Hello, loyal blog readers! PS, tell your friends about my blog if you want, and I can invite them to read. We can start a whole grassroots movement for ME! It's brilliant.
Well, yesterday I was sworn in, and I am now a licensed attorney in the state of Missouri. It was a long day for me. The ceremony was in Jeff City, which is about 2 hours from downtown St. Louis, give or take depending on traffic. I, of course, got the very first registration time- at 7:45AM. If you're even minimally capable of doing math, you know that means I had to leave my house very early. I woke up around 4:30, a time of day that I'm not very familiar with and hope to never become familiar with. I left downtown around 5:15 and it immediately starting raining. I love rain, but not when I'm driving in it, because that means that the normally slow-moving drivers in St. Louis go even slower. It was all good though, because when I got about 50 miles from St. Louis, I was able to pick up the Kidd Kraddick feed from the station in Columbia. Victory!
I got to Jeff City around 7:20, checked in, and then had an hour to waste because my ceremony wasn't until 9:20. So I wandered the delightful streets of downtown Jeff. I'm of course being sarcastic, because Jeff has one cute street. The rest is just...there. FINALLY, my seating time came. I went through security, signed the Roll of Attorneys (this GIANT book everyone signs. I'm sure it dates back to the dawn of lawyer time in Missouri), and went to the courtroom. Apparently, even though I walked into the building when I was told to, I was late. When I walked upstairs a guy approached me and asked "are you Nicole?" I told him I was, to which he replied "oh, they're looking for you." What?! I wasn't even late. Whatever. So I had to make the walk of shame in front of everyone who was already seated. At least I got there before it actually started. Then the ceremony started. For all the hoopla with getting up early, driving two hours, and then waiting some more, the ceremony lasted about 20 minutes. The Chief Justice of the Missouri Supreme Court made some remarks, and there was a motion for admission, which was seconded and then sustained. And then we all had to recite the oath together. There were written oaths on our seats, so we just had to read from it. As the Chief Justice started, we all joined in. We were reading along and got to the word artifice, and the guy next to me mispronounced it. And then stumbled trying to fix it while we all kept going, so for the rest of the oath he had no idea where we were and was just mumbling words like you do when you're trying to sing a song and don't know the lyrics. "Law...constitution...mahrumm....watermelon." It's pronounced "arti-fiss" but he said "artif-ICE" (like frozen water). And then he looked shocked that everyone else said it differently. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I think if you're going to be an attorney, you should have a better than normal grip on the English language. I'll even go as far as to say superior. He tried to play it off afterwards by saying that he had looked up and lost his place. Whatever dude!
After the short-ceremony, I didn't stay for the reception. I was already tired and wanted home! I got back, went to lunch with Scott, and then I had to take Truman to the vet for his ear infection. Let me start by saying that I don't usually like taking animals to the vet, because I feel like the vet is looking down on me for anything that might be wrong with my pet. And they always make a million different suggestions about things I SHOULD do, or services I NEED. They make it sound so dreary.
So, after I waited for about 25 minutes past my appointment time in the stuffy, animal smelling exam room, the vet finally came in. I explained to her that we had tried cleaning his ears a few times and at first we thought it was just dirt from his new surroundings but we figured it was more so we brought him in. LIKE GOOD PET OWNERS. She looked into his ear and made a face that was a mix of shock and disgust and then she goes "Oh my." Well duh lady, that's why we're here. She then goes on to tell me how Truman is overweight, and that could lead to severe health problems later on. Basically telling me my dog was going to die a traumatic death. Again with the doom and gloom. For the record, Truman is 111 lbs. His ideal weight is about 105. So, yes I agree he needs to lose a few pounds, but he's a healthy boy. He's not a giant sausage with legs.
Then she starts running down the list of "recommended" vaccinations. Including the doggy flu shot. I shit you not. She starts talking about the effect of the weather on dog immune systems, and how just like humans they can be more susceptible during certain times of year. I'm sitting there thinking to myself "Bernese Mountain Dogs are bred to live in the SNOW OF SWITZERLAND." I think his immune system can handle the natural flu triggers. Then she suggested the doggy Lyme disease shot. This is apparently for dogs who go into the wild a lot- camping trips with their owners, hikes, etc. Truman doesn't even like to step on wet grass. I don't think we'll see him scaling a mountain anytime soon.
Then, to top it off, she says he has tartar, and recommends a full teeth cleaning and scaling. He's not even 3 and his teeth are fine. My family's 14-year-old Bichon JUST had her teeth fully cleaned last year. He could probably use a greenie or two, but everyone has tartar- get over it! I'm not going to spend 700+ dollars for you to sedate my dog and clean his teeth, when we can do at-home stuff to fix it. I know that's extremely disappointing to the money machine that is the vet's office, but she'll survive.
