Jacqueline A. Whole

Dreaming of In-n-Out

2009-02-05T22:46:00.001-08:00

About 7 years ago, I decided that I'd had it with my job and career. I remember sitting in a hotel room in London where I'd been living for about 6 months on a project, right after living in a hotel room in Rhode Island for 9 months on that same project. I was feeling totally over-worked on a mismanaged, nightmare project. My company had just gone through a huge transition (after 3 rounds of layoffs, they got acquired), and I hated the new corporate overlords. I wasn't sleeping, I was working all the time, I didn't like the new people I was working with because in general, they weren't as good as my old team. I was exhausted all the time. It was like I was someone else and living in a fog all the time. I was hating my life.

So...I started looking into doing something else. For whatever reason, I got totally fixated on working at In-N-Out. I even got an application, filled it out, and stuck it on my bulletin board at work as some sort of weird inspiration. I think it just comforted me to know that I had a Plan B.

I wondered if it was just the project, which meant I should stick it out to finish the job and then move onto a new team. But I realized that I had to quit because I was so miserable being a consultant. I didn't want to break my mother's heart though. She was pretty unhappy when I dropped out of college after sophomore year. "What I telling my friends? I never hear the chinese kids not finishing the colleges!!" I couldn't imagine what she'd tell people if her software consulting daughter was now making hamburgers, even if the burgers ARE fresh and not frozen.

So, for whatever stupid reason, I decided that I'd go to law school instead.

Seven years later, and I'm sitting in my office feeling totally over-worked on a mismanaged, nightmare case. My practice group just went through a huge transition (old firm dissolved), and I'm not so fond of the new corporate overlords. I'm not sleeping, I am working all the time...I am exhausted all the time. It's like I'm someone else and living in a fog all the time. I am hating my life.

The other day, my mom got so sick of hearing me complain, that she actually suggested that I go and get an application from In-n-Out. Perhaps it's a sign from God.

One of the Many Reasons To Love My Gramma

2008-10-02T20:23:00.000-07:00

It's been a while. So I'll make my first post the laziest kind. This is my grandma at my mom's birthday back in June. She saw the camera coming, grabbed the bottle and posed.

Um, that seems to be me in the background scratching my crotch...not sure what the hell was going on there.

I'm in love

2008-06-25T22:30:00.000-07:00

I recently purchased a new tv from amazon.com. Well, first I purchased it from Best Buy, but then a bunch of people told me I was a fat idiot and got ripped off. So I dutifully went back to Best Buy to return the damn thing and then promptly bought it from amazon where I ended up saving a boatload of cash.

I'm still waiting for the tv to be delivered, but I did get my PS3 today. Oooh, it's so sleek and shiny. I took it out of the box, carefully unwrapped it, and then proceeded to stare longingly at it for a while. I spent about an hour reading all the manuals that came with it. I also got a game with the unit (Metal Gear Solid 4), so I spent time reading that manual too. As I read the literature, I gently stroked the console. It's so smooth and silky. I love my PS3!

I just wish I could plug it into something.

Poo and Peter Pan

2008-06-24T23:00:00.000-07:00

So I'm hanging out with my bestest friends EVER on the other side of the bay this weekend. They have a three year old son and a little newborn baby daughter.

I love these kids. I just met the baby for the first time, and I think she gave me the baby sign of approval. While I was holding her, she made a big explosive shizznit right in my lap. Leaked through her diaper onto her pants. Thank God not onto my jeans.

Incidentally, this is the second time that's happened to me. A couple months ago, my coworker brought his newborn son into the office. I was holding the little dude in my lap and he was just chilling out, staring at his parents who were sitting across the desk. Suddenly, all at the same time: I hear a loud ffrrbbbrroaawwwrrrbbbssshhhh, I feel the pressure of a jet engine shoot into my lap, and I smell the fragrance of baby poop. It was quite the sensory overload, and we all burst out laughing. It happened on the same day that Senator Palpatine called me up screaming on the phone. I guess it was my day to get shit on.

