My Life, As Told Between (Baby Cakes') Naps

It rained rather heavily last night – the biggest storm so far this winter.  Of course, it actually only rained for about five hours and the sun’s back up and shining this morning.  Still, LA was apparently devastated by the torrential downpour yesterday, judging by the fact that every single traffic light between my apartment and the office (a six mile stretch) was wiped out.  Police officers swarmed the streets trying to maintain order.  Where traffic is concerned, LA is always poised on the edge of anarchy. 

I swear, if Armageddon hits, this city is the first to go – unless Armageddon is accompanied by lots of sunshine and warm weather (which, what with all the talk of global warming, is a distinct possibility).  

Unfortunately the shoes did not work out.  I love these dresses though.  The one on the left I can actually semi-afford.  The one on the right is entirely outside of my budget.  I have no occasion to wear either however.  (For the love of God, someone give me an occasion!  Any occasion!!)

And I promise, at some point there will be something to this blog other than a series of pictures of things I want.  Really. 

I ordered these last week.  They should be arriving tomorrow.  Aren’t they beautiful? *Loving sigh*

The heels are over 3 inches tall, which means they’ll be insanely uncomfortable, but as long as I don’t attempt something silly, like walking in them, I should be fine.  And, hey, at least they’ll keep the hems of my new jeans from dragging the floor!

Yes, I also bought new jeans.  As soon as I lose a smidge of weight, the first thing I generally do is run out and foolishly buy a pair (or, um, three) of new jeans.  I often do this before verifying that the weight loss is due to something more than a temporary tear in the fabric of the universe.  I have a pair I bought a couple of years ago that I was only able to wear once before the universe righted itself again and they stopped fitting.  Well, either the tear is back and space/time as we know it is in danger or I’ve lost weight – I tried them on this week and am at the point where I can button them again.  A few more pounds and I might also be able to breathe while wearing them.  =)

It was pitch black and pouring as I drove to Santa Monica at 6:30 this morning for my 26.2 mile run.  It was the kind of rain LA gets only once or twice a year.  I was convinced I was crazy and that no one would be there. 

“I’ll just drop by in case someone is there and tell them I won’t be running today.  After all, no sane person would attempt to run in this weather,” I thought.  Apparently runners are a little crazy.  All ten of us showed up, despite the downpour, shivering and wearing garbage bags to stay dry.  It was the first time I felt like a real runner. 

Fortunately, the sky miraculously cleared up and we were able to complete the run in beautiful weather.  I’d secretly hoped for as much during my drive, but was still stunned when it happened.  I was expecting to be wet and miserable during the run, and likely sick afterwards, but aside from dodging massive puddles, it was perfect.  And unlike the 22 mile run, when my body shut down during the last two miles, I felt great the entire time today and finished feeling like there were still a couple of miles in me.  Yay! 

(Sorry, I know some of you hate my “I love running” posts.  Please feel free to skip reading this one!  Although I guess if you’ve already made it this far, it’s too late.  If it makes you feel any better, the running high’s gone and I’m limping and a little miserable right now!)

We were discussing diets in my office the other day, as we often do, when I mentioned I’ve been doing Weight Watchers on and off for the last couple of years.  One of the very nice, super-skinny secretaries gasped in a flattering manner and said, “You don’t need to lose any weight!  What are you, [redacted] pounds? (citing a range ten to fifteen pounds lighter than my actual weight).”

I froze, looking like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.  Panic.  Someone had blatantly asked my weight?  What to do?  What to do?

Swiftly thinking (not), I mumbled, “Um, actually, I weigh [redacted].” 

The aforementioned secretary blinked once before blurting out, “No, really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe you have heavy bones.”

Later on in the day, I recounted this conversation to JP1, complete with redactions. 

JP1:  So what do you really weigh?

Me:  I’m not going to tell you!  And stop right there, I can tell you’re going to guess.  That is never a good idea.

JP1:  You look about my wife’s size.

Me:  Um, is this the wife you mentioned is chubby?

JP1:  Yes.

Me:  You realize I’m going to tell everyone in the office you’ve called me fat, right?

JP1:  I’ve put my foot in my mouth again, haven’t I?

Me:  Yes.

Women are insane. 

I went to La Salsa today with super-skinny co-worker N.  N is, for some reason, still fanatically dieting for her wedding in Cabo. 

