multiple first aid kits for Christmas - we were told it was one for the car and two or three for the house, depending on how big our houses were...when I reminded her that she had given me four kits and that made no sense seeing as I lived in a tiny apartment, she just sighed and said, "Oh honey, we all know how clumsy you are....you probably ought to keep one of them at work too - just in case..." Well, you gotta hand it to the woman...she knows her kids.

Anyway, my last Christmas season in Cincinnati, I spent a fair amount of time contemplating just what she would be getting me for the practical gift that year...I mean, over the past few years before that, I had built up a collection of medical supplies that most hospitals would envy. I had enough emergency flashlights, candles, water, and food to keep a small country alive, and the trunk of my car had started to look like a camping goods stockroom...she was really gonna have to think hard this year in order to come up with something new.

But see, that's the thing - never underestimate my mom. Though she had only been to my apartment three short times since I had lived there (she was allergic to cats and, well, funny that - I had cats - go figure...that wasn't intentional....), she had managed to somehow figure out that I only had one oven mitt in the entire joint. Now this was not a problem for me. I have always been one to keep the crazy schedule and it was no different in Cincinnati - I worked two jobs there and had begun taking part-time classes at UK so it wasn't all that often that I cooked a meal at home...thus, I never really gave oven mitts much thought.

Thank goodness someone in the family thinks about these things. That Christmas, I received 10, count them, TEN oven mitts (like the commandments, only tangible and from Williams-Sonoma, rather than from an angry bearded guy). What does one girl do with 10 flippin' oven mitts? And where in the holy crap was I going to keep these ten extra mitts? My cupboards and closets were already overflowing with random supplies - could another 10 mitts really fit in anywhere? At this point, I was going to start using the bathtub for storage area...

Then it hit me as I was wandering around my apartment, oven mitts in hand, looking for storage space. The answer was so simple, I couldn't believe it hadn't hit me sooner. The OVEN!! I had this wonderful gas oven that had a large drawer on the bottom and I hadn't managed to fill that drawer all the way quite yet. It was perfect. I tucked the oven mitts inside of the drawer and promptly forgot about them.

A few weeks later, I came home one night and just couldn't stop craving pizza bites - my guilty pleasure from time to time. So I reached into the freezer, got out a cookie sheet and popped some pizza bites into the oven. A few minutes later, I realized that the smell wafting out of my kitchen did not smell at all like what I was used to smelling whilst baking delectable pizza bites. And was it just me, or was it a bit cloudy inside the apartment? And why were the clouds getting thicker as I got closer to the kitchen? And, mylanta, what the hell was going on with the oven? Why was light radiating out of that drawer on the bottom? Like an idiot, I bent down and opened the drawer...and damn near singed my eyebrows and hair as the flames shot up from the burning oven mitts in the drawer. I slammed the drawer shut and began to panic. This was it, this was a full-fledged fire. Why had I taken those fire extinguishers my mom gave me for my birthday to work? Where were they when I really needed them??? The "clouds" were becoming thick and black and I was going to die, suffocated by inhaling burnt oven mitts and my cats were going to die as well....

My cats! That snapped me out of my panicky paralysis and I hearded the two of them up and shut them in my bedroom, with the windows open. Dammit, if I was going to die from smoke inhalation or third-degree burns, that was one thing, but those cats? Well, I had to save them - it's a cruel world out there - can't just leave the little guys to fend for themselves, right? So I ran back into the kitchen, and tried to figure out what to do. Now seriously, imagine how much smoke 10 oven mitts can generate - I was really struggling to breathe...to this day, I don't like to be around oven mitts because all I can think of is that acrid smell and the inability to breathe. But I grabbed a large container and filled it with water which I promptly threw at the oven. I then realized that throwing water at an oven isn't going to do me a lot of good if the flames are inside the oven so I slowly opened that oven drawer and poured water in it, bit by bit, till I had extinguished the flames.

Once the fire was out, I realized I needed to air out the apartment...and not just my unit, but the entire building. Later on that evening, my upstairs neighbor, whom I had a wee bit of a crush on, came down and asked me if I thought the aprtment building smelled like something burnt...at which point, I admitted that I had almost burned the whole damn place down with my oven mitts. His response? He just laughed. I then called my landlords, pertrified that they would give me the boot becauase really, who wants a pyromaniac for a tennant, right? Only, they just laughed once I finally told them what had happened...apparently, almost burning your house down and killing yourself and your pets in the process is kinda funny...who knew?

For the next few days, everyone at work kept telling me I smelled like burnt something or another...after two days of that, I caved in and told my co-workers what had happened - and they too laughed. It then became clear to me that I was not meant to be a firefighter because no one seemed to be taking my efforts at putting out fires and saving others from smoke inhalation very seriously. I wouldn't make a very good fireman if I was trying to put out a fire and rescue a child from a bulding and everyone around me just kept giggling, right? So at least this whole experience helped me rule out that profession....