So anyhow, I digress. Even though it's my favorite subject, I didn't mean to talk about poop. I need help answering a 3-year-old's question. My friends' have this awesome little boy. Let's call him Helmet. I was hanging out with Helmet's family this weekend. After dinner we were going upstairs when his mom reminded him he had a question to ask me about Peter Pan.

So Helmet looks up at me with his innocent eyes full of wonder, holds up his hand and says, "Aunty Jackhole, you know Captain Hook? What was his name before he lost his hand?"

Um...

Uh...

Well...

Hmm...

Dang, I had no answer for the dude. I'm usually good at making stuff up, but this time, I think it would've been easier if he'd just taken a dump on me too.

Am I a creepy weirdo?

2008-06-17T23:14:00.000-07:00

I spent about an hour today in a chat room with three kids who are all in sixth-grade. It was awesome. People at work don't recognize the value of my humor, but these kids knew how to appreciate my jokes (about poop, burps and farts). I was supposed to be proofreading a legal research memo, but instead I was online talking to kids.

Wow, that kinda does sound creepy.

Does it make it better if these kids invited me to their chat room?

What if one of the kids was my niece?

I'm a dirty bitch

2008-06-06T09:54:00.001-07:00

Recently I had to figure out what I would do about cleaning out my old apartment to get back as much of my security deposit as possible. There was a bit of an internal battle I had to get past.

Argument 1: I am an attorney at a big firm making the big bucks and working for an ultra-demanding high-powered partner. My time is worth too much to be wasting on this. Whatever dollar figure they deduct from my security deposit for cleaning, I could probably make back in the time I spend taking a dump in the office (Stay out of stall 4, ladies. It's mine.). Cleaning? That's NOT how I roll.

Argument 2: Me Chinese! Must get all my moneys!!!

Being legally trained, I was able to quickly identify the more logical and compelling argument.

So, last night I had to go back to the ghetto ass apartment to clean it so I could get back as much of my measly security deposit as possible. I figured I'd drive up after work, it would take a couple of hours, and I'd be able to get home, put on another free show (take a shower) in my fishbowl house, and be in bed by midnight at the latest.

Unfortunately, I didn't take into account the fact that apparently, I'm a filthy, loathsome beast. That apartment was sooo gross and took forever to clean. I don't know how I lived there for so long. It took me over 5 hours just to clean up.

Allow myself to disgust myself.

Ok, back to billing.

UPDATE 06/13/2008: I got my whole deposit back, and it feels damn good.

Free show tonight at my place

2008-06-04T21:41:00.001-07:00

Moving day has been a success so far. I'm in my new place right now,
huddled on the floor in a corner of the master bedroom. All of my
lights are off. I have no internet access yet. No phone either. No
tv. This blackberry is my only connection to the world.

Everything is still in boxes, and I'm creeping from one room to the
next, using only the light of my blackberry to guide me.

I'm living in one of those new communities where the houses are right
up against each other.

I have no curtains so I must live in darkness. Except some things I
don't know how to do in the dark.

I'm going to go take a shower now. I hope my neighbors enjoy the show.

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Goodbye, City

2008-06-03T21:34:00.001-07:00

It's my last night in my apartment. No more views like this from my living room window.

Another Reason to Get the Hell Out of the City

2008-05-27T22:56:00.000-07:00

Someone peed on my motorcycle. WTF? My bike is covered, but there's a huge pee stain on one side. A few months ago I found a huge turd next to my bike, and it didn't come from a dog. My parking space is somebody's toilet.

I need to get out of here.

Bare necessities

2008-05-24T14:41:00.001-07:00

Uh oh. I'm moving in less than two weeks and still haven't gone furniture shopping. Looks like I'll be living in an empty house for a while...with no curtains. That should be my first priority. Otherwise, naked tuesdays might get a little awkward for the neighbors.

Anybody know a good interior decorator?

My house is on youtube...

