IIIIIIIIIII would just like to say

Crushes suck. I hate having them. They are the invention of Satan himself.

The Secretx8

Okay, Andy tagged me, so I guess I need to do this. I'm supposed to tell you eight secret-type things about myself. I say "secret-type" because I don't tell real secrets. Seriously, I'm like the best secret-keeper ever. People tell me their secrets all the time and I've never told them to anyone. And that's only SOMETIMES because when they told me the secret I was drunk and now I just plain can't remember it.

Actually, now that I think about it, I think I've done this one before. Oh well. I'll try not to repeat myself.

1. I've never seen any of the Godfather movies. Worse still, I once tried watching the first one, and I found it boring so I stopped watching it. So there you have it. Go ahead and throw your stones at the computer screen, or whatever.

2. Along the movie lines, I hate romantic comedies. Sorry. I just do. There's seriously like four plots floating around out there, and I've seen all of them about a dozen times each. That's more than enough.

3. In a remarkable stroke of immaturity/inability to move beyond the past, there are a few things about law school that, to this day, still make me irrationally bitter and angry.

4. I'm a very nice drunk. This actually isn't much of a secret, considering how many people have seen me drunk.

5. I have friends who still think I'm a virgin (it happens when you grow up in God City, USA). I remember being back home a couple years ago and having dinner with a few friends from back in the day, one of whom had recently gotten married. He was telling us the story of how he and his wife met and ended up getting married, etc. At one point the other two friends were engaged in a side conversation, and he leaned in and whispered to me: "Sex is great. Seriously, it was so worth waiting" and gave me a knowing look. I just smiled at him and thought "awww, that's so cute."

6. I went to my first sci-fi convention-type event last month. I've been a total sci-fi nerd/geek (although I cannot get a handle on which one is the correct word) for more than half my life now, so I guess it was about time. It was pretty cool, actually, and really more of a wading pool in the water park of sci-fi gatherings. It was billed as an "all-access" event that I think was essentially a pre-Emmy publicity event to which they opted to invite plain old fans as well as the press. Pretty awesome of them, actually. The coolest part? I got to shake hands with the great Edward James Olmos.



7. I have an escape plan for when the zombies attack. Mark my words, they are coming.

8. One night when I was waiting tables in college, one of my professors came into the restaurant on a date with another professor. I was totally oblivious and figured, oh, they're just two colleagues having a drink together. Apparently either I'm an idiot or my professor had verbal diarrhea, because he stopped me at one point while I was walking past and gave the creepiest speech I've ever heard to justify the fact that, unbeknownst to me, I'd just caught him with the woman who was currently breaking up his marriage, which was not yet finally dissolved. Yeah... I so needed to know that.

I would tag people, but I've been so bad about blogging that I'm not even sure who bothers checking this thing anymore. So -- if you read my blog, and haven't already done this one, consider yourself tagged. And please leave me a comment letting me know you're doing it, so I can hop over and take a look at your deep dark secrets ;)

Dude, FUCK THAT SHIT

According to some, this blog has only a PG-13 rating.

Spoken like someone who's never actually read it.

::fumes::

Update: There we go, I guess that fixed it.

My inner geek is spazzing out!!!

In spite of the fact that it is 9 PM and I still have AT LEAST two hours of work ahead of me...

In spite of the fact that tomorrow morning I have to attend a hearing over an hour outside of Los Angeles... at 8 AM...

In spite of the fact that I worked so nonstop today I forgot how hungry I was until I nearly passed out in boxing class...

In spite of the fact that I inexplicably have a nosebleed...

Today is a good day :D

Man I love good news.

Where brain go?

In case you hadn't noticed, I have a killer case of writer's block.

Hopefully I will think of something interesting to post soon.

Maybe I'll put up a YouTube video of Cujo acting crazy. That dog does some hilarious shit.

Oh come on

Chicago beat Los Angeles for the US 2016 Olympic bid??? Are you frakking kidding me???

Don't get me wrong -- I love Chicago. I loved living there, I love the city, I love visiting whenever I get the chance. But it's a terrible choice for the summer Olympics. Especially when Los Angeles was in the running.

Seriously, people. Such a bad decision. Chicago is miserable and muggy and gross and disgusting in the summer. I remember how horrible it was just walking a block to the grocery store -- the humidity would bloat me so much I could barely fit into my clothes some days. It was so humid and miserable on my graduation day it nearly killed me.

