This past weekend we went up to Canada and got our maple leaf on! We were there to visit my husband's friends, drink, and engage in ridiculous behavior so we left Jacob with more responsible people (my parents).
The more I visit Canada, the more I like it. I don't know what it is? Maybe the fact that I can go to a Casino and not get carded (19 years is drinking age). It makes me feel so grown up. Or it could be that they have an amazingly good dessert called Nanaimo bars. It's like german chocolate cake meets pudding meets a chocolate bar! On the way home we stopped at a grocery store and I bought their entire stock.
The only problem with going to Canada is that it's like a four hour trip one way from where we live. Oh and we have to deal with the ridiculousness of crossing the border. We felt the love entering Canada. But entering the US was another story. There was an hour wait to get across!
I feel guilty whenever we go on a weekend excursion without the Child. I mean, I rarely see him during the week because of commuting, school and study time. The weekend is our only time to hang out as a family. So when we dump him somewhere and go do our own thing, I feel like a horrible parent.
PLUS, I totally miss him! During the trip, my husband and I kept making comments like, "Jacob would like this" or "This week it was so cute when Jacob did this." And then there is the amazing divide between us and our friends. We are parents and everyone else just has dogs. When friends ask how Jacob is doing, I always wonder how much they really want me to go on about his fourth tooth or his latest arsenal of new words. I'm so self conscious about how much I should talk about him. I don't want to be the annoying friend who ONLY talks about her kid.
It's funny how similar chats about pets and children can be.
"My puppy is crazy sometimes. He keeps us up at night and chews all our furniture."
"Yeah, our kid does that."
"He always begs and gets under my feet all the time."
"That sounds like our baby."
"I can't leave him alone for a second- he'll destroy our house."
"Gee, I know how THAT feels!"
"I can't wait to get that dog house broken."
"We're counting the days until Jacob is potty trained."
"At least I can just put him in his kennel and throw him some dog treats when he's out of control."
"Thank goodness for the kennel and the dog treats!"
Then our friends whip out their digital camera full of pictures of their dogs doing nothing and I feel better. You can't be too annoying when you don't even keep pictures of your son in your wallet.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
You Will NOT Find Me At The Mall Today
Maybe I'm just disgusted by my law school debt but this year I am SO anti-commercial. Black friday totally disgusts me. Just thinking of the selfish shoppers, the long-ass lines, and the rush to "buy, buy buy." Yuk. Really? This is what our society looks forward to and celebrates on the holdiays? GROSS!
Is there really anything I need so much that I am going to get up at 3am and wait in lines outside the shopping centers? Seriously, what can you want THAT badly. I'll admit. I like getting new things. Wearing new clothes for the first time, opening a package of something I ordered in the mail- no bigger thrill. But I guess I've just been spending too much on me this year and I'm now experiencing an internal backlash from all the boots I bought (yes, I DID need three pairs, thankyouverymuch!).
I'm not against the concept of shopping. Actually, I used to have a lot of fun shopping with my family in preparation for Christmas. But it's the fact that shopping has become the FOCUS of our holidays, that disgusts me. Sure, there's the turkey, but oh THE SHOPPING! THE DEALS! Really, why do we even do gifts? YOu don't have to give gifts to be generous or to show someone how you feel about them. Nowadays, it seems like time is a more valuable commodity than money. We never have enough time. Wouldn't it be better to spend TIME with the people we care about rather than MONEY? To actually go visit and have a chat with Aunt Marmalade rather than send her some dish towels in the mail?
I'm not against spending money, or shopping or presents-I actually love all three. I like capitalism. But I just feel so disgusted by the excess. The commercialism. The general focus on shopping. The need to buy another, better bigger screen TV because, for heaven's sake, living with JUST a 36 incher is akin to living in poverty! I don't mean to be a bah-humbug. It's just lately I've been wanting to get back to the basics of enjoying the holidays. Wanting more than what I can just buy at the mall. Looking for a little something more.
Is there really anything I need so much that I am going to get up at 3am and wait in lines outside the shopping centers? Seriously, what can you want THAT badly. I'll admit. I like getting new things. Wearing new clothes for the first time, opening a package of something I ordered in the mail- no bigger thrill. But I guess I've just been spending too much on me this year and I'm now experiencing an internal backlash from all the boots I bought (yes, I DID need three pairs, thankyouverymuch!).
I'm not against the concept of shopping. Actually, I used to have a lot of fun shopping with my family in preparation for Christmas. But it's the fact that shopping has become the FOCUS of our holidays, that disgusts me. Sure, there's the turkey, but oh THE SHOPPING! THE DEALS! Really, why do we even do gifts? YOu don't have to give gifts to be generous or to show someone how you feel about them. Nowadays, it seems like time is a more valuable commodity than money. We never have enough time. Wouldn't it be better to spend TIME with the people we care about rather than MONEY? To actually go visit and have a chat with Aunt Marmalade rather than send her some dish towels in the mail?
I'm not against spending money, or shopping or presents-I actually love all three. I like capitalism. But I just feel so disgusted by the excess. The commercialism. The general focus on shopping. The need to buy another, better bigger screen TV because, for heaven's sake, living with JUST a 36 incher is akin to living in poverty! I don't mean to be a bah-humbug. It's just lately I've been wanting to get back to the basics of enjoying the holidays. Wanting more than what I can just buy at the mall. Looking for a little something more.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Court, Or Bust!
First of all, court went GREAT! During our 2L year we had to give an oral argument on our appellate briefs. That was my first experience with oral arguments and I was a wreck. I was nervous all semester. We had to give the argument in a classroom at the school and the judge was another professor and I thought I would die. And I was so nervous, I pronounced my last name wrong during introductions.
For some reason I wasn't nervous abou this oral argument at all. This time we actually had to go down to the superior court and argue in front of a REAL superior court judge. I waltzed my way through the day- putting my argument outline together last minute. Enjoying an extra long lunchbreak. on the bus ride to the court house, instead of anxiously reciting my argument to myself, I popped in my headphones and got lost in Billy Currington. I was so freakishly calm, which I though might have been to my detriment- aren't we supposed to get nervous for a reason? Aren't we supposed to scare ourselved into being better prepared? Oh well.