2008-05-06T20:18:00.001-07:00

Ok, this is friggin weird. I found a video of my new place on youtube. This is the model house so none of that furniture or decor is mine. Although, I do like that dining table.

Anyhow, if you want a virtual tour of the house, enjoy this:

UPDATE (5/11/2008 2:07pm PT): And no, the girl in the bathroom does not come with the house.

Moving to the 'burbs

2008-05-05T13:49:00.000-07:00

Is anybody out there? It's been forever since my last post. I've been a little busy, but I have some exciting news!

Finally, after 4 months of paying a mortgage, I'm actually going to get to move into my new place. The date is set for a June 4 move, and frankly, I can't wait to get the hell out of the city.

My life is sad. I spend 12+ hours a day at work, and I drive 35 miles to get there. My new place is less than 10 miles from the office. Just think of all the extra hours a week I can spend billing instead of driving!

As much as I'm looking forward to the move, it's stressing me out. I have a ton of stuff to toss out and/or sell. I'm in my mid-30s, and I've been living in dumpy college-style apartments all this time. My place right now is full of cheap-o ikea furniture (lovingly assembled by D & L. Thanks!) After almost 4 years in this apartment, I still have NOTHING on my walls. Moving to a new house, I'm feeling the pressure to actually decorate, so it'll look like a real grown-up lives there.

Maybe I'll actually get off my ass and post some before and after photos...

My Star Wars Nickname

2008-03-27T00:44:00.000-07:00

So on one of my cases, they decided to give everyone nicknames from Star Wars. At first we were all just "the kids" and the two partners were "mommy" and "daddy". Me and my fellow first year were considered "the twins", even though he is a tall skinny white guy, and um, I am not.

We soon realized the family motif wasn't working so well, because we were getting too dysfunctional. There was tension between "mommy" and "daddy", and "the kids" were worried they'd get divorced.

ANYWAY, someone came up with the bright idea of Star Wars nicknames. My former twin was quickly labelled C3PO, so by default I get to be R2. It seems to fit well with my former tech background, and people seems fond of telling me to "jam my fist in there" whenever I'm doing anything with the defendant's software.

Unfortunately, I mentioned these nicknames to my mother. She's taken quite a liking to it, and now refers to me in the third person using my friggin nickname.

(speaking to me on the phone) "Oooh, me better not talking so long. R2D2 sounding tired."

(in person when I come to visit) "I not eating yet. R2D2 is hungry?"

Sigh.

Oh, watch this clip of an adorable 3-year kid summarizing the plot of Episode IV. Priceless.

Helpless Buffoons (aka First Year Lawyers)

2008-03-21T18:24:00.000-07:00

Wow. Less than six months as a lawyer, and I've already become completely inept. Two days ago, I had to get my secretary to teach me how to send a fax. Again. She's already shown me like three times.

This evening, I need to mail a letter to opposing counsel. All the secretaries are gone, and my favorite paralegal has left for the day. I just walked into my friend's office and asked, "Hey, um, do you know how to mail a letter?"

After laughing, he responded, "You know, it's sad that you have to even ask that." Then he paused, and continued, "But it's even sadder that I have to tell you that I have absolutely no idea."

Crack is whack, unless it's from your mom

2008-03-14T01:59:00.000-07:00

The following is based on a true story.

Once upon a time, there was a child who rode the bus to and from school. One day, after riding the bus home from school, the child had some trouble at the bus-stop. With a heavy backpack full of books, the child slipped while trying to step down from the bus. Arms flailing, legs slipping forward and giving way, the poor thing landed with a jolt, smack on its bottom.

The entire crowd of children on the bus witnessed the fall. Laughter ensued, much to our youngster's dismay and embarrassment. Suffering physical and emotional pain, the child bravely got up, and somehow made it back home.

Soon, Mother called to check that her child had made it home safely. Sniffling, the child answered the phone, but hearing Mother's voice brought back the tears. Through the sobs, Mother was able to piece together the fact that the child had fallen off the bus. Mother called Father, and then she rushed home from work.