Anyway, $200 and a few vaccines and ear medicine later, he's as good as new. He did not enjoy the ear cleaning, and he hates the ear medicine dropper that gets stuck way down in his ears, so it's always a good time wrestling with him.
I think I'll go to Target now. Farewell for now.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Things I'm Afraid Of
I had a near-death experience today with an elevator, which reminded me of a lot of stuff that I'm terrified of.
Ok, so when I say near-death experience, I MIGHT be exaggerating. I was getting onto the elevator when the doors started to close, and I panicked. In my imagination the doors were closing on me, either crushing me or trapping and holding me as I am killed when the elevator starts to move. In reality, the sensors stopped the doors, and they opened back up to let me on. My deep-seated fear of elevator doors comes from this story:
OMG
Ever since I read about this I've been convinced that any elevator whose doors come close to shutting on me is going to decapitate me. I think this fear is legit, given the circumstances surrounding that poor guy's untimely demise. Because of that, anytime the elevator doors start to close anywhere near me, I start making nervous whimpering noises and use my cat-like reflexes. I did this today, and instead of gliding gracefully into the elevator, my heel got stuck in the crevice between the floor and the elevator, sending me awkwardly tumbling towards the unsuspecting man who was already standing inside. I'm also pretty sure the security guard who watches the footage could be heard laughing from his post in the lobby. Whatever, safety is my number one goal.
I'm also afraid of the grates in the sidewalk. This is for two reasons. One, I'm convinced that I'll step on a bad one and I will fall through into the underworld. I don't even know what goes on down there, but I remember in a movie that there was this giant alligator that lived in the underground city sewers, so therefore that is real and happens in every city. The second reason I'm afraid of them is the high probability that I will get a heel stuck and fall face first onto the sidewalk (it's a reasonable fear, considering that combined with my fear of elevator doors, this has happened). Long story short, I don't want to get eaten by an alligator, and I want to avoid any situation that puts me at a high probability of making an ass of myself.
Anyway, that's all I can think of for now. Solid entry I know. I'm practically a Pulitzer winner over here.
Ok, so when I say near-death experience, I MIGHT be exaggerating. I was getting onto the elevator when the doors started to close, and I panicked. In my imagination the doors were closing on me, either crushing me or trapping and holding me as I am killed when the elevator starts to move. In reality, the sensors stopped the doors, and they opened back up to let me on. My deep-seated fear of elevator doors comes from this story:
OMG
Ever since I read about this I've been convinced that any elevator whose doors come close to shutting on me is going to decapitate me. I think this fear is legit, given the circumstances surrounding that poor guy's untimely demise. Because of that, anytime the elevator doors start to close anywhere near me, I start making nervous whimpering noises and use my cat-like reflexes. I did this today, and instead of gliding gracefully into the elevator, my heel got stuck in the crevice between the floor and the elevator, sending me awkwardly tumbling towards the unsuspecting man who was already standing inside. I'm also pretty sure the security guard who watches the footage could be heard laughing from his post in the lobby. Whatever, safety is my number one goal.
I'm also afraid of the grates in the sidewalk. This is for two reasons. One, I'm convinced that I'll step on a bad one and I will fall through into the underworld. I don't even know what goes on down there, but I remember in a movie that there was this giant alligator that lived in the underground city sewers, so therefore that is real and happens in every city. The second reason I'm afraid of them is the high probability that I will get a heel stuck and fall face first onto the sidewalk (it's a reasonable fear, considering that combined with my fear of elevator doors, this has happened). Long story short, I don't want to get eaten by an alligator, and I want to avoid any situation that puts me at a high probability of making an ass of myself.
Anyway, that's all I can think of for now. Solid entry I know. I'm practically a Pulitzer winner over here.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
A dose of reality...
Sometimes we're all guilty of getting caught up in what's going on in our own lives, we forget about what our life means in the grand scheme of things. Yep, that's right. I'm going serious on everyone tonight. It's really easy for me to lament my misfortunes and challenges in my life, because it's my perspective and my definition of good and bad is based on the parameters set by my lifestyle and upbringing. When I was nosedeep in books, or when I worry about my future, it seems like the most important thing happening. That being said, sometimes it's good for me to get a healthy dose of reality.