The thing is, this summer I got to go to a hearing on a motion for attorneys fees. I wrote the repsonse and the associate invited me to tag along to hear him reciting my arguments. The associate was so "cool" about going to court. He was even working on another case up until the time he had to leave for court. To him, it was no big deal. He went to court many, many times. I think watching him and tagging along made me realize- court isn't scary. The merits of our argument will go up against the merits of the other side and may the best party win.
So back to the other day, sitting in the marble hallway outside the courtroom, my nerves finally started to impersonate mexican jumping beans. I felt the way I used to feel before a big cross country race. Adrenaline shot through my body. But I just forced myself to relax and convined myself that I knew my shit- even if that wasn't true.
I was the moving party so, lucky me, I got to go first. I just went through the arguments like I had practiced. It is important to start out strong and to end strong. You have to tell the judge right away what relief you want. (Don't forget to reserve rebuttal time!) And the last words out of your mouth should be a statement of the relief requested.
The judge only asked me one question. I wanted him to ask me more so I wouldn't have to give a monologue argument about why I should win. But maybe it was better this way. I have no idea what I said in response. I kind of blacked out and my inner lawyer demon possessed me and put words in my mouth. But I must have done ok because I got props from my professor, who was acting as bailiff. I wish I knew what I said. The 9 minutes went by in a blur. This left me only 1 minute for rebuttal when I had originally wanted 2 minutes. You can imagine how fast I talked during my 1 minute rebuttal.
All in all, the professor said that we both did really well. Apparently I need to work on speaking more slowly (hello! how can you do that when you only have 10 minutes to argue a fact specific case?!) and make better eye contact with the judge. But I survived! One final exam down, three to go!
Who would have thought, shy widdle me thinks court is fun! I can't believe how far I've come since my 1L year, or even my 2L year. It's amazing how much you learn and change during lawschool. Let this be hope to all those 1L who think they won't make it and will never seem like a lawyer- if it can happen to me, it CAN happen to you!
For some reason I wasn't nervous abou this oral argument at all. This time we actually had to go down to the superior court and argue in front of a REAL superior court judge. I waltzed my way through the day- putting my argument outline together last minute. Enjoying an extra long lunchbreak. on the bus ride to the court house, instead of anxiously reciting my argument to myself, I popped in my headphones and got lost in Billy Currington. I was so freakishly calm, which I though might have been to my detriment- aren't we supposed to get nervous for a reason? Aren't we supposed to scare ourselved into being better prepared? Oh well.
The thing is, this summer I got to go to a hearing on a motion for attorneys fees. I wrote the repsonse and the associate invited me to tag along to hear him reciting my arguments. The associate was so "cool" about going to court. He was even working on another case up until the time he had to leave for court. To him, it was no big deal. He went to court many, many times. I think watching him and tagging along made me realize- court isn't scary. The merits of our argument will go up against the merits of the other side and may the best party win.
So back to the other day, sitting in the marble hallway outside the courtroom, my nerves finally started to impersonate mexican jumping beans. I felt the way I used to feel before a big cross country race. Adrenaline shot through my body. But I just forced myself to relax and convined myself that I knew my shit- even if that wasn't true.
I was the moving party so, lucky me, I got to go first. I just went through the arguments like I had practiced. It is important to start out strong and to end strong. You have to tell the judge right away what relief you want. (Don't forget to reserve rebuttal time!) And the last words out of your mouth should be a statement of the relief requested.
The judge only asked me one question. I wanted him to ask me more so I wouldn't have to give a monologue argument about why I should win. But maybe it was better this way. I have no idea what I said in response. I kind of blacked out and my inner lawyer demon possessed me and put words in my mouth. But I must have done ok because I got props from my professor, who was acting as bailiff. I wish I knew what I said. The 9 minutes went by in a blur. This left me only 1 minute for rebuttal when I had originally wanted 2 minutes. You can imagine how fast I talked during my 1 minute rebuttal.
All in all, the professor said that we both did really well. Apparently I need to work on speaking more slowly (hello! how can you do that when you only have 10 minutes to argue a fact specific case?!) and make better eye contact with the judge. But I survived! One final exam down, three to go!
Who would have thought, shy widdle me thinks court is fun! I can't believe how far I've come since my 1L year, or even my 2L year. It's amazing how much you learn and change during lawschool. Let this be hope to all those 1L who think they won't make it and will never seem like a lawyer- if it can happen to me, it CAN happen to you!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Blame It On The Rain
I'm off to Superior Court today to argue a fake motion for a pretend case for my Pre-Trial Advocacy class. The scary part is the judge, the court room and the grades are real.
Why can't we wear jeans to court? It would make my life so much easier and HELLO why isn't the entire justice system focused on making my life easier.
I have a feeling going to court in Seattle is a little trickier than going to court in other hoods, ahem, I mean geographical locations. I generally love Seattle. And I generally love rain. BUT going to court in Seattle is just no fun. Even if the prediction is clear skies, you STILL have to prepare for the likely probability that it will rain. Because, get real. It's Seattle. Rainy season is September to July.
Why is rain so horrible? Rain = messed up hair, drenched suit, soaking wet breif case and motion papers.
So, not only do I have to lug around a huge umbrella. I have to bring a raincoat. Extra shoes- suited for walking in the rain. Money for the bus so I DON'T have to walk in the rain. And my hair straightener to remedy the fuzz of a humid-infested environment. Do you even know how un-hot your hair is when it is half dry and half wet?
Oh yeah, I have to prepare the SUBSTANCE of my argument as well. Almost forgot about that.
P.S.- If I have to dress up to go to court, why can't I at least wear a fun accessory like a tie? It's not fair- why don't girls get to wear ties? I'd wear one with flames.
Why can't we wear jeans to court? It would make my life so much easier and HELLO why isn't the entire justice system focused on making my life easier.
I have a feeling going to court in Seattle is a little trickier than going to court in other hoods, ahem, I mean geographical locations. I generally love Seattle. And I generally love rain. BUT going to court in Seattle is just no fun. Even if the prediction is clear skies, you STILL have to prepare for the likely probability that it will rain. Because, get real. It's Seattle. Rainy season is September to July.
Why is rain so horrible? Rain = messed up hair, drenched suit, soaking wet breif case and motion papers.