Father called to let the child know that Mother was on her way. The child began sobbing again, not because of any physical pain (although it was later discovered that the tailbone was cracked), but from the embarrasment of the situation. All the kids were LAUGHING at me!!!

Soon, Mother arrived home and did everything she could to comfort her child. Hugs, words of comfort, offers of snacks...but nothing would work. The crying continued. Eventually, Mother changed out of her work clothes into her comfy home outfit, and began to do chores around the house. Father would be home soon. The child, still sniffling and inconsolable, followed Mother around the house.

Busy cleaning up, Mother bent over to put things away in a lower cabinet. As she did so, her sweatpants slipped down revealing a tiny bit of ass-cleavage. The child, standing behind Mother, observed the crack, and in true wise-ass fashion said, "DANG! I hope you don't show that to all the people at work!"

And miraculously, the child was no longer upset. All was well in the world now. Well, except now, Mother was not happy.

Quitting Bad Habits

2008-03-13T14:13:00.001-07:00

I always have these random moments during the year, where I feel the need to make some self-improvements. In that spirit, I decided last weekend to quit two very bad habits.

1. Smoking (oh, I know. Here we go again. Let's see how long this lasts.)
2. Talking to my ex.

So far, I've done very well with #1. Up until Sunday, my daily routine would be to crawl out of bed, stumble to the fire escape, and light up. Then I'd get ready for work. On the way to work, I'd have about 4-5 smokes in the car. Then there were all the breaks during work. Another 4-5 on the way home. And maybe one more before I go to bed. Ugh, it was actually pretty disgusting, now that I think about it. Anyhow, since Sunday night, I have not had a single cigarette.

With regards to #2, I've also done very well...unless, well, unless email counts as talking. I had to email him twice about some business-related matters. Well, I don't know if I had to, but I did anyway. Ok, I'll stop emailing him too. Fine. Jeez, stop being so judgmental already!

Anyhow, I need something to quit starting next week. I have a few ideas, but I can't decide.

Blackberry Test Post

2008-02-12T15:32:00.001-08:00

If this works, I'll have something to do during meetings that will
make me look busy and important.

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Blackberry Test Post

2008-02-12T15:30:00.001-08:00

If this works, I'll have something to do during meetings that will
make me look busy and important.

--
Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Happy New Year! You're Fired.

2008-02-07T20:06:00.000-08:00

A group of us went out for dim sum today to celebrate the lunar new year. The group consisted of two partners, five associates, and two secretaries. I sat next to one of the partners, because, well, that's how I roll.

As soon as we sat down, we started getting ready, pouring tea for everyone, placing our napkins in our laps, picking up our chopsticks, checking out the carts, and so on. They had a nice assortment of hot sauce, hot mustard, and soy sauce at the table, and as the sauce tray went around, some of the Asians started teasing the pale, round-eyed folks about whether they could handle the hot sauce.

"You sure you can take that? By they way, are you going to need a fork too?"

"Oooh, that sauce is really hot. Watch out, it'll burn your pale flesh."

You know, crap like that.

The partner sitting next to me - a very decent, austere, proper, politically-correct, serious, well-respected, brilliant lawyer - smiled grimly and cleared his throat. At which point, I figured I was dead, because let's face it, I was the one doing most of the trash talking.

But, Mr. Partner ignored my childishness and started to tell a story in his well-spoken, authoritative, and precisely-enunciated manner.

"You know, speaking of hot things, my wife the other day was heading out to go..."

At which point, I couldn't help myself. I just had to do it. I immediately jumped in and stopped him. I felt eight pairs of eyes burning into me. Looks of horror. How the hell could this dumb first-year associate dare interrupt a senior partner?

I opened my mouth and blurted out, "Mr. Partner! Um...you just said 'speaking of hot things...my WIFE...'"

Everyone stared. In that second, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I was pretty sure I'd be fired before lunch ended.