Ow...Ouch...OUCH!!!

2006-06-24T21:39:00.000-07:00

Redlaw is a really fitting name for me now, and not in the way that you might expect. I am currently a bright shade of flourescent pink rather than being my normal white self. Why? Because I thought it would be positively brilliant to go to Bear Lake today and lay out for 3 hours without any sunscreen. Why is this brilliant? Because my mother has been nagging me for the last couple of months to get a tan or something so that I would match the rest of the wedding party for Younger sister #1's ceremony.

See, while I have embraced my whiteness and, in fact, adore the fact that you can't see me if I stand in front of a white wall, my mom and sisters have taken a different route to self-acceptance...they have baked themselves into looking like Africans. Normally, I don't care that they are all 20 shades darker than any known member of the extended family but now I do because if I have to listen to my mom bitch about my looks or my haircolor or really anything at all again, I am going to shove a fork in my ear, in hopes of rupturing the eardrum and finally finding some peace and quiet.

But rather than give up my already failing hearing, I decided to go ahead and give myself skin cancer and wrinkles because I'd rather deal with those problems than deal with my mom's incessant nagging. I do tan....it's just a very painful process that involves a good burning first. Since I am petrified of tanning beds ever since that sorority ordeal in college (I'm scared I'm going to get locked in a bed), the only real way for me to tan is to actually go out in the daytime, something I usually avoid at all costs. And now I remember why. I am burnt to a crisp. And it hurts and I'm tired.

However, aside from carrying out my mother's plot to kill me in my youth, I did have a wonderful time today at Bear Lake - my roomie KT, one of her friends, and I enjoyed ourselves immensely which is not hard to do when you're surrounded by scenic nature and good friends. Bear Lake itself is a stunning place to go and the ride out is pretty easy on the eyes as well - here's some pics to prove it:

This is a shot of the canyon we drove through to get to Bear Lake.

My roomie as seen by the rear-view mirror.

No group of photos is complete without a shot of at least one of my feet....

Coming down the canyon towards what else? Bear Lake!

Bear Lake from the road...

and again.

One Of The Harder Goodbyes

2006-06-22T22:58:00.000-07:00

With the countdown to my departure in full swing, it comes time for me to start thinking about saying my goodbyes....and sadly, I am saying one of those goodbyes much sooner than I'd like. You may have noticed the mention of a good friend of mine, Miss NYC, on the blog several times. If you haven't, she's my friend who is moving to NYC (hence the name) to teach in an inner-city junior high for a couple of years. Miss NYC leaves in a few days and so the time has come to say goodbye.

This isn't the first time we've said goodbyes, uncertain of when we'd meet again. I met Miss NYC in Cincinnati and said goodbye to her there, not knowing that only a year and a half later, we would bump into each other completely randomly out here in SLC. At least this time, we know we will be visiting each other, starting with a weekend trip I'll be making to the Big Apple in September and including spring-time plans to rent a beach house at Myrtle Beach. We may be nerds, but we are nerds who know how to live it up and you can't ask for much more than that.

Miss NYC, I don't know if you're still getting the chance to read this blog. I know you're busy and I'm glad you were willing to take the night off to chill with me, even if I did have to drive to scary, mall-less Ogden to do so...I'll even do it again tomorrow night, partially because you and I are safer in a town with no malls, don't you think? If you are still reading, please know that I have had a blast spending time and money with you. There's no one else I'd rather be shallow with and at the same time, I can't think of a better person to catch a game with. Thanks for understanding, hands down, why I get misty-eyed and goose-bumpy at a movie like Glory Road and for knowing without question what makes a baseball game so much fun or a college hoops game so life-or-death. Thank you for indulging and encouraging my spendy ways, though my bank account now hates you...and thanks for giving me something to strive for - the Prada competition is alive and well, no matter how far away you are.

Most of all, thanks for being a friend. Moreso than shopping or sports-watching with you, I have enjoyed the talks we've shared along the way. (Can you imagine that? I liked the conversations more than the purchases - that's almost blasphemy, huh?) You have been a great friend to me and though I will miss you dearly, I wish you nothing but success and happiness in New York...and I'm way excited to come visit too!

So here's to your new start - I'll join you in that endeavor shortly!

I'm Not Quite Dead Yet

2006-06-21T19:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, I suck as a blogger, I know. Going almost 4 days without a post? What the hell? People need me! I can't just go off on a bloggie vacation just because of trauma and drama and fatigue in my own life, right? I mean, the nerve.

But for real, folks, I just keep getting hit with new realizations each day of how painfully unprepared I am to move across the country and stop having an income.... Between emails from J. Crew and Anthropologie, coveting a new Prada purse, wanting some bling from Tiffany's, and pretending to save money for the imminent move, i'm just really not sure this student-living-in-a-cardboard-box thing is really gonna work out, you know? I've become accustomed to living above the poverty line...I'm not so sure I can handle dipping below it again to feast on ramen noodles and tuna fish...yeckh!

