On Unemployment...

Well, I'm still unemployed. I finally applied for Unemployment, but they got my income screwed up so I'm still waiting (UI thinks I made $0.00 last year, which = no $$ for me. They're wrong!). Applying for unemployment was no small feat. The problem, in CG's words, is that you have to be a lawyer to figure out the damned unemployment system. It's true--I figured it out, but the paperwork is NOT easy to understand. First, the online system boots people out randomly. If you're in the middle of your claim (or almost finished, as the case may be), you have to start all over. And it's S-L-O-W. So you have to have lots of free time. Not exactly a problem for me! After the fun of filing online, you start to get mail. Lots of mail. The first batch includes lots of letters that make it look like the check is on the way. The next batch includes a debit card for the money they'll be sending. The problem? Tucked away in one of the letters they send (which you get with an avalanche of information) is a little box that says "Monetarily Eligible." Below that, it either says yes, or no. "No" in that box means there is no money on its way to the debit card they sent, and you have to file more information. "Yes" means money may or may not be on its way, and I have yet to figure out what you do in that situation. I got a "no," because of the aforementioned UI glitch where they said I made $0.
Who is supposed to know to look for the box, in the middle of a whole series of boxes in a whole slew of letters, to find where it says "monetarily eligible?" Is that language that the vast majority of the population can understand? And why are they paying for postage on the 6 or so separate letters/packets I've gotten? Wouldn't it be cheaper to just send everything together? Why do I have a debit card with no money on it? How do I find out if there's money on it, or when they put money on it, and so forth? C'mon people, I'm a lawyer. If I can't figure it out, we're all doomed.

Seriously, a Band-Aid?

I ripped this off from my sister, but seriously? Band-Aids as a real, honest-to-god fashion accessory? In the world of U.S. high fashion, this is the next hot accessory/jewelry. I tell no lies, and they MUST be coordinated with your outfit and handbag. Even if you're a dude.

And I thought my engagement ring was pretty...should have asked for an engagement Band-Aid. THEN I'd be soooo cool.

Grandma gets struck (almost) by lightning

I went to visit my Grandma while I was home over the weekend, and if you've ever met her, you know that she's hysterical and entertaining, especially for a 92-year-old. In fabulous health, the woman is up-to-date on current events and has a razor-sharp wit. So while I'm visiting her, she asks if I've heard what happened to her and Martha the previous week. No, I tell her, I've not heard anything. I start to worry that it's something health-related, because 92 is pretty old.
Grandma embarks on a story about how Martha came by one evening wanting Grandma to go with her to Sonic to get a hot dog. Grandma agreed to go along for the ride in Martha's Crown Victoria, even though she'd already eaten. Off to Sonic they went, and Martha got her hot dog and Grandma a strawberry milkshake, and they headed for home where they were going to enjoy their treats in front of Martha's telly.
On the short drive home, the weather quickly turned ugly. It got windy, started to rain, and the next thing the old ladies knew they saw a bolt of lightning strike a tree, split it in half, and half of the tree came crashing down on top of the Crown Vic. Martha hit the brakes, and a man came running out of his house to see if they were all right.
What he saw was two old ladies, stunned silent in the Crown Vic, one holding a hot dog and the other a pink milkshake, with the car all beat to hell from the half-tree that was on top of it. The ladies didn't want to open the door for want of getting shocked should the car be charged, so the nice man cleared his way to the door and opened it. Both ladies were unhurt (thank goodness), and still had their Sonic foodstuffs. The mental image I get of this event is just outstanding.
Well, the insurance company won't fix Martha's car. They called it "an act of God," which for the most religious woman I've ever met, just seems too cruel. She's elderly and godly, for Chrissakes just fix the damn car!
At least God didn't want to hurt the old ladies, just the old Crown Victoria.

State of the what?

I go to school in a brand new, state-of-the-art law school building(CU's Wolf Law Building, it's supposed to be super cutting edge and all). This sign just appeared in the library ladies room:

"Sensitive Plumbing... [you know how it goes]"

We don't even have low-flow toilets. They are NEW, REGULAR, COMMERCIAL fixtures. Methinks someone cut corners on construction (the fact that roof tiles were falling off all last year is another key indicator. They are redoing the entire roof, just a year and a half into this puppy. Aren't buildings supposed to last longer than that?).

Last day...

It’s my last day at the dreaded job. See here for more on why it’s not my favoritest place to be for 8 hours a day. So, I’m pretty excited, but still have to go to this staff meeting. Whereupon, the bosses make an announcement that it’s a sad day because I’m leaving, which is an awfully nice sentiment. The big head boss-man even said the following:

“Don’t stray too far from the mothership...tell [the new job] you may need to come back to your roots.”

My job is a mothership, and better yet, a mothership in which I have roots. That’s some imagery. Plus, they want me to come back! Do you hear that? Come back to the job that I have publicly loathed and disdained for weeks on end. That’s how much I rock. Not that I would necessarily want to (though I LOVE most of the people I work with), but I could.

On a less happy note, I am currently in limbo with an undiagnosed “medical condition.” That phrase sounds so horrid and scary, but that’s what they call it. It’s making me gain weight at a rate probably only matched by a pregnant blue whale. And I’m just guessing, but they must blow up pretty heavy pretty quick, right? Either way, you get the idea.