But then EVERYONE busted up laughing, including Mr. Partner. I think his face turned a little red too. The associate next to me suggested that perhaps I was a bit too junior to be making such comments. I immediately apologized to Mr. Partner, and he was totally cool about it. When he was done laughing, he immediately quipped to his secretary, "Make sure you tell my wife that I said that."

I love the partners at my firm.

But I still think I'm getting fired.

Billable Hours

2008-02-04T05:30:00.000-08:00

It's 5:20am, and I'm already at the office. What the hell am I doing here?

Well, first of all, I couldn't sleep last night. I woke up at around 1:45am and could not fall back asleep. So I lay in bed for a while, got up to get some water, and then decided to hook up my xbox again and play some guitar hero. I made my way through the first 8 songs on expert level, and then realized I was just wasting time. Might as well get to the office early and try to catch up on my pathetic billables.

We're supposed to bill a minimum of 1900 hours a year. Assuming that we take some vacation time, it works out to roughly 40 hours a week that we should be billing, or 8 hours a day. Last week, I was in the office about 13-14 hours per day. Somehow, I wasn't ever able to bill more than 7 hours each day. I guess you could say that I've been distracted. My hours for January are pretty damn awful. I didn't even break 100. Yes, I was gone for a week and there were two holidays, but still. Geez. Not even a hundred?!?!

These guys are gonna fire me any day now.

So now I have 11 months to bill 1800 hours. Other associates are telling me not to worry about it, because the work will come in and I'll be billing like mad. Unfortunately, my problem isn't a lack of work. I've actually got enough shit on my plate to bill 10 hours a day. I just can't focus for that long. Maybe I need ritalin or something. Anyone know what the symptoms of A.D.D. are so I can trick a shrink into prescribing some pills? I'd research it myself on the internet, but unfortunately, I have to go bill now.

UPDATE 10:35am: I am a frigging billing machine!!! 4.6 hours so far.

My slow descent into madness

2008-01-27T23:33:00.000-08:00

For the most part, people can't tell that I'm slowly going insane. But I can tell. I see it happening in little ways, each day.

For example, last week at work, the nameplate of one of my coworkers fell off his door. Another coworker walked by, saw the name on the floor, and mentioned it out loud. "John Smith* fell on the floor." I overheard, and I burst out laughing uncontrollably for about 10 minutes. I had to shut my office door because I was so loud.

A few days later, I was alone in the bathroom and I thought about it again. I started giggling like mad. Someone walked in while I was laughing in the stall. I had to stay in there until she left, so she wouldn't know who I was. Shoot! I forgot to lift my feet up. She probably saw my shoes and figured out it was me. Sigh, now they'll all know I'm mad.

I try not to think about the nameplate on the floor anymore. Otherwise I start laughing.

Crap. I just thought about it. heeheeheehahaha. Shoot, brb.

Phew, haha, ok. Anyway.

Also, I've decided that crazy people sleep a lot. I spent the weekend sleeping. The entire weekend, I was asleep. I wasn't tired. I just didn't want to be awake. Well, I was awake for a few hours. On Saturday, I woke up at around 6pm to drive around for no apparent reason. I was afraid that driving around aimlessly could be a sign of madness. So I stopped by KFC and bought a gigantic bucket of chicken. In my twisted mind, a whole bucket is less crazy than a 2 piece meal. All I really wanted was a Coke. But they only have Pepsi there. I ate some of the chicken but ended up throwing most of it away. Then I went back to sleep. I woke up again soon after because my friends, David & Lynna, asked me to come out for dessert. We almost ate frog ejaculate at a Chinese dessert place. (Do a google search on "crystal snow"). Thank God we didn't. Chinese people are gross.

Sunday (today), I woke up for the third time. It was around 1pm. I watched some tv and decided I was tired of being awake, so I went back to sleep. Then I woke up again in the evening to have a fight with my mom. I'm tired.

