Tuesday, February 27, 2007

I'm sorry, Lost... I've met someone else

I'm sorry, Lost. I still love you and I always will. You know that.

But there's someone else in my life now. Someone who really gets me. Someone who won't disappear for months at a time and then only turn my world upside down a little bit. I'm not saying the magic's gone. It's still there, but... my new show just blows my mind. Week after week. And I would be a fool to ignore that. I know we have a long history, and I respect that. I bet we could even work together. I really do. But I've gotta do what's right for me. So I'm moving on.

I totally still wanna hang out with you every Wednesday night. I'd miss Jack and Kate and Sawyer too much! And little Juliet sure is growing up fast.

But I have a new love now. Her name is Heroes. And we're really happy together. We're learning so much about each other, and it's amazing all the ways we're connected that we haven't even discovered yet. I'm so excited about this new adventure, and I hope that someday, and I know it will take time, but I hope someday you can be happy for us.

Love Always,
The Law Fairy


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Excuse me sir, I think I smell my friend's beard

I might be the only person who finds this funny, but I can laugh enough for all of us.

Bonus points if you can place the quote.

Update: Blogger, who SUCKS, apparently has issues with consistently showing YouTube videos properly embedded. Fuck you, Blogger.

Here's the link to the awesome vid if stupid Blogger is drawing you a blank.

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Friday, February 16, 2007

Pet peeve of the day

Godzilla sushi rolls.

I made up the term, but it's completely appropriate.

I don't know if this is a Japanese thing or an Americanization (read: embiggening) of one of the tastiest kinds of food around, but it's annoying.

Sushi rolls are plenty delicious with an amount of ingredients that can be rolled and cut into morsel-sized bits that can be devoured in one chomp. Why a roll needs a full inch of avocado and an inch and a half of cucumber, BEFORE FISH, I will never know.

But, look. If I'm unable to pick up a piece of sushi with my chopsticks, there's a problem. I shouldn't have to eat sushi with my hands. They have germs and stuff.


Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Happy Fucking Valentine's Day

I had fucking JURY DUTY today. Everyone at the Los Angeles Superior Court (with the exception of one very patient and courteous bailiff in Department 55 of the criminal court downtown) is fucking RUDE and INCOMPETENT.

After wasting my entire goddamned day sitting in the jury assembly room (thank God I brought work, which I finished in about 3 hours and then sat around wishing I had a fucking computer), they finally called me to a courtroom at FOUR O'CLOCK PM. This is an asstastically stupid time to call a jury panel, as the court closes at 4:30. The idiot judge swears us in and tells us we have to come back tomorrow at 10:30 a.m. for jury selection. I hope maggots eat his toes. He did NOTHING productive by having us come in at 4:00. He could JUST AS EASILY have called a new jury panel tomorrow at 10:30 a.m.; the difference would be he would only waste ONE day of their time, whereas he is now wasting at least TWO of mine. For my trouble I will receive a grand total of fifteen fucking dollars. I make fifteen dollars in about as many minutes. This is bullshit. Next time I get called I'm seriously tempted to just pay the $1K fine (yes, $1K) and be done with it.

As a delicious irony, this being V-Day and all, it's a domestic violence case. Me being the unabashed radical feminist (not to mention, you know, attorney) that I am, you would hope that no one would want me on this jury (having an independent mind and all that). My mom and secretary both seem to think they're so desperate for people there's no guarantee I'll get off (what, they're desperate? When they pay people fifteen dollars for two days of jury service? How can this be?). Well fine then. The instant anything remotely sexist comes out of the mouth of the defendant, his attorney, or any of his witnesses, he's earned himself a prison sentence (short of a hung jury).

Also, I have plane tickets to Boston next Friday, and I'm taking that flight. So they'll either have to finish the trial before then, or they can wait until I'm back to get a verdict.

This is so fucking retarded. This is my VACATION time they are taking. I get ZERO billable credit for this. They are robbing my PERSONAL time. And the "payment" for service? Thanking us for "taking time out of [our] busy day[s]"? What a fucking insult. I'd rather they do us the dignity of just admitting that this is the ass-rape of voters that it is, and apologize for not having the intelligence to think up a more efficient system (say, one that doesn't make me waste an entire day before I'm even called, "just in case" they might randomly need me), and maybe flagellate themselves a little. Seriously, I'd much rather have that than some insulting $15 check.

Oh, also, Blogger forced me to switch to new Blogger today. Fuck you, Blogger. I prefer the old Blogger.

And now back to making up for all the work I had no time to get done today.

UPDATE: Yay for plea bargains!!

God, I feel dirty just saying that.

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Saturday, February 10, 2007

Cheyenne Elise, 1994-2007

The awesomest Sheltie who ever lived died at about 11:45 Mountain Time this morning.

Mom says she went very peacefully. She was in pain all week, so they decided last night that they would take her in this morning. Mom says the vet was very kind and soothing -- Cheyenne didn't seem afraid or in any pain after she got the tranquilizer. She got some treats after the tranquilizer shot and then the vet gave her the injection. She relaxed and closed her eyes, and then she was gone.

I've known for a few months that this was coming. So why does it: 1) feel completely unreal, and I have to keep reminding myself that she's dead, for good, forever, I'm never, ever seeing her again; and 2) hurt so fucking much I wish I could chop off a toe so I could think about something else instead? At this rate I'm going to have to wear sunglasses to work for a year.

I've never lost a "real" pet before (not saying hamsters and rabbits aren't real -- but that just doesn't sting the way that losing someone you grew up with does), so I didn't realize until now just how acutely this sucks. Holy fuck did I make a mistake getting another one of these things. I hope I get hit by a bus before Cujo dies. Because I never wanna feel this bad again.

I really hope dogs go to heaven, or that there's a doggie heaven, or something. Cheyenne deserves to get to run around and play and not be in any pain anymore. And I hope to God I get to see her again.

Rest in peace, my sweet puppy.

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Thursday, February 08, 2007

Sketch show writers everywhere are weeping

RIP, Mrs. Marshall.

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Tuesday, February 06, 2007

We can all breathe easy now

Ted Haggard is CURED!!!!

Now excuse me while I go vomit.

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Monday, February 05, 2007

Congratulations, Osama!

You've won.

Anyone know how long it takes to become a Canadian?