So, not only do I have to lug around a huge umbrella. I have to bring a raincoat. Extra shoes- suited for walking in the rain. Money for the bus so I DON'T have to walk in the rain. And my hair straightener to remedy the fuzz of a humid-infested environment. Do you even know how un-hot your hair is when it is half dry and half wet?
Oh yeah, I have to prepare the SUBSTANCE of my argument as well. Almost forgot about that.
P.S.- If I have to dress up to go to court, why can't I at least wear a fun accessory like a tie? It's not fair- why don't girls get to wear ties? I'd wear one with flames.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Professor [Sexual Fantasy] Evaluations
Please evaluate your sexual fanatsies about this instructor by answering "Excellent", "Good," "Satisfactory," "Fair," or "Poor" to the following questions:
In your fantasies:
1. Does the instructor speak clearly and understandably [in bed]?
Excellent. [His point ALWAYS comes across...if you know what I mean.]
2. Is the professor well prepared and organized [in bed]?
Excellent. [Always has a game plan and always scores the winning point.]
3. Does the instructor incorporate new and current materialto the subject?
Satisfactory. [Good use of "material," especially the vibrating variety.]
4. Does the instructor appear to have an adequate graspof the subject?
Excellent. [No further comment necessary.]
5. Does the instructor covercourse material [your body] in adequate depth?
Excellent. [Where no man has gone before!]
6. Does he stimulatethought [you]?
Excellent. [I'm stimulated speechless!]
7. Does the instructor makethe subject [it] interesting?
Excellent. [If your definition of interesting involves office hours, strategic placement of casebooks, and spectacles.]
8. Does he make good use of examples and hypotheticals?
Excellent. [You know what they say, "Don't fight thehypo desire."]
What suggestions would you make to this instructor?
MARRY ME!
In your fantasies:
1. Does the instructor speak clearly and understandably [in bed]?
Excellent. [His point ALWAYS comes across...if you know what I mean.]
2. Is the professor well prepared and organized [in bed]?
Excellent. [Always has a game plan and always scores the winning point.]
3. Does the instructor incorporate new and current material
Satisfactory. [Good use of "material," especially the vibrating variety.]
4. Does the instructor appear to have an adequate grasp
Excellent. [No further comment necessary.]
5. Does the instructor cover
Excellent. [Where no man has gone before!]
6. Does he stimulate
Excellent. [I'm stimulated speechless!]
7. Does the instructor make
Excellent. [If your definition of interesting involves office hours, strategic placement of casebooks, and spectacles.]
8. Does he make good use of examples and hypotheticals?
Excellent. [You know what they say, "Don't fight the
What suggestions would you make to this instructor?
MARRY ME!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Horsing Around
I'm doing a ton of things lately. My weekly schedules are jammed packed! And somehow studying does not make my list of weekly activities. Oh well. If law school was a road, I would be a car that has spun out into the ditch. Smoking engine, blown out tires AND unconscious driver- the whole thing. But I'd be a HAPPY unconscious driver. Because instead of freaking out about finals and being a responsible student, I am doing things that make me happy!
Like riding horses. Exhibit A:
This is Jackson, the beautiful horse that I get to ride once a week (soon to be twice a week!). I LOVE riding. It takes so much focus, coordination and communication (with the horse of course) that I can pretty much escape the rest of my life. I thought riding would be 100% thrill. Like boating or going on a carnival ride. I thought I could just hop onto a saddle and ride away into the sunset. But actually, it's really challenging and takes a lot of skill and patience. Some days it's 70% frustration and 30% whatever else. But it's ALWAYS fun. Basically it's what gets me through the week, knowing I have a lesson at the end of it.
I was never one of those "horse" people. You know, the kids who wore screen print horse sweatshirts to school. The ones who collected My Little Ponies and watched Black Beauty a million times. In fact, I was never much of an animal person. I always prefered playing with babies to animals. But now I have a new appreciation and admiration for horses. They really are amazing animals. I can't believe how strong they are. And so stubborn. But I think that's why we get along, I have an affinity for stubborn things and I have a stubborn streak myself.
Damn it. I have to take back what I said about not being one of those "horse" people. I just remembered that, this afternoon, I ordered a sweatshirt from the stables. It has a screen print picture of a horse on the back AND my name on the front. Shhh, don't tell anyone...
P.S. The best part about riding is that I have an excuse to wear my cowboy boots in public. Then I like to make a trip to the grocery store on my way home and leave a trail of dried horse poo behind me. When people make a comment about my boots I get to say, "Oh, I just came back from the stables."
Like riding horses. Exhibit A:
This is Jackson, the beautiful horse that I get to ride once a week (soon to be twice a week!). I LOVE riding. It takes so much focus, coordination and communication (with the horse of course) that I can pretty much escape the rest of my life. I thought riding would be 100% thrill. Like boating or going on a carnival ride. I thought I could just hop onto a saddle and ride away into the sunset. But actually, it's really challenging and takes a lot of skill and patience. Some days it's 70% frustration and 30% whatever else. But it's ALWAYS fun. Basically it's what gets me through the week, knowing I have a lesson at the end of it.
I was never one of those "horse" people. You know, the kids who wore screen print horse sweatshirts to school. The ones who collected My Little Ponies and watched Black Beauty a million times. In fact, I was never much of an animal person. I always prefered playing with babies to animals. But now I have a new appreciation and admiration for horses. They really are amazing animals. I can't believe how strong they are. And so stubborn. But I think that's why we get along, I have an affinity for stubborn things and I have a stubborn streak myself.
Damn it. I have to take back what I said about not being one of those "horse" people. I just remembered that, this afternoon, I ordered a sweatshirt from the stables. It has a screen print picture of a horse on the back AND my name on the front. Shhh, don't tell anyone...
P.S. The best part about riding is that I have an excuse to wear my cowboy boots in public. Then I like to make a trip to the grocery store on my way home and leave a trail of dried horse poo behind me. When people make a comment about my boots I get to say, "Oh, I just came back from the stables."
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Cost Of Legal Education
I met with a lawschool financial aid advisor the other day. She gave me the grand total price tag for my legal education. Are you ready for this? You should sit down. Really. My total debt for law school is $119,000.00. And I think I might be on the lower end of the scale because I only paid for one year of rent rather than three (thank you husband for paying the mortgage). AND I don't have any undergraduate debt- thanks to scholarships and the Bank of Dad.