Tomorrow I'll have to get up for real and pretend to be a functioning member of society again.

*My coworker's name is Mike Cox...

Taiwan is the stupidest country in the world.

2008-01-22T01:13:00.000-08:00

I hope China takes over really soon.

Uh oh. I'm sure tons of people are ready to hunt me down and waterboard me until I take back those statements. I grew up going to a church full of a bunch of die-hard Taiwan-pride types. Don't you dare call them Chinese. They're TAIWANESE, goddamit! Of course, they were so proud of Taiwan that they would do all they could to make sure their kids avoided the mandatory military draft. But anyhow, I digress.

Taiwan sucks. Their legislators scream, pull hair, and throw chairs at each other. Their cities smell like garbage and poo. Oh, and they have fucked-up debt inheritance laws.

My dad. He's like the gift that won't stop giving. Apparently, he's left a lot of debt and thanks to the advanced legal system of the stupid island of Formosa, those debts get passed on to the heirs. Well, I'm not too worried, since all of my assets are in the U.S., and the Taiwanese government has no jurisdiction over me. Even if his creditors got any kind of judgment against me and my siblings, I can't imagine them being able to enforce it at all. But my mom recently consulted a lawyer in Taipei, who suggested that just in case, we go to the trouble of filing papers in the Taiwanese courts to reject our inheritance. This way, if any of my dad's creditors get any kind of judgment against his estate, as his heirs we won't be liable and won't have to risk getting arrested or whatnot the next time we go back to Taiwan.

As if I'm ever going to return and set foot on that piece of shit they call an island.

But, as an attorney, it's unprofessional for me to be so hot-headed and shoot my mouth off this way. Earlier, I felt obligated to do a little research so I could help advise my brother and sister about what we should do. This is my conclusion: Taiwan is a sorry ass country with stupid ass laws. We should never go back there again.

(To my favorite niece: I'm sorry for all the bad words in this post. By my count, I now owe you five more dollars. Will you take a personal check? Also, Taiwan really isn't that bad. Aunty is just upset right now. This is called "freedom of expression". Something that makes America great. Unlike Taiwan.)

Rest in Peace

2008-01-14T22:14:00.000-08:00

My dad passed away this weekend.

I never got to say goodbye. I never got to thank him for all the sacrifices he made for us. I never got to cuss him out for all the shit that he did to us. I never got to really understand him. So now I'm left with a sense of loss, a lot of misdirected anger, and a ton of unanswered questions.

I believe the healthy thing to do is to focus on the happy memories I have of him. Unfortunately, I only have bittersweet thoughts about my dad. He was a goofy, silly, funny guy, and was always playing with us and entertaining us as kids. But I can't recall happy events without triggering a feeling about how frigging sad and hurt I was when he left. I wish I could separate the thoughts in my mind, but after years and years, my brain seems to have rewired itself. Now each memory of him being a good dad seems to be connected to a feeling sadness and loss rather than one of comfort and happiness.

I think I need electroshock therapy or something.

Happy New Year...sort of

2008-01-09T11:16:00.000-08:00

My apologies for the lack of posting these past few weeks. A lot has been going on. Work was kicking my ass. I was also in the process of buying my first home, so I was very busy trying to get the deal closed. I'll be moving in a few months closer to work.

Also, I just got back from a weeklong trip to Asia. I received a phone call in the middle of the night on new year's eve, that my father had suddenly been taken to the hospital. It sounded very serious so all of his children immediately flew overseas. He was unconscious when we arrived and has not woken up. It seems unlikely that he ever will.

I'm still processing everything that's happened. I was really looking forward to 2008, since 2007 was not my best year. Here's a quick recap of last year.

- Diagnosed with major depressive disorder and started taking meds
- Graduated from law school
- Bought a motorcycle
- Started dating a great guy
- Took the bar exam
- Started a new job
- Broke up with the guy
- Became a borderline alcoholic
- Passed the bar exam
- Went to Spain with my sister
- Quit taking meds
- Bought a new house
- Found out my Dad was dying

Needless to say, it's been a year of extreme highs and lows. I'm exhausted. Here's hoping 2008 will be a more stable year.