Shallowness aside (and yeah, that's super-hard for me to stop being shallow for any amount of time), I have been a bit stressed lately and the move is the main source of said angst. Even though things are falling into place all around me, there's still a big bolt of nervousness in my stomach that I don't anticipate parting with until I either win the lottery that I never play, strike oil in my backyard (which is really gonna be a feat since I have no backyard), or make it safely out to Virginia and manage to have two cents left when I start classes. I know it will all work out but I do love to give myself ulcers and aneurysms worrying over things I cannot really control.

So here are the upsides to my life as it stands....

I am fashionable...yeah, so I can't ever buy another piece of clothing again until 20 years from now when all my loans are paid off....at least I have a great wardrobe now, right?

I have found a place to live in Williamsburg and it is everything I wanted. That's right. My soon-to-be-roommate, who I will refer to for now as Yale-waii, since she went to Yale and is from Hawaii, have found a place just blocks away from both the law school and Colonial Williamsburg. It fulfills my requirements by being old and having hardwood floors and it meets Yale-waii's standards by being cheap and close to campus (guess which one of us is the practical one). So I am very relieved and excited to actually have a place with my name on it.

I have found a [relatively] affordable way to move across the country and I get to take my current roommate KT along for the fun. KT graciously asked to come with me to Virginia since she has never been east of Denver and wants to see what the other side of the US has to offer. I'm all for having a friend along, though I am not sure she'll know what to do with the humidity that will inevitably greet us once we get there.

So, with a month exactly left before me here in Utah, I guess I have no choice but to start tying up the lose ends and getting ready to head out. And I have not forgotten my friends in Wisconsin - if you ladies are game, I still want to make a stop there on the way out to Cincy for the Wedding of the Century *gag* (no offense, younger sister #1).

Wow....And I Thought I Was Cool....

2006-06-17T15:06:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone! All three of you that read my blog, listen to this! I received the coolest email I have ever received from a blog reader. Apparently, an amazing New Yorker, Amanda, has been checking out my blog and she sent me an email today to say how much she enjoys it, blah blah. But that's not the cool part. Amanda's email went on to explain a little bit about her own blog, which she runs with two other fabulous chicas. They are The Lost Girls and I urge you to check out their blog - what they are going to embark on in about 4 days is utterly amazing to me.

These ladies are packing up for a year-long trek to five different continents - this is actually on my list of 100 things to do before I die and if I hadn't already thrown so much money at law school, I'd probably try to coerce these three girls into letting me go too. It's amazing. Please check out their site and keep up on their adventures. Seriously, I can't think of a more life-changing event than leaving all the routine and crap behind to see the world for a year. You girls rock and I, for one, am so excited for your trip! Best of luck and enjoy chasing your dreams from all of us here who want to chase them with you!

I Hit A Mime On The Way To Work....

2006-06-16T07:28:00.000-07:00

Actually I didn't but I wish I had because that would be a hell of a lot more interesting than anything that has really happened in my life recently. Besides, you have to wonder, if you hit a mime, does it make a sound? Or does it die silently? Kinda like that "If a tree falls in the forrest..." question, you know?

Anyway, my life has become boring. I blame it on the Mormons. Damn them and their happy peaceful ways.....oh wait, I am one...that's like damning myself, huh? But seriously, it's like an episode of the Stepford Wives around here lately. Only not as interesting since none of these people are actually being killed and turned into robots but how freakin' rad would that be??? Anything would be cooler than sitting here, banging my head against a computer screen, trying to pull anything out of my butt to blog about...and you know, with my butt being so large, there should be plenty in there but alas, I got nothing, nada, zilch.

How is this possible? Drama follows me like a good stalker...has it left my life for greener pastures? Did all the drama finally get tired of the limited amount of material it has to work with around here and head for the hills...literally? I don't want a peaceful life - those are boring!!!! Blogging demands a certain amount of angst and what am I gonna do if I can't deliver? My (two) readers depend on trauma in my life for their entertainment!! I can't let them down! This is horrible! What can I do to get rid of this happiness? This sudden calm and peaceful feeling in my life has got to go! I mean it. Get out, joy. You're not welcome 'round these parts. We only want pain and suffering and really funny embarrassments, got that?

Roommates I Won't Sleep With....

2006-06-15T07:12:00.000-07:00

After all the "fun" I've had living with roommates out here, I vowed that I would not be taking a roommate in Virginia. In fact, I went so far as to say that the only roommate I would be living with in the future would be my husband and even then, I was going to have to think long and hard about allowing us to share a house. Seems to me that there's a lot of good to be had in keeping separate houses while married but that's a topic for another post.

Anyway, I was resolute that I would live on my own once again. I'm too damn old to be sharing my space with others especially if I'm not getting any action in return, right? Well, no. Wrong. Turns out that unless I want to take out student loans just for housing, I am going to have to find a roommate to split the cost of rent. Living in Williamsburg is not cheap - who knew? I mean, sure, it's a cute city, a nice touristy place but it also costs an arm and a leg to live in that sleepy little town. Since I am already giving an arm and a leg to the law school, and I am not fond of the idea of being a financial parapelegic, I've started to consider the idea of a roommate, though it hurts my heart to do so.