It totally amazes me how much it costs to attend law school. I think education is the greatest equalizer when it comes to socio-economic issues. But how can it be an effective equalizer if only the rich can afford it? Sure, there are a bunch of great public schools. But because of our tax-financed public school system, the good public schools are in the rich neighborhoods. And public colleges aren't even affordable anymore.
Anyway, in addition to owing 120K to financial institutions for my legal education. I now owe Barbri (the bar exam prep people) my soul. Talk about life kicking you when you are down. I just signed away a huge chunk of my paycheck for the next 20 years to pay back my tuition loans and now They want to send me through the ringer one more time. It's like "Are you SURE you don't have some assets or trust fund money stashed away somewhere? Come on now- GIVE IT UP! How about pennies under your bed. I'll settle for your lunch money." The bar exam itself is about $600. Then you have to fork over enough to cover hotel and meal expenses for three days during the bar. But the bar exam prep course is what kills me. The month long course costs $2,700! Plus $500 extra to take advantage of the mobile option (I'm not commuting 5+ hours a day, five days a week to actually SIT IN on the course).
My whole financial outlook is bleak right now. And all of this just to be qualified for a job in which I will be earning less than my engineer brother with an undergrad education? Ridiculous. To make this bleakness a little darker, let's consider all the things I could have bought INSTEAD of my legal education:
It totally amazes me how much it costs to attend law school. I think education is the greatest equalizer when it comes to socio-economic issues. But how can it be an effective equalizer if only the rich can afford it? Sure, there are a bunch of great public schools. But because of our tax-financed public school system, the good public schools are in the rich neighborhoods. And public colleges aren't even affordable anymore.
Anyway, in addition to owing 120K to financial institutions for my legal education. I now owe Barbri (the bar exam prep people) my soul. Talk about life kicking you when you are down. I just signed away a huge chunk of my paycheck for the next 20 years to pay back my tuition loans and now They want to send me through the ringer one more time. It's like "Are you SURE you don't have some assets or trust fund money stashed away somewhere? Come on now- GIVE IT UP! How about pennies under your bed. I'll settle for your lunch money." The bar exam itself is about $600. Then you have to fork over enough to cover hotel and meal expenses for three days during the bar. But the bar exam prep course is what kills me. The month long course costs $2,700! Plus $500 extra to take advantage of the mobile option (I'm not commuting 5+ hours a day, five days a week to actually SIT IN on the course).
My whole financial outlook is bleak right now. And all of this just to be qualified for a job in which I will be earning less than my engineer brother with an undergrad education? Ridiculous. To make this bleakness a little darker, let's consider all the things I could have bought INSTEAD of my legal education:
- Boob jobs for twelve people
- One Diet Dr. Pepper every day for the next 329 years
- A cozy four bedroom home in Gorst, Washington (with 20K to spare!)
- Two Hummer H2 SUVs
- 9,230 trips up the Space Needle
- Half of a fast food restaurant franchise
- 1/10th of a head of Brittany Spear's hair
- The adoption of 3-12 children
- A necklace once owned by Elvis Presley (sold on juliensauctions.com)
- Clothing and accessories for Sara Palin during the campaign
- 30 average sized engagement rings (about $4000 each)
- I could charter a five room luxury yacht for a week
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Cooking Up A Storm
Literally.
I went on a cooking binge this week. I'm pretty much exhausted from measuring, kneading, checking the doneness of meats and WASHING dishes! I swear I used every single one of our dishes at least three times. The best part is that the refrigerator is overflowing with leftovers.
At times, it really did seem like a storm in our kitchen. I think the smoke alarm went of six times this week. But to my credit, the oven is really dirty and smokes easily. Wait- how is that to my credit?
I love to cook. There is just something about having a finished product at the end of all your work. Very unlike reading casebooks, studying or attending class. And the results taste much better too. I got really tired of thumbing through my million cookbooks and trying to remember old recipe websites to find my favorite recipes. So I bought a really nice journal at the local bookstore and I have been transcribing all my favorite, no-fail recipes into ONE BOOK. It's totally awesome. I LOVE my recipe book. I even have false hopes that my kids will pick it up after I'm long gone, make my old recipes and fondly rememberme...ha ha ha- ok, back to reality.
This week I made the following:
Potato Pierogies
Spatzle- German dumplings with ham and Sauerkraut (my great grandma's recipe!)
Homemade pizza bagels- from scratch!
Country fried steak with biscuits and sausage gravy (all from scratch)
Tandoori chicken (a recipe from my Indian friend- but still not as good as hers)
Pecan Pie (times two!)
Teriyaki chicken with homemade sauce
Chicken Sio Pao (phillipino dumplings - like the round chinese dumplings)
Wow, I'm exhausted just thinking about it all. This is going to be one yummy week of leftovers. If I would have just spent a fraction of the time that I spent cooking on doing my law school homework, I could have been ready for tomorrow's 8am class. Sigh.
**Updated to include recipe links!
I went on a cooking binge this week. I'm pretty much exhausted from measuring, kneading, checking the doneness of meats and WASHING dishes! I swear I used every single one of our dishes at least three times. The best part is that the refrigerator is overflowing with leftovers.
At times, it really did seem like a storm in our kitchen. I think the smoke alarm went of six times this week. But to my credit, the oven is really dirty and smokes easily. Wait- how is that to my credit?
I love to cook. There is just something about having a finished product at the end of all your work. Very unlike reading casebooks, studying or attending class. And the results taste much better too. I got really tired of thumbing through my million cookbooks and trying to remember old recipe websites to find my favorite recipes. So I bought a really nice journal at the local bookstore and I have been transcribing all my favorite, no-fail recipes into ONE BOOK. It's totally awesome. I LOVE my recipe book. I even have false hopes that my kids will pick it up after I'm long gone, make my old recipes and fondly rememberme...ha ha ha- ok, back to reality.
This week I made the following:
Potato Pierogies
Spatzle- German dumplings with ham and Sauerkraut (my great grandma's recipe!)
Homemade pizza bagels- from scratch!
Country fried steak with biscuits and sausage gravy (all from scratch)
Tandoori chicken (a recipe from my Indian friend- but still not as good as hers)
Pecan Pie (times two!)