My blog is boring?

Well, I suppose it doesn't matter if my blog is boring because it is my own, unadvertised, personal ranting space. So, I can put whatever I want on it. If you think it is boring or that it sucks, you probably should spend your time reading one of the tens of millions or billions of websites that exist merely for your pleasure. For those of you who have continued reading, I support Hillary, like extremely few television shows (watch most I like on DVD), have a fabulous kitty, am loved by a fabulous boy, enjoy [often unsuccessful] gardening, and drink too much. Like right now. This post has no content whatsoever.

Editor's note: I say that my blog is boring of my own volition, not because someone accused me of it! But feel free to accuse away, I'll just defend that it's MINE. Classic good sharing language. Most of this makes no sense. Again, my prerogative.

America doesn't do drugs

Tuns out, if you're British and you've been convicted of a crime involving drugs (or anything else that implicates moral turpitude, a phrase that governs lawyers too and that I hate), you will not be permitted to enter this country without a visa. Brits can typically come to the states without one (just like we can go there without one). But they are literally turned away at the U.S. airports at which they land if they have drug convictions, or if they simply admit to having been a drug addict at one point. I get that we want to protect our country from villains and the like, but this is silly and absurd. Just because a person has done drugs, we turn them away. Murder, by the way, is not a crime involving moral turpitude, so I assume that convicted murderers in without a question. Because they're less dangerous? A British memoirist, who was arriving at Newark to attend a book party and book tour to promote his book, was deported straight away for this reason. I guess we'd rather get rid of him than read a book?

"You missed the bus."

Every Tuesday and Thursday, and sometimes other days, there is a girl at my bus stop at the same time I am. She is mentally handicapped, and very small. Every day when I walk up, she's already there, and I say cheerfully, "Good morning!" or something of the sort. Every time, she responds the same way: "You missed the bus." And I usually say something along the lines of, darn, I'll have to wait for the next one. But this morning, I knew she was wrong. The bus came almost immediately following our exchange. It's just a ruse, she just wants me to think I missed the bus. She's not referring to a different bus, because only one stops at our stop. So, this morning, I suppose to make up for lost trickery, she says, "I was here first." And I replied, "Then you get on the bus first, of course." But she always gets on first. What kind of a person would I be if I bum rushed a very small handicapped girl getting on the bus? And what's with her attitude? She's always sweet as pie to the bus drivers, but I swear, when she talks to me, there are thorns in her voice. She's like a devil child, but only I can see her horns.

Awesome news headline

CNN online today had an outstanding headline: "Man puts rattlesnake in mouth, gets bitten." Really? It bit him? I wouldn't have thought that putting a rattlesnake in your mouth would piss it off, but alas, it did, and was considered front-page newsworthy. That's good journalism.

The Fabulous People of Subway Restaurant

My job decided that I should go to some fast food restaurants to ask for free food for an event we are hosting. I went to Taco Bell relatively without incident, and then it was off to Subway. I walked in and asked if there was a manager on duty. I was told that there was not, so I was just going to give my letter of explanation to the cashier and ask him to pass it along. I told the guy that I was a law student from across the street and that I wanted free food in exchange for advertising at our event, and if he could just give my letter to the manager that would be great. Mr. Cashier proceeds to ask my name and introduce himself, which was nice. Next he asked where the law school was. I pointed to the big building right across the street, and said, that's it. That big new building that says "Wolf Law." That's the law school. Then he said that he wanted to go to law school but he's a felon. Someone told him that felons can't go to law school. First of all, felons can go to law school, and many do. They let convicted murderers practice law. Second, this guy did not strike me as the kind of person who was going to go to law school but something else came up. He wasn't very bright, and he works at Subway. You're pretty much overqualified for that job if you have a GED, and that won't get you in to CU Law. Third, why would you tell a total stranger that you are a felon? That was the most baffling part of all. How do you respond, "oh that's nice, I'm a non-felon." Seriously.

Late night television

It's not even that late, but sitting here in a hotel in Houston, I am SO amused by what's on the networks. Between crappy syndicated programming are the most awesome ads ever. For one, the Fancy Feast commercial mentioned below. Then, there was a commercial for the ASPCA, which is a great organization, but the commercial was simply stunning. The language about "vicious criminals" and how you can provide love and care with just some dollars per day really amuses me. If people who don't feed their pets are vicious criminals, what are rapists? Cuddly teddy bears? And how about that love and care? Couldn't you just actually adopt an animal and then be sure it's getting that TLC you're paying for?

Air Conditioning

Why is it that in the summer, when it's effing hot outside, businesses insist on setting the AC so low? Every time I leave the house, it's ninety degrees outside (maybe more). So, I make sure to wear pants and grab a sweater, because it's sure to be freezing wherever I go. I'm having lunch on another scorching summer day, and can barely feel my numb fingers it's so cold in this restaurant. I am wearing jeans and a wool sweater. I work for an environmental group that specializes in energy security, and our office is always FREEZING. Given the current state of our energy security (that is, seriously not secure), can someone tell me what the rationale for this is?

A question...

Why does eye dilation (like at the eye doctor) make me feel stoned? Today I felt like I smoked a lot of weed. And looked like I ate some good mushrooms. Then I had to sleep it off. How can those little drops do that?