Luckily, I may have found the world's coolest roomie. I have found a girl who is about my age (maybe even a year older than me!!!) that graduated from yale and hails from Hawaii. This is a good combo on a number of levels. First off, she's got the drive to succeed - most kids that graduate from a place like Yale are pretty ambitious and she's no exception. But she's also got that laid-back surfer vibe that you get from people that grow up on islands. I call this the KT vibe, in honor of my current roommate, KT (otherwise known as Laid-Back Poly Lover). I like the KT vibe because it is very soothing and balances out my uptight, stressed Redlaw vibe which normally kills everything in its path but can be turned off in an instant by listening to mellow guitar chords and eating mangos, as KT has demonstrated numerous occasions in our time together as roommies.

I talked to Potential Supercool Roommate on Sunday for 2 hours over the phone. Now, for those of you who don't know how big that is, let me explain. I don't like phones. I don't like talking on them AT ALL. I will weasel my way out of phone conversations all the time. Two hours on a phone is like torture to me....forget pulling my toenails off - just make me sit on a phone for more than a half-hour and I will tell you whatever you want to know - hell, I'll confess things I didn't even do just to get out of that. But for 2 hours on Sunday, I enjoyed talking to this girl across the country. I didn't even realize how much time had passed. Amazing. I think I may have just found a person I can stand to live with for a year or so.

So wish me luck....or maybe, wish Potential Roomate luck. Because it looks like I just found someone crazy enough to want to share a place with me without marrying me...heaven help us all....

Everything I Do....I Do It For You.....

2006-06-13T21:30:00.000-07:00

Dedication is hauling my ass down here to work at 10:26 at night because my effing laptop won't get a signal at home so that I can blog. Now that's love and I hope you all feel it because that's about as much as you get out of my tiny, shrunken heart. Seriously though, we need to chat. I have issues. Stop laughin' and yappin', "Tell me about it," at the computer monitor and just listen for a few seconds so I can explain what the issues are - I know you have your own ideas but that's why you kids can go start your own blogs - this one's mine.

So here's my problem....I'm too emotional with inanimate objects. I mean, if my scale causes me to break into tears and my laptop pushes me to cursing (yeah, that's a hard push, huh?) and my car makes me want to kiss it on a daily basis, well, good grief - is it any wonder that real, live breathing things are a bit afraid of me? I mean, seriously, if I am willing to chuck a toaster across a room (completely hypothetically speaking, of course) then what would I be prompted to do if a real live person peeved me, right?

See, I'm thinking maybe I need a little detachment in my life. Maybe I could start my decompression by easing up on the inanimate things around me and then seeing of that would flow to easing up on the living things in my life. Like maybe if I stop hating computers and their new-fangled technologies like the on/off button et al. then maybe I will be nicer to boys...do you see where I'm going with this? Maybe I'll stop being so bitchy whilst slaving, I mean, shelving away at the library. Maybe I'll start being nice to that one guy at work that makes me vomit a little bit in my mouth when every time he attempts to speak to me...maybe this would be the start of a kinder, gentler Redlaw....

Or, barring all that warm, fuzzy, new age stuff, maybe I could bring my laptop with me the next time it decides to be a little bitch and I could toss it from the sixth-story window and watch it smash to the ground, laughing all the while at its crippled form while cars run over its hard drive...that'll teach you to have no internet reception, you piece of crap....

*sigh*

I definitely have issues....

Quote Of The Weekend

2006-06-12T08:25:00.000-07:00

I'm just one mental breakdown away from a cigarette, a beer, and some wild sex.....

Me to my dad as we were talking about who-knows-what. His response? Laughter. Why? Because he knows this is Salt Lake where there are no good beers or cigs worth having and he knows this is me....the likelihood of me getting any action, let alone wild sex, is as probable as Hell freezing over. Good to know that there's always love and support to find in the family....

That's A Wrap.

2006-06-09T08:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, I made it. I'm done. As of Wednesday night, I finished all of my projects and finals....everything is turned in and now I start waiting for the results. I have already received the final grade for one class but I have two more to receive marks from. I am kind of curious as to how three classes led to 5 finals but I suppose that was my price for not having to write a thesis...though I would have taken the thesis anyday over group projects...yuck.

It's strange to realize that this is it....for 2 months, at least. But the next time I'm in a classroom, it will be a real one and not just the warm glow of my laptop screen. Taking classes online is a surreal experience. And one that seems to be a bit controversial. When I went to William & Mary for the admitted students weekend, I had a chance to meet with the head of the law library since I will be the law librarian fellow there next year....though they have offered this fellowship for five years now, I am the first to receive it...I guess it's not so common to run from one graduate degree to another....