Teriyaki chicken with homemade sauce
Chicken Sio Pao (phillipino dumplings - like the round chinese dumplings)
Wow, I'm exhausted just thinking about it all. This is going to be one yummy week of leftovers. If I would have just spent a fraction of the time that I spent cooking on doing my law school homework, I could have been ready for tomorrow's 8am class. Sigh.
**Updated to include recipe links!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Not Likely To Become A Doctor
That's how I would describe my son after our failed anatomy lesson yesterday.
Well, if the only job he will qualify for is Burger King Burger Flipper, maybe I get free fries for life?!
Well, if the only job he will qualify for is Burger King Burger Flipper, maybe I get free fries for life?!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Re-Convert
You know how when you ask people what kind of music they listen to many will say, "Anything but country....oh and rap."
As a die hard country music fan, this totally pisses me off. Ok, so country is just not your thAng, I get it- that's fine. But REALLY? You like every other category in the repertoire of worldly music EXCEPT country? How much more of an insult can you give to a down-hown, line-dancing, wanna-be country gal? It's borderline ridiculous!
I mean seriously? You'd prefer to listen to hours of ear splitting mountain yodeling than country music? You would choose whinny teenage emo music over a couple bars of an acoustic accompanied by a fiddle and some lyrics about pick-ups and bud light? How about hokey polky acccordian music in another language? You'd rather listen to THAT too? Well, at least you disclaimed a distate for rap as well, but notice how it is almost an afterthought as if country music where the ultimate in horribleness.
Am I missing somethere here? Is country music THAT horrible? I mean it's a brother to Rock and Blues. And excuse me, but ELVIS PRESLEY was consideres a country music artist as well. I admit a lot of country is "redneck," but that's because country singers know how to HAVE fun and MAKE fun of themselves. Example lyrics:
"She thinks my tractor's sexy."
"I can hotwire your tractor and plow up your land."
"I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor."
"If you gonna learn to farm you gotta learn to drive a truck"
"We all gotta hillbilly bone deep inside."
"I was sittin' there sellin' turnips on a flatbed truck."
Maybe it's genetic. You are born to like country or not. Maybe I just like it because it brings back memories of riding my bike in my garage as my dad worked on his boat and blasted the local country station. Maybe it just speaks to where I am in life right now. Or maybe I'm just a country girl trapped in the city. Oh, and there IS something beautiful about an accoustic or steel guitar that can't be replicated by a synthesizer.
In highschool I claimed that I hated country along with all of my friends. I think I even believed that myself for a while. From highschool to the age of 25, I refused to listen to it because of it's reputation as being "uncool" and "hick." But then, one day, my mom drove my car and left the radio station blaring. I decided to leave it on that channel for my entire 45 minutes drive home. By the time I got home I was singing along to my old favorites and loving some of the new stuff. I could hide no longer- country found me again and it stuck.
If you just don't like country, I respect that. I'm not trying to convert you. I just want people to respect country as a legitimate expression of the values and experiences of people from all across the country. And not just unsophisticated, toothless people, either. Sure it can be as loud an obnoxious as a dirty pickup with monster wheels. It can be as sexy as a shirtless rodeo bronc in boots and a dirty cowbow hat. But it can also be as sweet, romantic and breathtaking as an endless field of wheat and rolling hills.
And if you STILL refuse to respect country, you can take my shit kickers (aka:boots) up your @$$, you dimwitted gooseberry.
As a die hard country music fan, this totally pisses me off. Ok, so country is just not your thAng, I get it- that's fine. But REALLY? You like every other category in the repertoire of worldly music EXCEPT country? How much more of an insult can you give to a down-hown, line-dancing, wanna-be country gal? It's borderline ridiculous!
I mean seriously? You'd prefer to listen to hours of ear splitting mountain yodeling than country music? You would choose whinny teenage emo music over a couple bars of an acoustic accompanied by a fiddle and some lyrics about pick-ups and bud light? How about hokey polky acccordian music in another language? You'd rather listen to THAT too? Well, at least you disclaimed a distate for rap as well, but notice how it is almost an afterthought as if country music where the ultimate in horribleness.
Am I missing somethere here? Is country music THAT horrible? I mean it's a brother to Rock and Blues. And excuse me, but ELVIS PRESLEY was consideres a country music artist as well. I admit a lot of country is "redneck," but that's because country singers know how to HAVE fun and MAKE fun of themselves. Example lyrics:
"She thinks my tractor's sexy."
"I can hotwire your tractor and plow up your land."
"I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor."
"If you gonna learn to farm you gotta learn to drive a truck"
"We all gotta hillbilly bone deep inside."
"I was sittin' there sellin' turnips on a flatbed truck."
Maybe it's genetic. You are born to like country or not. Maybe I just like it because it brings back memories of riding my bike in my garage as my dad worked on his boat and blasted the local country station. Maybe it just speaks to where I am in life right now. Or maybe I'm just a country girl trapped in the city. Oh, and there IS something beautiful about an accoustic or steel guitar that can't be replicated by a synthesizer.
In highschool I claimed that I hated country along with all of my friends. I think I even believed that myself for a while. From highschool to the age of 25, I refused to listen to it because of it's reputation as being "uncool" and "hick." But then, one day, my mom drove my car and left the radio station blaring. I decided to leave it on that channel for my entire 45 minutes drive home. By the time I got home I was singing along to my old favorites and loving some of the new stuff. I could hide no longer- country found me again and it stuck.
If you just don't like country, I respect that. I'm not trying to convert you. I just want people to respect country as a legitimate expression of the values and experiences of people from all across the country. And not just unsophisticated, toothless people, either. Sure it can be as loud an obnoxious as a dirty pickup with monster wheels. It can be as sexy as a shirtless rodeo bronc in boots and a dirty cowbow hat. But it can also be as sweet, romantic and breathtaking as an endless field of wheat and rolling hills.
And if you STILL refuse to respect country, you can take my shit kickers (aka:boots) up your @$$, you dimwitted gooseberry.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Practice Deposition Makes Perfect
I think I mentioned before how I have become a major slacker this semester. Seriously though, if law school was Candy Land, I would be Gloppy the Molasses Monster, just sitting on my butt in the back of the classroom covered in thick, sticky molasses. And...that made no sense. I am very sorry.
