This is all so new!

This baseball in October thing has pretty much never happened in Dallas, but it seems like people are getting the hang of it pretty quickly.  The crowd shots don't feature morons wearing Cowboys jerseys like I would have expected.  People seem to have figured out how this works.  I never really cared about baseball until I moved to Missouri, where the people actually care about baseball.  No one really gives two craps about the Royals (except fireworks Fridays), and since the company I was in included some of the most avid Cardinal fans out there, the choice was easy.  The Cardinals are to St. Louis what the Cowboys are to Dallas.  Not just a team- a way of life.  So it was quite natural to get caught up in it.  In my 13 years of living in Dallas, I went to about 2 Ranger games.  BUT, I am a proud Native Texan and I am ON the bandwagon!  And this bandwagon is flying along.  I sure hope I don't fall off! 

The fall air is so crisp and has the faint hint of fireplace smoke.  I love it.  I have the window barely open, lest my cats get any daredevil ideas, but it's open enough to pick up the nice breeze that whips through the courtyard between the two buildings. 

There really isn't anything new to report.  It's almost Halloween and I haven't picked out any costume ideas.  I did decorate.  I just don't have the energy to go looking for a ridiculously overpriced and poorly made costume.  Perhaps I will make my own?  I'm such a seamstress *sarcasm*.  To date this is probably one of my more involved costumes:

The picture was taken on a leisurely stroll from O'Bannon's to Dry Bean around 11pm, but if you look closely you can see an over-the-top Marie Antoinette next to Douglas the sex crusader and Spiderman.  No that's not my hair.  Anyway, that was about as creative as I got.  So any ideas would be appreciated.  I don't even know if I'm DOING anything for Halloween, but I would hate to be unprepared.  

Anyway, I'm off for now.  This was wildly entertaining, I know.  I know how to keep an audience coming back for more.  I leave you with Truman and his "stick."

He was so agile with this thing, bumping into shit and trying to carry it, but essentially just dragging it along.  Whatever keeps him happy.

Wedding Bells

Two posts in one day!  How rebellious I am!  I actually typed that other post a few days ago and just now posted it.  So, it's not really that scandalous.


Anyway, I went to a wedding yesterday.  When I first got engaged, I was in excited planning mode, and booked all the venues pretty much immediately.  Then, the bar exam happened and I started working all the time, so I haven't been as aggressive in planning for quite some time.  To be honest, the majority of the stuff I have to plan doesn't really get my creative juices flowing (as I've said before, I don't get excited by napkin designs, chairback ties, or menu styles).  Because of that, I had started to wish I hadn't booked anything, and instead we were just going to go on a super honeymoon with a quick courthouse wedding.  But, the wedding yesterday rekindled my interest in actually planning a wedding.  I still don't care about some of the supremely OCD details, but I am excited to revisit some of the ideas I found back when I first got engaged.  So I figured I'd share some of what I like.  I promise not to bombard you with post after post about weddings.  Every now and then I just want to post some stuff I like.  So, here goes:

The ceremony venue is the Jewel Box in St. Louis.  It was built in 1936, renovated a few years ago, and it's on the National Historic Register.

We sneaked in while they were setting up for a wedding to see what it looked like with chairs.  I like!

I like it because I think it's a pretty unique venue, and it has a pretty rich history in St. Louis.  That and there are beautiful flowers blooming year-round both inside the building and outside.  Well, they probably don't bloom in the dead of winter, but pretty close to year-round.   We went this year towards the end of August to see what it looked like, and I was impressed.  Even better that the greenery and flowers on the inside have some pink accents to them, matching the pink accents I want in my colors.

The reception is going to be at Windows on Washington in downtown St. Louis.  It's just a few blocks from our loft.  I was unaware of it's popularity when we booked it, but everytime I tell someone where our reception is they have great things to say about it.  So yay. 

 

This is our reception room.  It's on the top floor, and we have the whole floor to ourselves (no sharing bathrooms!)

When we took these pics, they were setting up for another event.

Once you book the venue, you don't have to pay extra depending on the room you choose; price is all based on the package you pick.  So we chose the top floor room because we loved the high ceilings.  The room seats up to 350 I believe.  Obviously our wedding will be nowhere near that big, but it will be nice to be able to spread out the tables a little bit, and give the room a more open feel.  

So now to the colors:

 

I love this color combination with the green and black.  I actually found a great deal on table overlays with a black and white damask table runner, and I ordered a sample to see what they looked like, and I was impressed! 

 This is way more pink than I want, but I just wanted to show the green/black/pink combo that I'm looking for.  The majority will be green and black, but I plan to use pops of hot pink in things like the flowers, and some small decorations here and there.