Anyway, as I was telling this man about my degree and what I had learned, etc., he expressed his feelings about online education...how he felt that an online degree did not carry as much weight as a degree granted from a traditional university environment. While the red-headed part of me wanted to fight with him right then and there, my better side stepped in and reminded me that brawling with your future "boss" is not a good way to start things. So I acknowledges his concerns and pointed out some of the things I felt I had gained from doing classes online and left it at that. He'll find out soon enough that an online education, at least in my case, is every inch as valid as one in a classroom.

But I understand his point. Before I started this program, I was disdainful of online programs...to me, they equated to nothing more than the University of Phoenix or ITT Tech. I thought of online degrees as the collegiate equivalent of vocational school in high school - where you went if you couldn't hack the "real" class load. I admit, I was an academic snob. Even when I took "online" classes at UK, I still had to be on campus for several face-to-face classes, tests, and finals...and all the researching...I might as well have been a regular student. So when I moved out here to Utah, the land of no Library Sciences programs, my only alternative was to go with a true online course...I couldn't fly back to UK every other week, though I would have done so if I could have afforded it.

In my first quarter 100% online, I got a bit of a reality check....online classes were not just something I could breeze through on autopilot. While I could choose when I would handle the workload, I couldn't lessen the load....because I would pay for that later, like on the exams. It was a bit of a humbling experience for me. I admit that I am a bit of a slacker when it comes to classes and doing assignments, etc. I did well in college with minimal effort on my part - I was the student you loved to hate - the one who missed half the classes, rolled in late for the final and walked out with an "A." Now if I liked a class, I would pay attention and participate, blah blah...but there were many classes that I sat through where I didn't even know the professor's name or official title of the class - I was just there to fulfill a requirement and move on to better things.

In that aspect, online classes were a lot harder for me. There was no breezing through. Even if I found the subject matter mind-numbingly boring, I had to pay attention and do every assignment, participate in the online discussions and all that crap because that was the only way to get a grade...it wasn't like college where I could lie about why I had missed half the quarter (if you check with various professors at my undergraduate university, you will discover that I had mono more than any other person in the history of mankind...let's just hope those professors never talk to each other and put two and two together, right?).

So my point in all this is that I can honestly say that the online program, it meant something to me. I have always loved school because it is something I can do well, but until my online experiences, I didn't realize how much I had taken for granted or had abused in my traditional education. I learned a lot about self-discipline doing online classes and I needed that, as I am not one who is naturally inclined towards discipline of any kind. Damn the man, anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian, hippie, etc. etc. As I get ready for law school and start freaking out over horror stories that people tell me about the first year, I am glad I did this degree. I think I'll be a better student in the real classroom this time around.

No Worries...I'll Be In A Corner, Finding A Cure To Cancer...

2006-06-07T06:48:00.000-07:00

So I'm a little salty.....okay, a lot salty. I know I haven't been posting a lot lately...or at all, whatever. But I'm trying my damnedest to finish my interminable finals, which, of course, are harder this time than they have ever been - nothing says "Bye, thanks for getting your degree from us!" like having your ass handed to you by a set of exams. But that's not what makes me salty...because, yeah, right now sucks...but in a couple of days, I will be FREE! And I'll have a Masters!!!! Yea me!

Here's what makes me salty...and yeah, I know this is gonna sound petty but, for real people, when have I ever claimed to be anything but? So I'm getting this graduate degree, right? And I think that's a pretty effing big deal...maybe that's dumb of me. Apparently, it is if my family's reaction is any indication of things. Besides my dad congratulating me (thanks, Dad!) no one has said a word to me - nada. They have managed to send me an invite to my sister's wedding which is irritating because do I really need to receive an invitation to that disastrous occassion? I mean, duh, it's my sister. Even though I'd rather have a root canal without anesthesia rather than attend that excuse for long-lost relatives to remind me that my ovaries are rapidly turning to dust and my younger sister is far better than me in every way, I'll be there. So I can receive wedding invitations but I can't get a congrats on graduating to save my life. I half-think that if I were to keel over dead right this second, my mom's first reaction would be, "Well, that's one last person we have to feed at the reception..."

I mean, I get it....we have less than 2 months to the BIG DAY (i.e. - my day in Hell). I know my mom and sisters have gone into full frenzy last minute planning mode, complete with froth at the mouth....but I'm only going to get my Masters in Library Sciences once. I know it isn't a husband but, damn Gina, can't a girl get a flippin' phone call or a post card or something? And is this how it's gonna go forever? Is Younger Sister #1 going to spend the rest of our lives outdoing me? Like when I get my law degree, will she just happen to give birth that day? To the grandkids I can't produce? Sweet. I can hardly wait. I never liked that bitch much anyway...I knew she was trouble from the start. Kidding, kidding. I love my sister, I do. And I am incredibly proud of her and happy for her to marry this amazing man who has been a part of her life, and my family's life, for seven years now. But I just wish I didn't feel so ignored. What can I say? I'm good at whining.

