the ocean

Better Homes & Gardens

We have a tiny, tiny strip of land in front of our condo building. It is possibly three feet wide. Its most notable feature is a hatch for some sort of utility. I think the reaction most people have to it is not even noticing it is there. And yet recently it became the center of a very heated debate among my four-member condo association.

You see, grass will not grow on this yardlet. My guess is that it is America's Tiniest Ancient Indian Burial Ground, but it could possibly be because of the continual Cubs traffic through this area. But whatever the reason, three attempts at resodding have yielded no results. We have only a lovely display of crabgrass and ragweed to show for our efforts.

The subject of how to handle "the strip" has been hotly contested. One neighbor wanted to just cover it with lava rock, Chicago's official method of demonstrating horticultural defeat. Another neighbor wanted to dress it up with all manner of lawn gnomes, pink flamingos, and topiary sculptures of Carrie Bradshaw. As the peacemaker, I ended up suggesting wood chips and a few plants. This somehow left me with the task of procuring these items.

So three trips to Home Depot and about $150 later, we have a new front lawn. It turns out I am not super awesome at digging up weeds, but what I lack in skill I more than make up for with willingness to cause myself traumatic injury. May the neighborhood pets happily piss there for many years to come.

Discarded Objections to Obama's Supreme Court Nominee

-- Doesn't smile enough.
-- Hairstyle is SO1990s Dixie Carter.
-- Background insufficiently hardscrabble.
-- Has taken controversial position on Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act.
-- Asks too many questions.
-- Never thought Seinfeld was funny.
-- Has empathy but lacks telepathy.
-- Refuses to acknowledge that Jessica Simpson is fat.
-- Facebook profile is littered with emoticons.
-- Unable to play shortstop on Supreme Court softball team.
-- Prefers early work of the Beatles.
-- Not as hot as Scalia.
-- Refuses to believe the framers of the Constitution meant to include "right to wear hot pants."
-- Not white enough.
-- Lacks jaunty bow tie.

Economics for Cab Drivers

I am lucky to have had some extraordinary teachers in my lifetime. Until tonight, however, none of them had also been barrelling down Lakeshore at the speed of sound while instructing me.

I knew there was going to be trouble when my usual signal of dialing my phone and putting it to my ear failed to elicit silence. Now my friend Sarah has a voicemail from me with a cab driver ranting about government regulation in the background. I also tried having a fake conversation with the dial tone, but that also failed to bring quiet. The lecture was going to happen, with or without me.

So what did I learn? Apparently, the problems with our economy can entirely be attributed to 1) the lazy kids who don't want to cut my cab driver's lawn for $5 per hour, 2) an excess of government regulation over those poor investment bankers who never stood a chance, and 3) the Japanese. Oh, and I wasn't completely sure on how it tied in, but I'm fairly certain that Oprah was in there somewhere.

Sometimes I try to gently shape people's opinions when they accost me with the astonishingly incorrect. In this case it was all just happening too fast for me to do anything. I feel like my brain was in a car accident. Also I'm pretty sure I left my lunch bag in the cab.

Postcard

Busy times here on the lazy Mississippi. Friday we went to the salad bar at Kelly's, where I ducked behind a pillar to avoid being seen by a former high school classmate. Yesterday we took the dogs for a long walk that somehow did not tire them out enough to prevent them from waking up at 5 AM and barking repeatedly. I had lunch with my grandmother, who showed off her new walker, and went to TJ Maxx with my mother, who somehow talked me in to buying a sheet set I did not want or need. Today we had church, which we watched on television since my mother wasn't feeling well, another lunch with my grandmother, and I rediscovered PC gaming, much to my shame. Yes, today I played Civilization for about six hours. Did I mention that I am deeply ashamed?

Now we're getting ready to watch a movie and perhaps play a few board games. We are the Happiest Midwestern Family. Aside from the fact that my mother is screaming at her computer right now. But that is really a given.

Back to Chicago tomorrow. I am sad to give up the relaxation, but pleased to not sleep in a twin bed any more.