I'm blessed. No, I didn't grow up living in a mansion and my first car wasn't a Mercedes (RIP Party Prizm...with your two A/C knobs, requiring the removal of one to use on the knobless A/C control), but I never knew I was missing out. My parents (the best in the world) made sure I had everything I could possibly need to thrive. I didn't care that my playhouse was made out of a giant wardrobe box. My dad cut a door and window shutters in that thing, and I was set. I never missed out. And even today, I might not yet be living the highroller life I imagined when I started law school (thanks economy!), but overall I'm surviving. I live in a great place, and I have the whole world ahead of me. It's easy to get caught up in the negative, but sometimes all it takes is a walk in the park to really remember what fortunes I do have.
Everyday in the park there are a variety of homeless people that come and go. Sometimes they hang out on benches; sometimes they just go for walks. When I first moved here, they made me nervous because they were part of the unknown. Now they make me feel safe. Granted some are probably sex offenders (I've looked it up and a vast majority in my zipcode are listed as homeless), but most are just people that have fallen on hard times and are making the best of it. One in particular has really had an impact on me. He is an older guy who often brings his little dog to the park. His dog is this cute black dog that's well-nourished and not missing out on anything. If anything she's well-taken care of, getting to go to the park all the time. Everyday, this man brings his dog to the park, and he watches her as he sits on a bench. His soft eyes have a quiet wisdom behind them, and the laugh lines that cross his face silently tell his story. He never frowns, and no matter what, he always has one eye on his beloved dog. I've never had a lengthy conversation with him, but when I do, there is so much I want to know. People like him make me wish I could do more. I've already promised myself that I'll never forget where I came from, and I'll never forget how fortunate I truly am, but it's people like him that will make sure I keep my promise. It would be so easy for him to turn inward, and stumble along through the confusion and despair of living without. But he doesn't. He smiles everyday, and even on my worst days his quiet happiness and love for his dog make me stop and watch. And when I do watch I can't help but smile too.
On a different, but equally important note, I want to send a quick shout out to everyone who has believed in me all these years. Thank you to my parents as always, who have made me their world since I was barely a plan for their future. Thank you to my family, who have always supported me, even though we're separated by time zones. Thank you to all my friends, who have always made me feel like a rock-star, and never doubted me, even when I doubted myself. And even though he doesn't read this, I have to thank my love, who never fails to tell me and show me how much I mean to him. If you DO read this, never doubt that the feeling is mutual. Look out for us, because we're going to take on the world together.
Anyway, that wraps up my serious side. Back to the regular programming.
I tried to get into someone else's car today. A Jeep Libby that looked a lot like George. The disconcerting part of this whole event is that a) I've done this before. I tried to get into a grey Jetta a few years ago, failing to notice the BABY SEAT in the back, and b) my Jeep has some distinguishing features that you'd think I would notice. Like, for instance, the fact that my Jeep has New Mexico plates. Or the fact that my Jeep has an A&M and a Mizzou emblem on the back. Or, perhaps the most obvious, the fact that my Jeep is BLUE, not BLACK. "Wow Nikki, how do you not notice that this car isn't even the right color?" I don't know, but if I were to pick an excuse, I'd go with the dimly lit garage. Also curious about this situation is that I got off the elevator on a completely wrong floor of the garage and had no idea. So when I discovered that I was essentially attempting grand theft auto, I panicked while frantically looking around for my own car. I started pressing the lock button to hear the horn honk, and was baffled when it was coming from the floor below mine. Sigh. Some things never change.
And now, I've exhausted all my creative juices for the day. So I bid you adieu, leaving you with the pic of the day.
I'm blessed. No, I didn't grow up living in a mansion and my first car wasn't a Mercedes (RIP Party Prizm...with your two A/C knobs, requiring the removal of one to use on the knobless A/C control), but I never knew I was missing out. My parents (the best in the world) made sure I had everything I could possibly need to thrive. I didn't care that my playhouse was made out of a giant wardrobe box. My dad cut a door and window shutters in that thing, and I was set. I never missed out. And even today, I might not yet be living the highroller life I imagined when I started law school (thanks economy!), but overall I'm surviving. I live in a great place, and I have the whole world ahead of me. It's easy to get caught up in the negative, but sometimes all it takes is a walk in the park to really remember what fortunes I do have.