Internet Tag

2006-06-02T15:06:00.000-07:00

Some jerk (you know who you are) tagged me and so now, here I am doing another one of the stupid list things. For future reference, I don't do internet tag. So if you are looking for someone to pass the survey to, I am not that someone. Fair warning. Anyone who tags me after this should not expect me to respond....unless it's supercool, of course. So here we go:

I AM:

breathing.

pissed to be doing this thing.

rad.
(take your choice - I go with all of the above)

I WANT: to reproduce someday....or at least enjoy the act that leads to reproduction.

I WISH: I had a grenade launcher or a lazor vaporizer attached to the hood of my car for annihilating other bad drivers.

I HATE: soggy bread...EW...it makes me want to toss my cookies just thinking about it....

I MISS: home. Don't know where it is but I miss it.

I FEAR: the dark, ghosts and other assorted monsters and zombies, feeling trapped, dying alone with a lot of cats, scorpions, ebola, flesh-eating items of any kind, clowns,....this goes on for a while.....

I HEAR: less than you'd think. I have terrible hearing.

I WONDER: what I'd look like with no hair...or a mullet....or a rat's tail...

I REGRET: that incident with the Scandinavian guy, a microwave, some llamas and some duct tape....yeah, that was a sticky situation...

I AM NOT: coherent....ever.

I DANCE: on tables and in elevators - oh yes!

I SING: when I think no one is listening.

I CRY: too often - damn girly hormones.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: funny. Sometimes, I am downright effing HILARIOUS.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: awkward sentences, apparently. This is a lame question.

I WRITE: better than you do.

I CONFUSE: everyone around me on a daily basis.

I NEED: we don't have enough time to cover all my needs.

I SHOULD: take more sedatives instead of laxatives...who knew there was such a difference?

I START: panicking if I am not at least 5 minutes early to where ever I am going.

I FINISH: this tag thingy.

Vacation Pictures

2006-05-31T06:39:00.000-07:00

I am in the midst of finals and don't have enough time to give a full report of my Memorial Day festivities but until I can get back here and do an official post, these pics will have to tide you over. Enjoy!

Something That Gets My Panties In A Wad.....

2006-05-25T14:41:00.000-07:00

I hate these:

Lawn Geese are an abomination in my eyes. I hate them and I hate their costumes. Like this:

Now I can understand why Scrooge was such an asshole - his neighbors probably dressed their lawn geese up like this every damn Christmas. But it gets worse (better?). Check this out:

This one makes me feel sorry for the Irish - it's bad enough that they're all lushes but now we dress geese up like them? Tough break, guys. Better go grab a Guiness to cope. But America, you're not any safer from the damn lawn geese and their stupid clothes:

This makes me want to be communist.

And finally, even Christ's death is mocked by the lawn geese:

When I was a kid, we would get a new Easter dress every year.....so when did lawn geese start getting their own special holiday clothes? Little bastards. And look at the one dressed as a rooster - how flippin' ridiculous. It's a concrete goose - why dress it up as another bird????? And a side note - what in the bloody hell do roosters have to do with Easter???? Explain, please!

Ugg, these things and the people who have them are just another sign in my mind of the decline of civilization - this is how the Roman Empire fell, you know? They started putting lawn geese out and then they started dressing said geese in togas and the rest is history.

What I really like to see, and what my friends and I did in high school, is the lawn geese dressed up in lingerie. Now that, my friends, is a classy idea. Nothing is funnier than a lawn goose wearing a strategically stuffed black lace teddy....think about it for a minute - trust me, you'll laugh. And then you'll want to do it yourself.

Spiders Among Us

2006-05-24T07:12:00.000-07:00

I got home from the library last night and I was craving some KFC....don't ask me why but I wanted some chicken and I wanted it right then. But apparently, I didn't want it bad enough because I found myself sucked into watching The Thorn Birds on the Oxygen Channel (Thank you, God, for the O Channel). For those who aren't familiar with The Thorn Birds, it was a novel and then a miniseries made in 1983. I read the book when I was 10...to this day, it's about the closest thing to smut lit that I can claim to have read from cover to cover....in fact, I'm surprised my mom let me read it but oh well....

So anyway, after I pulled myself away from the intense, magnetic hold that is Richard Chamberlain dressed as a priest (don't look directly in his eyes - he'll suck your soul out), I decided at about 10:30 at night to finally grab some dinner...yeah, healthy eating is WAY over-rated. I climb in my car and head out to grab some yum-yum KFC. At a stop light about .2 seconds away from KFC, I notice something out of the corner of my eye moving on the driver's side window. Turning to look, I am confronted by a spider crawling on the inside of the window...approximately six inches away from my head. Now this wouldn't be so bad, creepy yes, but not horrible, if the damn thing hadn't been the size of a field mouse or possibly a baby squirrel. I am not messing around here people. Sweet baby Zeus, the thing was at least 2 inches in diameter. I could see its EYES!!!!!