I like these wedding dresses because they are unique and they aren't too formal for a summer wedding with fun colors and a light, happy theme.  I really like the bottom one.

 

I LOVE the cake in the middle row on the far right.  It's simple and it's exactly what I'm looking for.  Square tiers with a black ribbon around the bottom of each tier, simple off-white icing (maybe with a pattern like the one in the pic), and then accented with fresh pink and green flowers.   

I saw this at Sam Moon online, and thought it would be a cute idea to go in the bridesmaids' hair or something.  I think I want to do black dresses for them, but accent that with some green and pink jewelry or hair accessories (maybe even fun shoes!)

Speaking of fun shoes:

Obviously it's highly unlikely that I'll be wearing Louboutins, but I like the idea of wearing some fun pink shoes with my wedding dress, and maybe I'll get a pink hair clip similar to the green one above to wear at the reception.

Anyway, those are my ideas so far.  If you have any good ones, pass them along, because I rarely remember important details!  Have a good day everyone :)

Canine Fight Club

Ok, so I'm aware that this blog is starting to look a lot more like Marley and Me than it is a blog about anything else.  Unfortunately, however, at this point in my life most of the "exciting" things that happen to me revolve around my animals.  On any given day, I wake up, take them out, get ready for work, go to work, work while daydreaming about the TiVo I'll get to watch that night, come home, take them out again, and proceed to drown my nightly boredom away with a glass of wine and said TiVo.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy my job, and every week there is a new fire for me to put out, which keeps me on my toes. That being said, work tales are those "you had to be there"-type stories to begin with.  Add to the fact that I do a lot of work that I can't really talk about and there's just not much to say.  So, being that work and the dog park take up the vast majority of my day, you're left with dog park.  Deal with it.  My blog, my rules.

Now I know the first rule of canine fight club is that you don't talk about canine fight club, but I'm going to.  Again, it's my blog suckas.

Anyway, today I take them to the park like any other day.  It's pretty packed once again.  Everyone is playing and having a good time.  There is this little wirehaired fox terrier there that has a bit of Napoleon syndrome.  He's being a jerk to all the bigger dogs, trying to prove his worth or whatever.  At first I don't really notice him; but then he starts bugging Truman.  At one point he latches on to the fur around Truman's throat, and when Truman whips his head the little shit goes flying off with a tuft of fur in Truman's mouth.  Truman is so docile that he just goes about his day trying to avoid the little terror. 

While this is going on, Cherry is having a good time chasing the tennis ball with a few other dogs, and they all take turns tackling one another.  They're all running around, tails wagging, having some good old fashioned dog park fun.  Cherry winds up with the ball and lays down to relax.  She likes to protect the ball, and will roll around with it in her mouth, or put her paw on it to shield it.  Anyway, she's just laying there when little terror comes up and tries to get it from her.  At first he just stands there staring at her, and Cherry's tail starts wagging like they're about to play.  Then the little terror starts growling, and Cherry's tail stops and she looks at him in alarm.  Before I can stop them, the little terror unleashes an angry bark, and lunges at Cherry's face.  Cherry can handle quite a bit of nagging from other dogs, and for the most part, she likes wrestling, but this dog really pissed her off, and she responded by losing it.  She gets up and attacks him right back.  It's a mess of tails, legs, and angry growls.  While I'm trying to get over there, the other owner is just WATCHING, like an asshole.  I finally grab Cherry's tail and pull her away and the little terror keeps coming at her, so I essentially have to kick him away.  Without a word, the little terror's crappy owner leashes him up, and they silently leave the park.  After he's gone, another owner is the first to break the silence by saying that the little terror was a mean and improperly socialized dog and his owner should know not to let him around other dogs.  Everyone pretty much agreed that Cherry could have killed him if she wanted to.  I'm glad it didn't get that far.  As an owner of bigger dogs, it's my responsibility to make sure they play safely and don't get out of hand.  I can't stop Cherry from defending herself when she's attacked, but the hard part comes in making sure she doesn't hurt anyone because some small dog is stupid enough to pick a fight with a giant.  It's the stupid dog's fault, but if he gets hurt because he attacked my dog, that's on me. 

So anyway, Cherry is officially a badass, or something.  I don't condone doggy violence, but I can't stop her from defending herself when she gets face-murdered.  Fortunately no one got hurt and I hope I don't see that little crap dog there anymore. 

The Bird and the Window

So, as many of you know (but some may not), I have a veritable zoo living with me.  For those that aren't familiar with the cast of true characters that I share my residence with, here is a rundown:

 

Evie.  My "first born."  She's actually a month younger than Truman but I had her first so she is my first born.  Anyway, she likes eating, getting in your business, and judging you.