Everyday in the park there are a variety of homeless people that come and go. Sometimes they hang out on benches; sometimes they just go for walks. When I first moved here, they made me nervous because they were part of the unknown. Now they make me feel safe. Granted some are probably sex offenders (I've looked it up and a vast majority in my zipcode are listed as homeless), but most are just people that have fallen on hard times and are making the best of it. One in particular has really had an impact on me. He is an older guy who often brings his little dog to the park. His dog is this cute black dog that's well-nourished and not missing out on anything. If anything she's well-taken care of, getting to go to the park all the time. Everyday, this man brings his dog to the park, and he watches her as he sits on a bench. His soft eyes have a quiet wisdom behind them, and the laugh lines that cross his face silently tell his story. He never frowns, and no matter what, he always has one eye on his beloved dog. I've never had a lengthy conversation with him, but when I do, there is so much I want to know. People like him make me wish I could do more. I've already promised myself that I'll never forget where I came from, and I'll never forget how fortunate I truly am, but it's people like him that will make sure I keep my promise. It would be so easy for him to turn inward, and stumble along through the confusion and despair of living without. But he doesn't. He smiles everyday, and even on my worst days his quiet happiness and love for his dog make me stop and watch. And when I do watch I can't help but smile too.
On a different, but equally important note, I want to send a quick shout out to everyone who has believed in me all these years. Thank you to my parents as always, who have made me their world since I was barely a plan for their future. Thank you to my family, who have always supported me, even though we're separated by time zones. Thank you to all my friends, who have always made me feel like a rock-star, and never doubted me, even when I doubted myself. And even though he doesn't read this, I have to thank my love, who never fails to tell me and show me how much I mean to him. If you DO read this, never doubt that the feeling is mutual. Look out for us, because we're going to take on the world together.
Anyway, that wraps up my serious side. Back to the regular programming.
I tried to get into someone else's car today. A Jeep Libby that looked a lot like George. The disconcerting part of this whole event is that a) I've done this before. I tried to get into a grey Jetta a few years ago, failing to notice the BABY SEAT in the back, and b) my Jeep has some distinguishing features that you'd think I would notice. Like, for instance, the fact that my Jeep has New Mexico plates. Or the fact that my Jeep has an A&M and a Mizzou emblem on the back. Or, perhaps the most obvious, the fact that my Jeep is BLUE, not BLACK. "Wow Nikki, how do you not notice that this car isn't even the right color?" I don't know, but if I were to pick an excuse, I'd go with the dimly lit garage. Also curious about this situation is that I got off the elevator on a completely wrong floor of the garage and had no idea. So when I discovered that I was essentially attempting grand theft auto, I panicked while frantically looking around for my own car. I started pressing the lock button to hear the horn honk, and was baffled when it was coming from the floor below mine. Sigh. Some things never change.
And now, I've exhausted all my creative juices for the day. So I bid you adieu, leaving you with the pic of the day.
Aww look at her go!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I've been doing this for over half my life...
What you might wonder? Watching Brett Favre play football. Including right now. He hasn't thrown an interception yet, because, well, he hasn't thrown the ball yet.
So, how are we all? I'm doing just dandy. I went to Target yesterday because I got a giftcard as a belated graduation present, and I needed a few things. I walk up to the checkout counter (with the "I'm open" light on), and set my items on the conveyor belt. The cashier finishes with the guy in front of me and then she turns to me with a look of pure annoyance on her face. She simultaneously switches off her lane light and begins this conversation:
Her: I'm closed.
Me: (pause) I just walked up and your light was on.
Her: Well it ain't anymore and I'm closed.
Me: (with a curious expression on my face) It didn't even blink to let me know you were about to close. You just turned it off right now.
Her: Yea because I just decided to close my lane.
Me: I have 3 items. You can't just ring me up really quickly?
Her: No. I'm closed.
Me: ....but you were just open? And then you just decided on a whim to close.
Her: Yep.
Me: Ok, I just wanted to make sure I had your inexplicable actions straight.
At this point I'm starting to get fairly irritated that she can't take the less than 2 minutes to ring up my chapstick, binder, and shampoo. She then CALLS OVER the manager to complain that I'm being unruly. Are you serious?! Yes, I am serious. I calmly explain what actually happened to the manager as Cashier McPanties-in-a-Wad rolls her eyes and tries to interrupt me. Finally the manager leads me to an open lane, to which I ask her if this cashier is also going to make up her own schedule, and she assures me that the new cashier won't. And I go on my way. I'm still not sure what happened in there, but I do know that I got my chapstick, binder, and shampoo home safely.
Let's see, what else. Ah, yes. The blood drive. They had a blood drive at work a few weeks ago, except unlike the blood drives at the law school, this one didn't happen in the middle of a common area. They did the actual drive on the Red Cross mobile lab outside the office. Yet somehow, the office STILL managed to smell like blood drive. The scent makes me nauseous. And the thought of being stabbed and drained makes me slightly light-headed. I admire and praise people that donate their blood. My dad is one of them. Every time he can, he does. And it doesn't even phase him. I pass out. Literally. I have to be near cool wet cloths and orange juice/crackers every time I need a shot or blood test at the doctor. I'm pretty sure that during a TB skin test the bubble in my skin made me faint on sight. I just can't do it. If there is every anyone I know specifically that needs my blood, I wouldn't hesitate, but I just can't do it for fun.