Vacationesque

I am back in Quincy for the long weekend. Or, as one of my coworkers calls it, "the place where my criminal defendant is from." Unfortunately, ever since the Sonics closed, meth has been one of the town's leading industries. And you do have to give us credit for being industrious. We take some cough medicine and a Jr. Scientist Chemistry Set and make our own revenue-generating opportunities. It's like a slightly more menacing version of Mary Kay!

Anyway, although I realize that I am not exactly sipping Cristal in the VIP lounge, I am happy just to be out of Chicago for the long weekend. Not that I don't miss paying $12 for a sandwich and getting sneezed on on the el, but it's nice to have a break every now and then. I believe my most onerous task for the weekend will be walking the dogs. Or possibly chatting with my grandmother about the '40s, depending on the mood she's in. Regardless, it will beat deposition practice any day.

It is really hard to believe that summer is here already. As much as winter sometimes seemed like it was six years long, I somehow can't believe it's time to have my annual landscaping argument with my neighbors. Or show off my Kathy Griffin bikini bod. I guess that time flies when you're trying to figure out if you are having fun.

Current Events

So much has happened over the past few months! I feel like Lauren Conrad. Here's just a quick visual summary of all the amazing times I've had:


My avant garde graduation photography is beyond compare. Seriously, I don't know if I could achieve whatever effect this is if I actually tried.

Forgot to Mention

That I was stranded at LaGuardia for about three hours on Thursday. Apparently there was bad weather somewhere in the world that was preventing my plane from arriving. The butterfly effect is very big in the aviation industry.

So I got the chance to really explore all that there is to do in America's Favorite Airport that Seems More Suited to Omaha than New York City. First, I ate a Baconator Combo at Wendy's, which was pretty much wholly ruined by the fact that they listed the amount of calories on the menu board. I think Don't Ask, Don't Tell is a very sound policy as applied to fast food intake. Then I changed out of my suit in the men's room, which allowed me to test my ability to change my shoes and socks without ever touching the floor. I felt vaguely like Larry Craig. I'm just glad the stall walls went all the way down to the floor.

The one thing I did not get to do was get a drink. Inexplicably, I could not find an open bar. Don't they understand that airline delays are the world's best marketing for alcohol?

Yes, I Forgot I Have A Blog Again

I think the problem is that my life is so exciting and glamorous. What with going to the grocery store and arguing with my neighbors about the landscaping and trying to dig crushed Golden Grahams out of my carpet and all, it's difficult to make time to share my various whimsical musings. I always try not to forget the little people, but, well, they're so little!

No, honestly the problem is that I have been traveling the last few days, and I am 100% not allowed to blog from my work computer. Apparently my employers believe that my dangerously incendiary comments about Kelly Ripa can somehow be attributed to them, and that boycotts will be assembled based on my shocking espousal of Little Debbie's Snack Cakes. The processed food wars are coming, I assure you. Will you be ready?

On both my flight to New York and my flight back there were women wearing surgical masks to protect themselves from swine flu. The one on the way there was sitting next to me, but moved to a different seat halfway through the flight. Do I somehow look especially contagious? Perhaps I should not ask that.

Orange You Glad I Didn't Say Banana?

I've had a few controversial theories in my life. For instance, I think Ann Geddes photos are very creepy and that dressing babies up like sunflowers or rainbow trout is wrong. Many people seem to disagree. Similarly, I believe that Nicole Kidman should be locked up before she can do further harm to herself or others; many appear to believe she and her immobile face are some sort of National Treasure starring Nicolas Cage. But perhaps my most controversial theory of all is that Stanley Kubrick movies are boring. I know, I am a terrible, ignorant human being. And yet I cannot deny that twenty minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey are the equivalent of a box of wine and a twenty pound turkey to me. Consciousness just escapes me.

I tested this theory tonight by watching A Clockwork Orange, and though I did make it through without any major napping incidents, I'm not sure I need to throw my entire hypothesis out the window. I think I could easily cut half an hour out of this movie. Long shots of people walking down hallways from a great distance away? Cut. Long stretches of monologues unrelated to the plot? Cut. Musical montages? Cut. Cut. Cut.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I put up with all kinds of boring in my life. I work at a large law firm. I occasionally read Russian literature. I watched nearly an entire episode of Nova the other day. But this just makes me want to hit the fast forward button. Hard.

