Tuesday, November 28, 2006
I may be the only person in the world who looks forward to the commercialization of Christmas.
Cheesy TV specials? Bring ‘em on.
Store decorations? I’ll help hang the tinsel.
Endless toy/car/razor/ipod/etc commercials? Love those too. Anyone who watches the superbowl for the commercials should as well.
And though I can't say I necessarily agree with their playlist choices, I love the fact that Christmas music is already on the radio. And though Buffalo radio execs have never really listened to me in the past, I will say I think it's about time to retire Christmas Shoes and Dear Mr. Jesus.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I was lucky enough to attend Lisa’s family dinner last night where a happy and sleepy Maeve was passed around like so many cooked yams.
I didn't get out to my parents until today (the original day of sloth), but here're pics from Uncle Neil of the prep. This is mom making oyster stuffing:
Here's dad making one of the roasted turkeys. They also fried one and smoked one:
Nana and Papa with Maeve:
Things for which my parents are thankful:
Now who's ready for another sandwich?
Monday, November 20, 2006
Saturday morning found me up early, ironing a shirt and going over my summation. I was jittery, half because of nerves and half because of shitty hotel coffee. Litigation isn’t acting. Litigation is arguing. Responding. It’s much more genuine. Even in a fake case, the reason you’re saying a line is because you’re trying to prove a point. It’s you making a case, not a character being a character.
This idea has scared me since I was accepted into law school. I knew the transition from stage to court would be tough. Genetically, I had big shoes to fill. I could play a part, but I had a long way to go before I could compare myself to my uncles, my sister, or Papa.
Anyway, while I was waiting for the rest of my team to get ready, I sent a picture of myself to Lisa. Just so she’d know I wasn’t walking into court with my fly open.
My case did not... go well. And that’s about the best you’ll hear me speak of it. I know I’m better than I did in that room, so I’d rather not dwell. Suffice it to say the other side won heartily, and in fact they went on to win the “Most Professional” award. (Even though they did use notes. At least when I lost, I did it without frickin’ training wheels.)
When I got out of the courtroom, I wanted to find a crack in the wall and hibernate until that part of my brain responsible for repressing memory kicked in. I was ready to accept my fate and a Home Depot application.
Then I read a text message Lisa sent me while I was in court, and it was exactly, exactly, what I needed to hear. She always did have good timing.
The defense got another crack at it in the third preliminary round, and as always, they kicked ass. Alex had his best summation yet, and Jen deserved the three nominations she got for Best Advocate. I was happy then, even hopeful, since my co-counsel, Mike, had done well during our case (he actually said “I got nothin’ else for this guy” when he finished his cross of the defendant) which meant we might be able to squeak through on points. Alas, it wasn’t enough. We drank that night like people who didn’t have to get up early.
When we stumbled back to our hotel, the same hotel that had hosted an Irish step dancing competition that weekend, we made our way to the bar for one last round. I saw a lone trophy sitting on the concierge’s desk, and the graveyard shift guy must have noticed me calculating my drunken theft of it because he held it out and said simply “It was an extra from the dance thing. Want it?” Hells yes.
The flight home was sobering. I hate the fact that I worked for months on this case and the one time I was judged was when I had trouble functioning as a human being, much less as a lawyer. But hey, I had a trophy, I learned a lot, and at least Lisa thought I looked the part of the greatest lawyer I ever met:
But... I didn't come home empty handed. More on my clepto-, I mean, on my trophy later.
Also, I know I couldn't have gotten nearly as far as I did without the wellwishes, support, prayers , crossed fingers, etc. of my family, friends, student assistants, etc. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I share my stolen trophy- I mean my trophy- with you.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
I miss my family, by the way. No surprises there. I'm so much happier that I have them instead of dog. Like a sheeghuawah.
Friday, November 17, 2006
On the flight down, I sat next to a flight-phobic stoner with a chiwawa (sp?). Seriously. She hadn't flown since 1992 and was joking she was happy she didn't bring any of her pot with her. or her BOMBS. I turned up my ipod and pretended to be able to sleep despite her whimpering pup.