 

Truman.  The real first born.  He likes playing games, sitting on your feet, chasing Cherry, and rocking the 80's denim jacket.

 

Shelby.  Consistently voted least favorite because of her tendency to be ridiculously obnoxious.  She does, however, entertain with her constant desire to chase the dogs' tails around the house and her propensity to do back-flips for a feather.  She has dreaded middle child syndrome and as such she requires constant attention and affirmation.

Cherry.  The baby.  The runt.  She certainly has a few screws loose, and she has been quite the adventure to raise.  She enjoys chasing anything, eating anything, and taking naps in really weird positions.  

So, there they are.  From now on when I tell stories about my zoo, you'll know who I'm talking about.  Yesterday was a beautiful day in St. Louis.  It was sunny and the temperature was in the low to mid 60s.  I decided it was a perfect day to open the windows of our loft.  Sadly, we don't have screens on our windows, so I was really careful to only open the window enough where the breeze could come in, but not enough where an animal could cause a problem.  So I thought.  

I go about my business and glance over to the window, and Evie is OUTSIDE on the ledge.  Six stories up.  I thought for sure her fatty butt couldn't squeeze through, but there she was.  I almost had a heart attack.  Meanwhile, she's just walking back and forth across the 4-inch wide ledge like it's no big deal.  I yell "Evie!!!" (not thinking about the possibility of startling her and sending her plummeting to her death) and she just looks at me with her usual judgmental scowl like "is there a problem?"  I run over to the window to help her in and she just squeezes right back through the window no problem.  My cat cheated death!

And then, there was today.  I get off work and get home to take the pups to the park.  The park is right across the street from our building, so it's an easy walk.  We get all leashed up and head over.  The park is pretty busy, which I like, because it means the dogs will actually run instead of chewing on random sticks.  Well when we've been there for a few minutes, I look over and see a flailing pigeon across the park.  My reflexes are too slow as ALL the other dogs in the park have already noticed this too.  They're all poking at it prancing around it.  Then here comes Cherry.  Of course, out of ALL the dogs at the park, MY dog would be the one to actually go there. Before I can stop her, she's got the flailing bird firmly gripped in her jaws and she's trotting around the park with extreme pride in herself.  I pick up my pace to catch her and at that she takes off running.  

Whee look at me!  This is so awesome I can't believe I really got a bird!

Truman, who has been idly watching this whole scene unfold, suddenly takes off after Cherry.  All the other dogs follow in quick succession, and I'm left to chase the ringleader of this entire bird fiasco as she plays keep-away.  The other owners call off their dogs, most of whom listen.  But not mine.  She's transfixed on this creature in her mouth and she's not about to let it go.  So, I continue to chase her, trying to corner her, while Truman happily barks and the other owners leash up their dogs to minimize the madness.  I reach out to grab at anything and I get a wing.  Because I was expecting fur and not feathers, I shriek and let go before I'm left holding JUST a wing.  Cherry takes off again, tail wagging as if this disaster is all some fantastic game and I purposely placed the wounded bird in there for her.  By this point I'm mortified because every other dog has calmed down on their leash and the other owners are either (a) similarly mortified, (b) LAUGHING, or (c) judging me for being unable to catch my dog.  I can feel my excuses flowing out of my mouth like verbal diarrhea..."well, she is a retriever"..."she's still kind of a puppy"..."she likes to run!"  But, I mean when you think about it, all of those are true.  She is a retriever.  Retrieving things is in her blood (nevermind that she didn't actually retrieve it, she ran around it with it)!  Obviously all the other "retrievers" at the park are shitty at their job...right?  

Anyway, after a few minutes of sheer chaos I manage to catch her and release the bird from her vice grip. At this point the bird is just sitting there flapping like a moron and we all have no idea what to do.  Suddenly, this pigeon whisperer homeless guy comes in and gently picks it up and hums to it as he escorts it to safety outside the park fence.  I'm pretty sure the bird needs to be...eliminated.  He's obviously gravely injured.  

After that, the madness slowly died down.  Some owners laughed; some left immediately.  The immediate leavers need to remove the stick from their ass.  I'm sorry my dog ran around with a flapping mad, near dead pigeon in her mouth.  These things happen.  She was quite pleased with herself, and being the good Mom I am, I love to see her boost her self-esteem.  

Anyway.  That was that.  Time to go meet sweet little baby Holden!

When being sworn in, you should probably recite the oath correctly.

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.

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.

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.

Aww look at her go!