I'm sure I'll be back to my jolly self in a little while. I have a fabulous Christmas Eve story to share with you all, so hang in there. Oh, and I still owe you all a second installment of the poop story.

Ewww....pedophiles intruding on my blog

2007-12-17T20:08:00.000-08:00

Wow. So I was on sitemeter checking to see if more than 3 people are reading my site. I noticed that I had a visitor from the UK, and I wondered whether some of my old London friends, from a few years ago when I lived there for work, have somehow found me.

Instead, I find out that it was some random gross person. The referring URL is google, and the search terms are...

"little girls bare bums"

WHY DOES THAT SEARCH STRING TAKE YOU TO THIS BLOG?!?!? EWWWWWWWWWWWW!

I need to throw in some innocent words to counter the effects:

butterflies flowers angels Jesus peace on earth goodwill towards men clouds raindrops on roses whiskers on kittens bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens brown paper packages tied up with string...

Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have "package" on here. shoot! I just did it twice. crap!
Oh god, could "whiskers" be dirty somehow?

Crap, I should quit while i'm ahead. Dammit! I just said "head". Forget it.

Negotiation Tip #1: Bring Mommy

2007-12-13T12:23:00.000-08:00

Sorry I haven't posted for a few days...not a good way to start out a new blog. I have a good excuse though: I'm in the process of trying to buy a new townhouse. It's the model home in a new development about 10 miles from where I work. It's not a done deal yet, but hopefully soon. I'm going back today to sign a bunch of paperwork, so I'll take some pictures and post them later.

By the way, my mom is the best negotiator ever! Earlier this week we were going back and forth on the price and we were getting pretty close to the number I wanted. The sales manager was scribbling a bunch of figures down on a piece of paper. First he wrote down the original asking price. Then he took off a few thousand for some wall units that never got built, then he he took off a bunch of money for a discount we had asked for, then he reduced it by some loan incentives we get for using their lender, etc. etc.

We were only a couple of thousand dollars off at that point from my original offer. So my mom busts out with the following compelling argument:

"We are the Chinese. We rike even lumbers." (Poor mom has always had trouble pronouncing the word "number".)

Anyhow, she then proceeds to write in really big print, the figure representing my original offer, just in case the sales guy forgot. "You lumber so ugry! So you preez just to make plice rike this. This more preety."

I had suppress my laughter and nod solemnly. I looked over to my right and my real estate agent, a friend of my mom's, was nodding his head vigorously. But then amazingly enough, the sales guy kept using that number for the rest of the conversation.

My mommy kicks ass!

Touching poo with bare hands (Part 1)

2007-12-10T00:38:00.001-08:00

Episode 1

This tale begins almost 30 years ago. It's early in the evening, upstairs in the home of a young family. Picture two of the children - a girl and a boy - playing together in the tub with their bath toys. They're splashing around having a great time without a care in the world. Suddenly, the little girl stops playing, squats in the water, and begins to concentrate. Within seconds the boy has jumped up and is screaming.

"It's ok, it's ok," pleads the girl. She doesn't want to get into trouble, even though she's not sure she's done anything wrong. She's thinking.

Normally, poo goes in the toilet. The toilet is full of water. The bathtub is also full of water. So isn't it ok for poo to go in the bathtub?

Perhaps her logic is flawed somehow. Her brother's actions strongly suggest that she has made a mistake.

Ah-ha! I know what to do.

"Don't worry," says the girl, beginning to be frightened by her brother's reaction. "It's not that big. I'll get rid of it."

She reaches and picks up the big, brown shark with one hand. The boy is standing in the tub, looking horrified, and is scrambling to get out.

Meanwhile, she's still standing in the water. The water is still warm. She doesn't want to get out, but she needs to get rid of the offending intruder. She leans over, holding brown boy in her right hand. "See? No big deal," she says to her brother as she casually tosses the item in the toilet.