And yes, I thought the Shining was boring, too. All the quick jump cuts of creepy twins in the world can't make up for the hours of Jack Nicholson sitting at a typewriter. If I wanted to watch someone not type I could just look at my secretary.

The End of All Childish Things

This morning we had our last class with the wee ones. In some ways it was quite typical. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of quoting of rap lyrics, a lot of making of unrealistic demands. But because it was the last class, we were also asked to participate in an assembly where we presented to the whole school all the wonderful things we learned this semester. This, of course, was an unmitigated disaster.

To begin with, I must point out that it's a bit unfair to ask children who took a course on law to be judged alongside those who took, say, African drums or karate. I'm afraid the law is simply not as visual. The sight of two eleven-year-olds screaming at each other about Due Process may be entertaining, but it is not in the same league as someone breaking bricks with their fists.

Also, our class had a total of four people in it by its undignified end. It's kind of hard to do your best work when you are outnumbered by the other classes four to one. There's a constant fear of ganking.

And let me also mention that I was not exactly prepared to have to be stage performer myself this morning. I had not showered and I was wearing a torn-up old sweatshirt. If you want people to be camera ready, you should not hold your assembly at 9 in the morning.

I think we were better than the computers class, though. I mean, I'm not saying they should all get beat up for being nerds or anything, but they were seriously lacking in production values.

Liveblogging People's 100 Most Beautiful People Issue

Cover: Off to a great start with an inset photo of that dude from Twilight with his hair standing out from his head at right angles. Also, Bea Arthur should have picked a different week to die.

Pages 55-64: Seriously, Christina Applegate's publicist deserves a nice fruit basket. A cover and ten pages? I mean, yeah, she had cancer, but she's a fucking TV star. Bea Arthur DIED of cancer and she only got two pages.

Pages 66-78: This is People's special gift to America: Stars Without Makeup. Annalynne McCord looks like she's forty. Amanda Bynes looks like she ate Annalynne McCord. Who knew makeup makes you look thinner?

Pages 89-90: Barack's Beauties? Really? Michelle Obama is a fucking Harvard law graduate. With an overbite. And the picture of the White House speechwriter looks like a mug shot.

Page 92: Historical Hotties. The part that really annoys me is that People probably thinks it's all cool and cultural for including stupid features like this. Also, Mary Tudor looks like a bulldog.

Pages 94-105: The whole point of this section is that happiness makes people beautiful. Sure. That's really Megan Fox's appeal. She's beautiful on the inside.

Pages 106-107: Proving the shocking point that women don't have to turn into hags at 35. Of course, the photo array stops with Meryl Streep at age 59, so after that all bets are off.

Pages 109-116: Funny people are pretty! And yet Jimmy Fallon is their illustration of this principle. Apparently blind people with terrible senses of humor edit People magazine.

Pages 127-128: You have to give them mad props for choosing only two out of three of the Jonas Brothers. That weird-looking third one is going to have some serious issues.

In Which I Add Captions to Random Clip Art


Of all the old timey hobbies, ballooning is perhaps my favorite. Mark my words, someday a dirigible will fly us to the sun!

H1N1 Mania!

Who's excited about our latest media-created health crisis? No, it's not anthrax or sarin gas this time, it's the Swine Flu, or H1N1 as it has recently rebranded. (Kind of like when AOL Time Warner dropped the AOL.) It's a lot like regular flu, except that everyone is really intensely fearful about it. And who doesn't love a good panic every now and then? Cold sweats burn calories.

My first hint that this had gotten a little out of proportion was when my local Walgreens was completely out of hand sanitizer. Then I saw someone on the train wearing a surgical mask, and it wasn't Michael Jackson. Then they sent around a memo at my work reminding us to wash our hands and to stay home if we feel sick. Really? I usually like to just head in and cough all over people's keyboards. Sharing is caring, as they say.

I mean, I'm not saying that I want to get it. I am opposed to contagions of all kinds, generally. But I'm also not going to haul out the plastic bubble just yet. That's really more of an autumn look anyway.