They actually think athletes are going to perform at the top of their game in that kind of weather? Come on. Those people will melt in the sun. It will be the most boring Olympics ever. Here in Los Angeles, we have those awesome Santa Ana winds to cool you off, not to mention our dry, deserty lack of moisture. A much better choice for summer Olympics.

Sorry, Chicago. You're right in so many other ways, but you and the Olympics were not meant to be together.

Spring cleaning

My life is a mess.

Meaning literally. Not figuratively.

Old mail and other papers (hopefully none of it important) is strewn all over my apartment. On my computer desk, on the hall table, on the kitchen counter, on my vanity, on my nightstand. Clean laundry folded but not properly put away. Dirty laundry just sitting there, and me too lazy to get off my ass and clean it. Random bits of dirt in the carpet (don't even want to THINK how long it's been since I vacuumed). Clothes that won't fit in my closet (and a closet with a broken bar for hanging clothes). A. Mess.

So for probably the first time ever, I'm really, REALLY motivated to clean. Not just the, make-everything-shiny-and-hide-the-shit-you-can't-get-rid-of clean. Actual, go-through-my-stuff-and-really-get-rid-of-the-shit-I-don't-need clean. I'm really gonna do it.

To motivate myself, I've taken "before" photos of everything ("after" photos to be taken later). If I'm feeling brave, I might post them after this weeks-long ordeal is finished. For now, leave it to your imaginations what a pigsty my apartment must be.

As part of my "cleaning" I'm also trying to "clean up" physically. Since law school I really let myself go... gained some weight, exercised less and less, started eating crap again. Well, no more. I'm going to try to get to the gym for at least a half an hour, at least four times a week. So far I'm ahead for this week, but the real question is whether I can keep this motivation going long enough to get in shape for binikni season*!

*Yes, binikni. It's the latest trend, see:

He can't be serious

Now Senator Brownback is jumping on the gay-bashing bandwagon:

"I believe that homosexual acts between individuals are immoral and that we should not condone immoral acts. I do not believe the United States is well-served by a policy that says it is OK to be immoral in any way."

Hmmm.

OK to be immoral in any way.

Well, play along with me for a second here, Sammy.

You're a good Christian, right? Remember that part of the Bible where Jesus says that all the law and the prophets can be boiled down into two commandments: love God and love your neighbor? Remember? Let me help you out: it's right here.

I mean, I could be real nitpicky and point out that he doesn't say anything about who has sex with whom right there. But, hell. For shits and giggles let's pretend that Matthew was secretly gay so he left that part out (thank goodness our good buddy Saul/Paul came along, huh? You know, the one who was super good at just plain loving everyone).

Let's just focus on the horrible things our country is doing, hmm? I mean. America is so messed up. We've got these crazy laws like The First Amendment that let you do things like not love God and not love your neighbor.

Dude. We can't let this go on any longer. We need to defend morality in this Godless wasteland of a country!! Down with the First Amendment!!! Hell, down with all of them!!! We need to get this country back on track! No more of this personal space bullshit! The theocratic commune has to take hold, NOW. TODAY. We cannot tolerate immorality in our country any longer!

If we do, the terrorists have already won.

Because THAT'S what we need

McDonald's has a new burger: the Third Pounder.

That's right. Their genius execucrats decided that too many people were starting to get healthy, dieting and exercising, and lowering their cholesterol, so they've unleashed obesity's latest weapon in the War On Humanity. The 740-calorie Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese apparently wasn't sufficiently artery-clogging.

This kinda makes me wanna run home and play DDR to flush the fat-karma from my brain. And yet I've got this stuck in my head:

My evil, evil brother

Yes, he is so evil that he gets two "evil"s.

Damn him. He's gotten me hooked on another TV show, and he knows how I am when I get hooked on a TV show. In a previous life, I swear he was a drug pusher.

Now, I've heard lots of great things about Battlestar Galactica. Everyone who watches it says it's fantastic (which is rare for a Sci-Fi original. Nothing against the channel -- they show some of my favorite old TV shows and movies -- but their original content generally leaves much to be desired). Friends who know my tastes have urged me to watch it. But I rarely get into a show more than half a season after its premiere. I have enough commitments as it is (as you can see from my last post).