She misses.

It lands with a thud on the carpet. (Who the hell puts CARPET in the bathroom? The 70s were a strange time.)

By now, the boy is out of the tub and has grabbed his towel and is making a bolt for the door.

The girl dutifully climbs out of the tub to clean up her mess. She tries once more to convince her brother to stay and finish the bath, but he's determined to leave. She picks up the log, drops it in the toilet, and flushes.

The boy makes his exit shouting for mommy. She watches him leave, shrugs, and then climbs back into the tub to wash her hands and finish her bath. After all, the water is still warm and there are still bubbles left.

Episode 2

Coming soon...

Bah Humbug

2007-12-09T00:05:00.000-08:00

I took my mother to the mall today because she needed to do her Christmas shopping. Here are some things about my mother:

1) As the oldest of four children, she was the first to immigrate to the U.S. and eventually brought her entire family over here;
2) She raised 3 children on her own;
3) She owns her own home and has lived alone for the last 10+ years;
4) She travels the so frequently that she had to request additional pages in her passport b/c she ran out of space for all the stamps;
5) She wrote a book which got published.

So she seems pretty independent, right? Well, here's another thing about her:

6) She's completely incapable of shopping alone. This means she just won't do it unless someone goes with her.

Here's something about me:

1) I hate shopping, especially with my mother.

It's not that I don't like her company. I would just rather do ANYTHING ELSE other than go shopping with her. It's all about efficiency, or the lack thereof...she just doesn't know how to make a decision. Today, every store we entered, it would take a gabillionzillion minutes for her to make up her mind about ONE item. I don't want to name the stores lest I give away hints about what people are getting for Christmas. So I'll use code names.

First we went into "Victoria's Shh-Don't-Tell-Anyone" to get my brother's gift. My mother knew what she wanted to get for him, so we looked at that first. But then we had to take a few days to look at EVERY SINGLE OTHER item in the store before she went back to the first item. Then it took another few weeks to decide what size and color. The place was crowded as hell, and people kept jostling past us, grabbing for the sale items, and moving in and out of the store. Oh, here's another thing about me:

2) Crowds of people make me feel claustrophobic, anxious, and irritable.

By the time we paid in that first store, I was wasted away and ready to go home.

We went to a few more stores to get gifts for the rest of the people on her list. And I could slowly feel myself going insane from trying to swim through the sea of shoppers as I drowned in the noise of the crowd. I'm pretty sure I died at least once because I remember going towards a tunnel and a bright light. It was very quiet and peaceful, and I remember feeling happy to have escaped the mall. But then suddenly I felt like I was being yanked back. I tasted something cool, tangy and sweet in my mouth. It was so refreshing, and I wanted more. I opened my eyes and at first thought I was in hell. But it was worse. To my dismay I was alive and well, and sitting in the food court.

Hot-Dog-on-a-Stick Lemonade, people. The miracle that can save a life that doesn't want to be saved.

Anyhow, after resurrecting me, my mother wanted to keep shopping. The same process described above happened a few more times...I think. I don't really remember anymore. I'm pretty sure I'm in my late sixties by now and somehow my memory has faded with age.

Here we go again...

2007-12-07T01:36:00.000-08:00

Allow myself to welcome myself back into the wonderful world of blogging. Now that I'm a practicing attorney, I think it's time for me to start posting again, but under a new pseudonym. I've graduated law school, passed the bar, and started my legal career as an associate at an international law firm. Yeah, check me out, bitches! No longer am I simply a bum. Now I am a complete A. Whole.

Thank you to all my loyal friends who have expressed to me on multiple occasions how much they missed the old blog. I killed that thing for a number of different reasons -- none of which I can seem to recall anymore. But, I'm back, and I'm prepared with all new material to entertain the asses...er, masses.

So, I hope you'll stop by to view my internal journey of reflective self-absorption.