Keep those fingers crossed.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
This weekend, I’m off to Atlanta where I and three of my classmates will represent Buffalo Law School in a national mock trial competition. It’s the culmination of months of work. The reason I’ve been absent from blogging, family events, bar stools, poker nights, and even a few other classes. It has absolutely sucked and at the same time is actually kind of cool.
Here’s how it works: There are 18 teams to begin with. In the first round, which is tomorrow through Saturday, each school gets to run the case three times. They flip a coin to see if you’re the defense or the prosecution, so you have to be ready to do either. Saturday night, there’s a banquet where the teams who have been chosen to move on to round two get drunk in celebration and those who didn’t move on get drunk. Also in celebration.
Then the semi-finals are Sunday morning. Only four schools (out of 18) get into the semis. The two teams who win those trials go on to the final round that afternoon.
Even if you don’t make it past the prelims, you can still win the Best Advocate. That’s based, I think, on how well you bullshit not as a team, but on how well you bullshit as an individual.
Cross those fingers, yes?
In other news, here are things I wanted to blog about lately but just haven’t gotten around to it:
-My in-laws got me a fancy schmancy new watch. I’m still taking out my phone to see what time it is, just by force of habit. (one month, by the way)
-I had to fight someone for a parking spot yesterday. I won, but I think I somehow got my eyes to glow red like teen wolf.
-I assume My Chemical Romance is the MacDonald’s of goth, but damn, they can play a song that’ll catch my attention every time.
-Speaking of music, I won’t be renewing my rhapsody account at the end of this billing cycle, which is February. It will be missed, but Pandora, woxy, limewire, Maeve singing, etc. will fill in some of that void. Plus, I can take the money and just buy a new cd every month or so.
-And finally, this. Fucking Buffalo.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Instead of typing royaltoybox.blogspot into your address bar and hitting Ctrl and Enter at the same time, just make the RT your homepage.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
So they aren’t going to need it, but just in case, everyone keep your fingers crossed through the weekend.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
I saw a similar scene this morning when I dropped Maeve off with my mom, except that Maeve wasn't sleeping soundly, she was looking at me as I walked out the door. Her face was so confused. Dissapointed. Like I was leaving forever. I know she's happy with her Nana, but that image has stayed with me all day long. I pulled this pic out to counteract it.
Wish it was doing a better job.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
And of course, no one saw it. Four people in this room and no one saw my miracle. But now if I turn around and tell Fellow Office Denizen Tina, she’s not going to be impressed; she’s going to ask why I haven’t finished putting cover sheets on my TPS reports and go back to her mail merge.
So here are my options:
OPTION 1: The “Eight Ball, Corner Pocket” Option…
Me: Guys, watch this.
Everyone else: We’re working.
Me: No, no- I’m awesome. Just watch.
Everyone Else: (sighing) Fine. What?
Me: I’m gonna wow you with my ninja-like skillz (I aim, the rubber band snaps, hits me in the eye, I cry and run out)
Everyone Else: Doesn’t that guy have a kid? (goes back to work)
OPTION 2: The “Yeah, Well, Neener Neener” Option…
Someone Else: I spent the summer helping underprivileged youths.
Me: No kidding! I did something amazing once. I landed a rubber band in a coffee mug ten feet away. (They didn’t see it. I can exaggerate if I want. Shut up.)
OPTION 3: The “Silent Confidence” Option…
Someone Else: (Won’t let me merge from an onramp into their lane)
Me: Jerk. You think you’re so awesome. But how good are YOU with a rubber band, huh?
OPTION 4: The “You Know This Is The Option I’m Going To Pick” Option…
Me: Fine then, I’ll just use the same avenue I always use to let people know of my greatness, the Royal Toybox.
By the way, if anyone wants to see my baby humoring her mother, check these pictures out. You’ll relish them. (Bad pun courtesy of Maeve’s Papa.)