At that point, I did something I have never done before. Now I know I am a bit of a wussy. I'm afraid of the dark, I cry, yada yada. But for the first time in my life, I started whimpering. Whimpering is much different from whining, sighing, groaning, or crying because no tears are shed, no words are verbalized, and it is repeated over and over - that's whimpering and last night, I discovered that I am a certifiably kick-ass whimperer. It's amazing that I managed to move the car once the light turned green and honestly, the only thing that kept me from getting out of the damn thing and leaving it abandoned right there at that intersection was the fact that the spider was on the driver's side door. I mean, I was so freaked out by that monster that I forgot to keep my foot on the brake until I noticed that the car was rolling backwards.

So the spider crawls off the window and into somewhere behind me which causes me to break out into full-fledged screams because I'll be damned if that thing comes up from behind me and sucks the brains out of my head. I tore into the KFC parking lot, grabbed my purse, and threw myself out of the car as though I expected it to explode at any moment.....needless to say, I attracted some attention from the workers inside KFC who were busy cleaning up. And yeah, I totally left the keys in the ignition, with the car on. I did not care...as far as I was concerned, my car had just become Cherynobel and it was my duty to stay the hell away from it for the rest of time and all eternity.

I did what any logical person would do at this time - I called my dad and between whimpers, explained to him what was wrong. He seemed to understand my "hesitation" to want to get back in the car, especially after I explained to him the size of the spider. And then, while on the phone with him, I saw the damn spider crawling around in the car again, this time on my keys, and broke out into new whimpers and hysterics. But then the spider dropped out of site, under the driver's seat...ah, hell no. I was not getting into a car while that large woodland creature spun itself a home under the seat, all the while waiting for the perfect moment to jump out at eat the back of my leg off while I was innocently driving around....absolutely not.

My dad, being a man and able to think about things like spiders without screaming and abandoning otherwise fine vehicles, told me to call my roommates to have them come pick me up or bring RAID or whatever....I think he recommended this in order to keep me from being pegged as a loony by passers-by who undoubtedly thought I was escaped from a mental institution, what with my sudden outbursts and frantic running around my car. So I called for back-up and told the roommies to bring the RAID. I was not going down without a fight and if that spider thought it could have my Jetta that easily, it had another thing coming.

The roommies showed up a few minutes later and I grabbed the RAID from them while they eyed the car suspiciously. None of us are big fans of bugs, and of the three, I am the "brave" one when it comes to killing house intruders of the insect variety. So I was in this alone. No problem. By now, I was ready to fight for my car. I began atom-bombing the interior of my car with RAID. I opened only one door and I sprayed, oh, the entire can of RAID into the car. There was no way that little bastard was gonna survive. I then slammed the door and sat on the curb, determined to wait until the fumes had killed my eight-legged nemesis.

By now, the KFC workers weren't even pretending to slyly watch what was going on - they just stood there, gathered around the window, looking at me and my car. One of them came out to talk with me, most likely attempting to do a mental examination to determine if the others should call 911 and ask for restraints to be sent ASAP. I ignored him, talking on the phone to my dad instead. As we talked, I saw something on the OUTSIDE of my car moving around....that damn spider must have crawled out of my car while I was RAIDing it and was sitting there on the passenger door. I got up and yelled, grabbed my RAID and sprayed the animal into oblivion. The KFC worker stood there staring and waited till I hung up with my dad and then he went back inside, probably to tell the gang all about the mammoth spider I had just singlehandedly killed.

Even still, I wasn't super-keen on getting in my car. For real...I felt dirty. My car felt dirty....and I don't care how much you try and cover the smell of RAID with Garden Fresh scent, it still stinks....so I warily got back into my car and, feeling guilty for having almost left her to the clutches of the world's LARGEST and MOST DEADLY spider, I drove her to the car wash to clean her up and air her out.

I would also like to note that fighting for my life and the life of my car left me completely without appetite and I did not even so much as order anything at KFC. When you almost die, things come into perspective and you realize that there is so much more to life than extra-crispy chicken and mash potatoes...mmmm.....potatoes.....

Someone Else's Sins...For Once...

2006-05-23T07:12:00.000-07:00

Normally, this site is all about me and that's the way I like it.....I figure I make enough mistakes and chaos to keep this blog lively. But today, I am making an unprecedented move (seeing as there are only 5 posts on here, that's not saying a lot) and telling you about someone else's foibles.

I have this friend and I have raved about her before - Miss NYC. She is my partner in all crimes that have anything to do with spending money and looking fabulous. Miss NYC, some of you may recall, went to Paris with me back in November and is also moving out East with me this summer - we are out to conquer the East Coast. She and I met out in Cincinnati a few years ago and then hooked up for more fun out here (I'm using the term fun loosely there because I'm nost sure you can actually live in Utah and have fun...I think that breaks a law of physics or something).