Anyway, so the whole office smells like blood drive. Latex, and blood...matter. I can't really explain what exactly the smell is, but it's very distinct. And then, somehow the blood drive smell infiltrated the air vents in my car, and EVERY TIME the air is running now it spews out blood drive odors into my car. And this was weeks ago! I don't get it. I can't escape it.
I suppose I'll finish with a count of things Cherry has eaten lately.
1. A dead bird off the sidewalk (she didn't eat it, but she really tried, necessitating me actually prying it from her mouth).
2. A frisbee.
3. Clothes hangers. I don't even know where she got them.
4. My clothes.
5. Scott's contact case.
6. My almost-empty old shampoo bottle. (???) She actually walked INTO the shower to get this, took it to the guest bed, and went to town.
7. Cat litter.
8. The stuffing from one of her massacred toys.
9. Another pen.
10. Truman's fur...that she pulled from his body while playing tug-o-war with his tail.
So, there you have it. Have a good night everyone!
So, how are we all? I'm doing just dandy. I went to Target yesterday because I got a giftcard as a belated graduation present, and I needed a few things. I walk up to the checkout counter (with the "I'm open" light on), and set my items on the conveyor belt. The cashier finishes with the guy in front of me and then she turns to me with a look of pure annoyance on her face. She simultaneously switches off her lane light and begins this conversation:
Her: I'm closed.
Me: (pause) I just walked up and your light was on.
Her: Well it ain't anymore and I'm closed.
Me: (with a curious expression on my face) It didn't even blink to let me know you were about to close. You just turned it off right now.
Her: Yea because I just decided to close my lane.
Me: I have 3 items. You can't just ring me up really quickly?
Her: No. I'm closed.
Me: ....but you were just open? And then you just decided on a whim to close.
Her: Yep.
Me: Ok, I just wanted to make sure I had your inexplicable actions straight.
At this point I'm starting to get fairly irritated that she can't take the less than 2 minutes to ring up my chapstick, binder, and shampoo. She then CALLS OVER the manager to complain that I'm being unruly. Are you serious?! Yes, I am serious. I calmly explain what actually happened to the manager as Cashier McPanties-in-a-Wad rolls her eyes and tries to interrupt me. Finally the manager leads me to an open lane, to which I ask her if this cashier is also going to make up her own schedule, and she assures me that the new cashier won't. And I go on my way. I'm still not sure what happened in there, but I do know that I got my chapstick, binder, and shampoo home safely.
Let's see, what else. Ah, yes. The blood drive. They had a blood drive at work a few weeks ago, except unlike the blood drives at the law school, this one didn't happen in the middle of a common area. They did the actual drive on the Red Cross mobile lab outside the office. Yet somehow, the office STILL managed to smell like blood drive. The scent makes me nauseous. And the thought of being stabbed and drained makes me slightly light-headed. I admire and praise people that donate their blood. My dad is one of them. Every time he can, he does. And it doesn't even phase him. I pass out. Literally. I have to be near cool wet cloths and orange juice/crackers every time I need a shot or blood test at the doctor. I'm pretty sure that during a TB skin test the bubble in my skin made me faint on sight. I just can't do it. If there is every anyone I know specifically that needs my blood, I wouldn't hesitate, but I just can't do it for fun.
Anyway, so the whole office smells like blood drive. Latex, and blood...matter. I can't really explain what exactly the smell is, but it's very distinct. And then, somehow the blood drive smell infiltrated the air vents in my car, and EVERY TIME the air is running now it spews out blood drive odors into my car. And this was weeks ago! I don't get it. I can't escape it.
I suppose I'll finish with a count of things Cherry has eaten lately.
1. A dead bird off the sidewalk (she didn't eat it, but she really tried, necessitating me actually prying it from her mouth).
2. A frisbee.
3. Clothes hangers. I don't even know where she got them.
4. My clothes.
5. Scott's contact case.
6. My almost-empty old shampoo bottle. (???) She actually walked INTO the shower to get this, took it to the guest bed, and went to town.
7. Cat litter.
8. The stuffing from one of her massacred toys.
9. Another pen.
10. Truman's fur...that she pulled from his body while playing tug-o-war with his tail.
So, there you have it. Have a good night everyone!
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