In my "trial" class we all had to sign up to conduct pretend depositions in the pretend case we've been working on all semester. Well, somehow, I managed to forget the day of my deposition until that very day. I looked up at the syllabus and realized, "crap, I'm deposing a witness in three hours!" So I quickly skimmed the chapter on depositions, prepared my opening- you know all those necessary intro questions such as "have you ever been deposed before" and all the instructions like "please answer the question even if your attorney objects- unless he tells you not to answer the question." One hour before class, I was totally ready. I knew all the things I would try to get out of the witness. I was ready to rock it!
When class started, I came to the front of the room for the exercise. Halfway through my intro, I realized I needed to have the court reporter (a random student who sits at the deposition desk and pretends to type in his lap- pretty funny!) administer the oath. So we do the oath and then I have to start ALL OVER.
Then I told the witness that she can only give VERBAL answers to my questions since non-verbal answers cannot be recorded by the court reporter. I asked if she understood. She replied by nodding her head. I was so awesomely nervous that I didn't even catch this until my professor pointed it out at the end of the dep. Yay for me!
We started to go into the details of what she witnessed the night in question. The witness (another student playing the part) was 78 years old. She was deaf, confused, and she didn't remember anything. This made for a pleasant experience.
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor that night?'
"What does demeanor mean?"
"How he acted."
"Oh"
"I'll rephrase my question for you. Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted that night?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted the night of the shooting?"
"Oh, wait. What man are we talking about again?"
"The man that you saw enter the bar."
"Who did I see enter the bar?"
"That is what I am trying to find out. You told me just a minute ago that you saw a man enter the bar on the night of the shooting."
"Oh yes. I did. But I don't remember."
"You don't remember that you saw a man or you don't remember how he acted that night."
"I remember that I remembered seeing a man. But now I can't remember him."
-HUH?!-
"Are you currently taking any medication?"
"No."
"Have you consumed any alcohol in the past 24 hours that might affect your testimony today?"
"Oh honey, I don't drink alcohol. It gives me gas."
How do real attorneys 1) prevent themselves from punching the lights out of really frustrating witnesses, even when they ARE 78 years old and 2) keep a straight face when a witness discusses her flatulence problems?
In my "trial" class we all had to sign up to conduct pretend depositions in the pretend case we've been working on all semester. Well, somehow, I managed to forget the day of my deposition until that very day. I looked up at the syllabus and realized, "crap, I'm deposing a witness in three hours!" So I quickly skimmed the chapter on depositions, prepared my opening- you know all those necessary intro questions such as "have you ever been deposed before" and all the instructions like "please answer the question even if your attorney objects- unless he tells you not to answer the question." One hour before class, I was totally ready. I knew all the things I would try to get out of the witness. I was ready to rock it!
When class started, I came to the front of the room for the exercise. Halfway through my intro, I realized I needed to have the court reporter (a random student who sits at the deposition desk and pretends to type in his lap- pretty funny!) administer the oath. So we do the oath and then I have to start ALL OVER.
Then I told the witness that she can only give VERBAL answers to my questions since non-verbal answers cannot be recorded by the court reporter. I asked if she understood. She replied by nodding her head. I was so awesomely nervous that I didn't even catch this until my professor pointed it out at the end of the dep. Yay for me!
We started to go into the details of what she witnessed the night in question. The witness (another student playing the part) was 78 years old. She was deaf, confused, and she didn't remember anything. This made for a pleasant experience.
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor that night?'
"What does demeanor mean?"
"How he acted."
"Oh"
"I'll rephrase my question for you. Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted that night?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted the night of the shooting?"
"Oh, wait. What man are we talking about again?"
"The man that you saw enter the bar."
"Who did I see enter the bar?"
"That is what I am trying to find out. You told me just a minute ago that you saw a man enter the bar on the night of the shooting."
"Oh yes. I did. But I don't remember."
"You don't remember that you saw a man or you don't remember how he acted that night."
"I remember that I remembered seeing a man. But now I can't remember him."
-HUH?!-
"Are you currently taking any medication?"
"No."
"Have you consumed any alcohol in the past 24 hours that might affect your testimony today?"
"Oh honey, I don't drink alcohol. It gives me gas."
How do real attorneys 1) prevent themselves from punching the lights out of really frustrating witnesses, even when they ARE 78 years old and 2) keep a straight face when a witness discusses her flatulence problems?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sex & Marriage For Dummies: Don't Read Romance Novels
I'm gonna go to a dangerous place here.
First off, I am a horrible person. I read romance novels. They aren't all that subtle either. I've got a problem. I'm addicted to reading about how the strong, sexy guy gets the girl and then pleases her beyond all bounds of reality. To be honest, I actually just like reading about The Chase and imagining the witty dialogue taking place. When the author actually goes into the DEED- I get a little embarrased and start skimming as if the people AROUND me can hear what I'm reading. Weird huh?
But all these romance novels have gone to my head. Now I have a slew of unreal expectations about how MY romance life should be like. For example, husbands will always tell wives how they feel. They will pour out their soul at a deeply feminine and emotional level when the need arises.
They will always make you feel sexy and loved and wanted. Oh and the obvious, husbands will always want to have sex. They will crave your body more than their favorite internet car message boards. More than sleep. Even more than nachos!
And sex will be often and spontaneous and romantic and HE will make the first move (think rain sex, in a woman's dressing room sex, on the kitchen table right in the pecan pie sex). He will always start by kissing you wildly before he explores every inch of your body -because, although he's seen it a million times (even during those times when there was a baby coming out of you), he is just as mesmorized by your every sexy cellular membrane as he is by watching the the final pass of a tied super bowl game (they do have passes in football, right?).
Let's not forget the obvious (and the most disgusting myth from the romance novel genre)- you will be PLEASED each time. Sometime you will be PLEASED multiple times in one serving, if you catch my drift. Romance writers- STOP feeding me unrealistic bullsh*t!!
When I'm separated from my husband during the day, I often rumninate over what will happen when the baby goes to bed. Of course it's steamy and piping hot. Then I focus on that all day. I look forward to things playing out the way I pictured them- steamy and hot and....EXISTENT. Then I come home and life happens. Husband wants to play on the internet or is tired or has work to do. I put on something sexy- trying my darndest to catch his eye. Not even a glance. Are these panties defective? Can I return them?