But that didn't deter my brother. Oh no. He took it upon himself to send me links to a website that had a cheap sale running on the DVDs (with free shipping!). And then he nagged me every day for a week to buy it. "LF," he intoned, "Have you bought BSG yet? It's SO GOOD. You HAVE to watch it."

So finally I caved, if only to get him to shut up about it. This past Thursday night, they arrived, and I happened to be on the phone with him when I got home and stumbled upon the package.

"Okay, I'm gonna let you go so you can watch," he said, "You have to watch the first episode tonight." He wouldn't let me off the phone until I promised to watch it.

Okay, first, as a warning to anyone who buys or rents these DVDs -- the first "episode" is longer than most movies (since the show started off as a miniseries, which my brother conveniently failed to mention). I got to sleep waaay too late, and didn't even finish it.

Second, watch this show at your peril. My entire weekend is gone. I watched the whole first season this weekend.

The entire first season.

Took up my whole damn weekend.

And now I've gone and shelled out more money for season 2, which is evilly broken up into two separate sets (capitalist bastards). I almost paid extra for expedited shipping, but I have a ton of work to catch up on now, since I barely got anything done all weekend. Since I spent it on my ass camped out in front of the stupid telly.

Evil, evil brother. He's done this before, too. He's the reason I've joined the ranks of Firefly mourners.

And anyone who is caught up on the show (Andy, this means you) had better not spoil it in the comments. I will be very unhappy and unpleasant.

Maybe that Al Gore fellow was onto something?*

This is freakin' crazy.

As you know, last week gave me the joy of choosing between a 17-hour road trip and a flight that wouldn't get me home until Christmas Day (and knowing my brother and sister, the presents would already be opened by then). I opted for the miserably long and expensive drive and made it in safely on Friday afternoon, in spite of some wicked crazy snow drifts/flood-caliber puddles at the C-470/I-25 junction in south Denver.

This morning, my flight made it back to Los Angeles on time and I got to work by a respectable 9:30 a.m., after taxiing to Subaru to pick up Rudolfo, who spent the week in the shop, and driving home to drop off my luggage and pick up my secretary's (now-belated) Christmas gift.

Text messages from Mom reveal that December Blizzard #2 started picking up almost as soon as I landed safely at LAX. Visits to CNN.com confirm that my home state is being wracked with, not one, but two debilitating snowstorms in the course of a single week.

In fact, this makes Blizzard #3 for the current snow season in Colorado. My sister tells me the first one kept her locked up in the house with the roommates for a day of college-level boozing the likes of which probably would have landed me, aged as I've become in the past 16 months, in the hospital.

Oiy. When I lived there we got maybe one bad storm, every three or four years or so.

Coming soon: Christmas photos, courtesy of my awesome new camera (thanks, Dad!).

* To avoid the inevitable negative political reaction: it's a rhetorical statement, something of a joke. I'm not actually making a political statement with this post.

Well dammit.

It's supposed to be a White Christmas, not a White Winter Solstice.

It appears I will be driving home tomorrow (in a one-way rental, which is extra money out of my pocket on top of the stupid $500 piece of shit flight that is now not taking off).

"Extremely upset" does not even begin to cover it. Add to my anguish the snottiest United rep I've ever had the misfortune of speaking with, informing me that no, I cannot get a refund for only the leg of my trip they've canceled (I have to cancel my flight back here, too), and you can imagine how my "vacation" is starting off.

In conclusion, United, I hope you have a shitty shitty Christmas and that Santa gives you smelly shit in your stocking.

Those of you who are the praying type, if you'd say a little prayer that I not crash and die on my cross-country journey, I'd really appreciate it.

Ciao!

Oh noes!!

Work has blocked myspace.

DAMMIT.

It's not like I bill that time or something!!!

Why...

Do I feel like I'm so very busy and so very stressed out when in fact, if anything, this week I've billed *less* hours than I usually do, and have been *way* less productive?

I bet it's because I'm working on a freaking legal memo. Legal memos are like my kryptonite. At least since my Evil Legal Writing instructor (she's somehow related to Satan) absolutely ruined any desire whatsoever that I ever may have had to do legal writing.

Seriously, this is like the first "serious" memo I've had to write since I started working here almost a year and a half ago... I've had a couple other formal memos but they've been... I dunno... less formal somehow?

I feel like I'm in legal writing class all over again. And I fucking HATED that class.