Anyways, we ended up in two different lines at La Salsa.  I order a chile-lime chicken salad.  It comes with chicken, tomatoes, chile-lime dressing, tortilla chip strips, avocados, and cheese.   I ask them to hold the chile-lime dressing, tortilla chip strips, avocados, and cheese. 

N orders a chicken taco salad which comes with chicken, tomatoes, rice, beans, guacamole and sour cream.  She asks them to hold the rice, beans, guacamole and sour cream. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll ask for a bean and cheese burrito, but substitute chicken for the beans, tomatoes for the cheese, and salad for the tortilla.  =)

Note:  It’s been brought to my attention that the funniest part of this story isn’t very clear.  [*Pretend I’m Roomie*]  See – the salads were THE SAME.  They started out as entirely DIFFERENT salads, but ended up with the exact same ingredients!  Hence, the last line about starting with a burrito tomorrow and ending up with the same salad.  Funny, right?  [*Just agree with me*]

It is sweet. 

My hearing went really well today, so I’m going to do all the celebrating on this blog that I didn’t get to do in court.  Apparently they don’t like it when you start dancing on the benches.  =)

(*happy dance*)

I was nervous while waiting in my car (I ended up arriving insanely early) but was fine once I got into the courtroom.  It was definitely odd being the youngest attorney there though.  And the shortest.  And the womanest.  Which is not to say I was more womanly than the other female attorneys, just that there weren’t any other female attorneys.

(*continues the happy dance*)

(*stops, ponders*) 

Uh, I’m not being obnoxious, am I? 

Remember when I said I was done with purses?  I may have purchased another one last week.  It may have arrived in the mail today.  I may have been admiring it all morning.  The hypothetical purse may or may not look like the following (but in a rich, chocolatey brown):

I’m not admitting to anything, but I may have a problem.

I was going to write about my weekend in Arizona, but the Frog did such a great job here, I don’t really have anything to add! 

Oh, but while I have your attention, I might as well share a short work story.  So, I have my first hearing this Thursday.  I’m arguing two motions and am a little nervous (i.e., terrified).  I made the mistake of seeking reassurance from JP1, who, while fantastic, is not so warm and fuzzy.  When asked if he had any advice for me, he replied, “Don’t cry.”  I’m not making any promises.

In any case, I’m hoping if I use the word “clearly” often enough, the judge will rule in my favor.  For those lucky few reading this who aren’t lawyers, “clearly” is an attorney’s favorite word.  The magic in “clearly” is that it transforms mere speculation into incontrovertible fact.  It’s the blankie in our legal lexicon.  As long as we can cling to it, we’re safe.  Clearly. 

My Roomie’s told me on several occasions that she’s spent much of her life living with people who were apparently just short of mentally challenged.  The interesting side effect of that is that she often treats me like I’m one of those people (although maybe I am…).  While watching Law & Order SVU several weeks ago, she commented that the cops can be just as bad as the criminals on this show.  She then went on to explain this concept:

Roomie:  See, it’s like cops are standing on one side and criminals on the other.  And there’s a line separating them, but it’s a thin line … blah, blah, blah … [*ten minutes pass*].  Does that make sense?

Me:   Um, Roomie, you know I’m not five, right?  I get it.  Plus, there’s the having majored in English literature thing.  The thin line separating good and evil is a major literary motif.  I’ve dedicated many a paper to it.  I get it.

Roomie:  Oh, right, sorry.  I was just trying to explaing how Detective Stabler can be just as much a thug as the criminal he purports to hate.  It’s like he can see himself in them….blah, blah, blah…thin line…blah, blah, blah…

Me:  Did you seriously just explain that concept again?  Seriously?

Roomie:  You know I lived with people who couldn’t feed themselves!  I’m USED to explaining everything.

Me:  You realize that in all likelihood, they could probably do so before they lived with you, right?  I myself am losing some critical life skills.  Do you remember that one time I tried to clean the kitchen counter, but you said you liked cleaning and had a Three Step Process, which I found too complicated so I gave up?  Noticed how I haven’t attempted to clean the counter since?  I don’t think I remember how to any more.  [*pause*]  It’s okay.  You can’t help it.  You’re a giver.  That must be hard.  I wouldn’t know. 

Roomie:  Yes, I’ve noticed. *

* Roomie asked me to note for the record that she didn’t actually make this last statement at all.  This is more likely something I would say.  She, being much nicer, actually said something reassuring and sweet.