I lay in bed thinking about my failed day time fantasy. I'm a little let down and have lost all faith in the reality of romance. I think, hey, it's NOT me. It's these dang romance novels. They teach us to have high and unrealistic expectations of the male sex. It's not fair to us and it's not fair to the men.
I am two lessons wiser now:
1. Don't try to be sexy. Guys don't care what you do or don't wear. As long as you have the parts, they will take a drink when they get thirsty (that's pretty much what sex is you know, the meeting of physical needs- just about as romantic as taking a drink or a poop.)
2. Don't have any expectations. None at all.
Girls, that's all you need to know about sex and marriage.
First off, I am a horrible person. I read romance novels. They aren't all that subtle either. I've got a problem. I'm addicted to reading about how the strong, sexy guy gets the girl and then pleases her beyond all bounds of reality. To be honest, I actually just like reading about The Chase and imagining the witty dialogue taking place. When the author actually goes into the DEED- I get a little embarrased and start skimming as if the people AROUND me can hear what I'm reading. Weird huh?
But all these romance novels have gone to my head. Now I have a slew of unreal expectations about how MY romance life should be like. For example, husbands will always tell wives how they feel. They will pour out their soul at a deeply feminine and emotional level when the need arises.
They will always make you feel sexy and loved and wanted. Oh and the obvious, husbands will always want to have sex. They will crave your body more than their favorite internet car message boards. More than sleep. Even more than nachos!
And sex will be often and spontaneous and romantic and HE will make the first move (think rain sex, in a woman's dressing room sex, on the kitchen table right in the pecan pie sex). He will always start by kissing you wildly before he explores every inch of your body -because, although he's seen it a million times (even during those times when there was a baby coming out of you), he is just as mesmorized by your every sexy cellular membrane as he is by watching the the final pass of a tied super bowl game (they do have passes in football, right?).
Let's not forget the obvious (and the most disgusting myth from the romance novel genre)- you will be PLEASED each time. Sometime you will be PLEASED multiple times in one serving, if you catch my drift. Romance writers- STOP feeding me unrealistic bullsh*t!!
When I'm separated from my husband during the day, I often rumninate over what will happen when the baby goes to bed. Of course it's steamy and piping hot. Then I focus on that all day. I look forward to things playing out the way I pictured them- steamy and hot and....EXISTENT. Then I come home and life happens. Husband wants to play on the internet or is tired or has work to do. I put on something sexy- trying my darndest to catch his eye. Not even a glance. Are these panties defective? Can I return them?
I lay in bed thinking about my failed day time fantasy. I'm a little let down and have lost all faith in the reality of romance. I think, hey, it's NOT me. It's these dang romance novels. They teach us to have high and unrealistic expectations of the male sex. It's not fair to us and it's not fair to the men.
I am two lessons wiser now:
1. Don't try to be sexy. Guys don't care what you do or don't wear. As long as you have the parts, they will take a drink when they get thirsty (that's pretty much what sex is you know, the meeting of physical needs- just about as romantic as taking a drink or a poop.)
2. Don't have any expectations. None at all.
Girls, that's all you need to know about sex and marriage.
What's The Text Equivalent Of A Bitch Slap?
I guess I should go easy on my friends without husbands or children. Maybe they just don't understand the demands of raising a family. Or maybe my so called "friends" are just complete bitches.
Friend and I made plans earlier in the week to go out to dinner. Since then my son has come down with the mini-swine flu. Fever, cough runny nose. When my baby is sick, the world may as well be falling apart because 1) he won't eat ANYTHING, 2) naps? fahgetaboutit, and 3) he has to be in his mommy's arms unless you consider glass-breaking baby wails to be among your most pleasant experiences. When baby is sick, Mommy is frustrated and helpless. Don't mess with the beasts!
So my friend texts me, "Are we still on for dinner?"
Me: "Jacob is sick has fever have to reschedule." (punctuation optional)
Friend: "Your husband can watch him. I'm really looking forward to dinner!"
Me [PISSED!!!]: "He is really fussy- he only wants me."
Friend: "He would not be at the restaurant so who cares if he cries."
Me [OMG- what's the equivalent of a text bitch slap?]: "Sorry, Jacob comes first."
Friend: "Fine. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do."
OMG. I'm befuddled. That's my final answer.
Friend and I made plans earlier in the week to go out to dinner. Since then my son has come down with the mini-swine flu. Fever, cough runny nose. When my baby is sick, the world may as well be falling apart because 1) he won't eat ANYTHING, 2) naps? fahgetaboutit, and 3) he has to be in his mommy's arms unless you consider glass-breaking baby wails to be among your most pleasant experiences. When baby is sick, Mommy is frustrated and helpless. Don't mess with the beasts!
So my friend texts me, "Are we still on for dinner?"
Me: "Jacob is sick has fever have to reschedule." (punctuation optional)
Friend: "Your husband can watch him. I'm really looking forward to dinner!"
Me [PISSED!!!]: "He is really fussy- he only wants me."
Friend: "He would not be at the restaurant so who cares if he cries."
Me [OMG- what's the equivalent of a text bitch slap?]: "Sorry, Jacob comes first."
Friend: "Fine. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do."
OMG. I'm befuddled. That's my final answer.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Eye Love You
I only have 6.5 class days left of law school for the REST OF MY LIFE! I'm a little in disbelief that the hell and horrors of it all will actually come to an end. It's kind of like when you were at the end of the third installment of Lord of the Rings. You invested hours and hours into watching the movie and, oh my god, there's actually an ending to the intricate plot line full of battles I don't care about, long haired men and creepy elvish talk?
After my final law school exam in the middle of December, the only thing standing in between me and actually being a card carrying lawyer (we actually get cards?! Sweet) is a pleasant 3 day bar exam covering 20+ areas of law...how lovely.
So, aside from being in constant disbelief that I may actually never be a student again, for the REST OF MY LIFE, I am also in a state of awkwardness. Allow me to explain. There is this law student in one of my classes who sits directly across from me. Some of our classes are arranged so that the students sit in a "u" shape around the professor's podium. In one of my classes, this guy sits on one end of the "u" and I sit on the other. When I look straight ahead, I unavoidably stare directly into his face. The problem is that I do this often. I don't mean to- his face is just right THERE. I have to try to NOT look directly at him throughout the class. The result is that we happen to make awkard eye contact ALL CLASS LONG. I look in his direction and he automatically meets my gaze. Then I shift mine away at the ungracefully not so speed of light. AWKWARD! It's like I'm face stalking him. Or our gazes are clashing in the air between us and having a wild make out session.