Anyway, Miss NYC and I went up to Park City on Friday night for some shopping (Hello, Coach outlet, and Hello, my new purse!!!) and a movie. While eating dinner and basking in the afterglow of our purchases, Miss NYC looked over at me, and said, with a sheepish look, "So, are you ready to hear about my trauma?" I stared back at her in response. In the normal scheme of life, I am the one with trauma and Miss NYC is the one who listens and shakes her head at my antics, consoling me while thinking to herself, "Dude, Redlaw is SO going to Hell..." I didn't know what to do with this reversal of roles...life as I knew it came to a standstill and I was pretty certain that the Earth's rotation could be set askew with an abnormality like this....so I told Miss NYC to spill the trauma, feeling excited to know what could possibly be traumatic in an otherwise spotless life such as the one led by my perfect friend.

Miss NYC proceeded to tell me the following story:

Well, you know, I told my boss at work that I am moving to NYC and he decided to send an email to everyone in the company, just letting them know that I am leaving, that I'll be missed, etc. When he and I had originally talked about my plans in life, I had mentioned to him how I had been accepted to NYU for med school but had differed it for a year or so...

I need to take a moment here and explain that Miss NYC is not only a killer shopping companion, she's also a flipping genius....I kid not. She was accepted to some of the top medical schools without even applying just because that was how high her MCAT scores were. I also need to explain that Miss NYC has decided to forego med school for now and is actually going to NYC with a program called Teach For America - she will be teaching Biology in an inner-city charter school for the next 2 years. Okay, back to the story:

So my boss sends out this email after I left work the other day and I come in today [Friday] and everyone starts congratulating me on the upcoming move....but then people start congratulating me on my acceptance, and that's normal enough right? Until someone asks me, "So are you nervous to go to medical school? NYU is a good school...that's gonna be hard...." I realize that something is up...so I turn on my computer and see the email my boss sent everyone...apparently, we never clarified the fact that I'm not going to NYC for medical school and his email is all about congratulating me on leaving Utah and the company to go to med school at NYU...."

Now, I had already said my thank yous to a couple of people without realizing the mistake in my bosses email....so I totally decided to go along with it....the rest of the day, I didn't bother to correct anyone...I just let everyone think that indeed, I am moving to NYC for med school....I feel horrible but I didn't want to make my boss look stupid and I DID really get accepted to NYU and I know enough about the med school process to answer peoples' questions...

By this time, I am laughing pretty hard at Miss NYC. You see, this girl is seriously almost perfect. She never makes a bad decision and the idea of her stuck in a lie is, well, to a sinner like myself, HI-LAR-IOUS! But, it gets better.....

So then, the CEO of the company comes to congratulate me and then he makes an announcement about how we're all going to go out to a nice dinner or whatever, ON THE COMPANY TAB, to celebrate my acceptance, etc.....So now, there's this big dinner planned and it's all a sham and I am so going to Hell over this.....

I console Miss NYC the best I can by letting her know that it's okay because I'll be in Hell with her and that's always a bonus. But seriously, I tell her, if she thinks she's going to Hell over this, then I am in real trouble because this is small potatoes compared to some of the stunts I've pulled. In any case, I had to share this story with the entire internet because, really, who hasn't been in an awkward situation like this? You want to do the right thing but sometimes, it's kinda hard to figure out what the right thing to do would be...especially when free meals are involved, you know?

A Return To Kindness For Myself

2006-05-20T12:02:00.000-07:00

In the past few months, I have not been kind to myself. Without realizing it, I have been sabotaging myself on several fronts and it is just now that my body and mind have reached the breaking point. Now, I am not a hippie and I don't hug trees because why would I risk getting bark all over my new cashmere from J. Crew? But, at the same time, I am a firm believer in the idea that the body has ways of displaying the results of too much negative energy and I can say, with reasonable certainty, that over this past week, my body has shown the toll I have taken on it, and my emotions have been utterly taxed.

So it is time for some changes. There's a notion out there that sometimes, in order to be good to somone you love, you have to be an asshole to them, and I have resisted this idea for quite some time but the wisdom behind the phrase has hit me full force. In an effort to finally show myself just how much I really am worth and how much I do deserve, I need to crack down on a few areas in which I have been lax. Previous to now, I have let my standards slip and it's time I start expecting more. I can't continue to settle and expect to be happy because settling will never lead to contentment. I have always held fairly high standards for myself and those around me but in recent months, I've allowed my own standards to fall a bit, in the name of avoiding any difficult situations or hard decisions. But really, isn't that what life is all about - making hard decisions? Taking the easy route leads to a really boring person and I don't want to be boring. Nor do I want to live with any regrets and I feel like the current path I am on has got "REGRET" written all over it in Neon flashing letters.

So there you go. No worries, the funny isn't going away. You can still expect me to show up dancing in elevators, throwing bricks at my car window, and participating in other inane activities that just seem to make so much damn sense at the time. But you can also expect a better version of me, Redlaw Ver. 2.0, if you will.