It's getting so weird that I'm starting to wonder if he thinks I have a major crush on him.
Well, this week I discovered that he is also in another one of my classes. How did I discover this? By accidentally face stalking him of course! In this class, I turn around in the middle of class to get something out of my bag. When I turn around, the guy directly behind me is absent and, low and behold, whose gaze do I lovingly meet? Yup. HIM. Then I realized that I didn't have a pen in my bag like I thought I did. So, I actually had no reason for turning around and catching his eye. To the trained or paranoid eye, it could appear that I turned around just to have another intense eye gazing session. Now I'm trying extra hard to NOT look at him and I bet it seems even MORE obvious.
Final thought. To all those people who like to ask questions 30 seconds before class ends: SHUT THE HELL UP! Turn off your inquisitive mind and start packing your bags like the rest of us for Pete's sake!
After my final law school exam in the middle of December, the only thing standing in between me and actually being a card carrying lawyer (we actually get cards?! Sweet) is a pleasant 3 day bar exam covering 20+ areas of law...how lovely.
So, aside from being in constant disbelief that I may actually never be a student again, for the REST OF MY LIFE, I am also in a state of awkwardness. Allow me to explain. There is this law student in one of my classes who sits directly across from me. Some of our classes are arranged so that the students sit in a "u" shape around the professor's podium. In one of my classes, this guy sits on one end of the "u" and I sit on the other. When I look straight ahead, I unavoidably stare directly into his face. The problem is that I do this often. I don't mean to- his face is just right THERE. I have to try to NOT look directly at him throughout the class. The result is that we happen to make awkard eye contact ALL CLASS LONG. I look in his direction and he automatically meets my gaze. Then I shift mine away at the ungracefully not so speed of light. AWKWARD! It's like I'm face stalking him. Or our gazes are clashing in the air between us and having a wild make out session.
It's getting so weird that I'm starting to wonder if he thinks I have a major crush on him.
Well, this week I discovered that he is also in another one of my classes. How did I discover this? By accidentally face stalking him of course! In this class, I turn around in the middle of class to get something out of my bag. When I turn around, the guy directly behind me is absent and, low and behold, whose gaze do I lovingly meet? Yup. HIM. Then I realized that I didn't have a pen in my bag like I thought I did. So, I actually had no reason for turning around and catching his eye. To the trained or paranoid eye, it could appear that I turned around just to have another intense eye gazing session. Now I'm trying extra hard to NOT look at him and I bet it seems even MORE obvious.
Final thought. To all those people who like to ask questions 30 seconds before class ends: SHUT THE HELL UP! Turn off your inquisitive mind and start packing your bags like the rest of us for Pete's sake!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Halloween Tricks
The other day I met up with my husband after work to finish up some Halloween shopping. In between stops at every Goodwill/Value Village within a 50 mile radius of our home (we were on a quest for last minute costume item, like the rest of the known world), I pulled into the McDonald's drive thru to get Jacob some chicken nuggets (yes, I am mommy of the year for feeding my one year old child fast food nuggets).
While waiting in line I asked my husband if he wanted anything. He said no. This kinda pissed me off because he JUST got off work and hadn't had dinner. With my super wife/mommy sense I knew that in one hour he would suddenly be STARVING and make me stop to get him something. I asked him again just to be sure, "Are you SURE you don't want anything?" Nope, still no.
I pull up to the order screen.
"Welcome to McDonalds, would you like to try our new frappacinos with...."
"small piece chicken nuggets please."
"Would you like sauce with that?"
"No thanks."
"Can I get you anything else?"
This is when my husband suddenly nudges me. "Oh, can you order me a whopper?"
"Yes, I would like a whopper please."
SILENCE.
There is a resounding silence coming from the black order box. Hmm. Did I forget something? Am I supposed to chose a topping or side or something? I look up at the McDonald's menu. I see a Big Mac. Nope. I see a Quarter Pounder. Hey, there isn't a whopper on the menu. OMG. This isn't Burger King!
I feel all the blood rushing to my face as I try to make amends with the McDonald's employee. "Oh um. Nevermind. Forget that. I'll just have the chicken nuggets. Yes, that's all."
I turn to face my husband and he is cracking up. He is laughing so hard he's crying. In between sobs he says, "What kind of idiot tries to order a whopper at McDonalds?!" I start slapping him with my free hand as I pull forward to the order window. I was so embarassed when I had to confront the employee in person. I wanted to melt into my seat.
My husband got me good and he hasn't let me forget it since.
To my credit, about one hour later, he made me stop at Jack in the Box for dinner becase he was STARVING.
While waiting in line I asked my husband if he wanted anything. He said no. This kinda pissed me off because he JUST got off work and hadn't had dinner. With my super wife/mommy sense I knew that in one hour he would suddenly be STARVING and make me stop to get him something. I asked him again just to be sure, "Are you SURE you don't want anything?" Nope, still no.
I pull up to the order screen.
"Welcome to McDonalds, would you like to try our new frappacinos with...."
"small piece chicken nuggets please."
"Would you like sauce with that?"
"No thanks."
"Can I get you anything else?"
This is when my husband suddenly nudges me. "Oh, can you order me a whopper?"
"Yes, I would like a whopper please."
SILENCE.
There is a resounding silence coming from the black order box. Hmm. Did I forget something? Am I supposed to chose a topping or side or something? I look up at the McDonald's menu. I see a Big Mac. Nope. I see a Quarter Pounder. Hey, there isn't a whopper on the menu. OMG. This isn't Burger King!
I feel all the blood rushing to my face as I try to make amends with the McDonald's employee. "Oh um. Nevermind. Forget that. I'll just have the chicken nuggets. Yes, that's all."
I turn to face my husband and he is cracking up. He is laughing so hard he's crying. In between sobs he says, "What kind of idiot tries to order a whopper at McDonalds?!" I start slapping him with my free hand as I pull forward to the order window. I was so embarassed when I had to confront the employee in person. I wanted to melt into my seat.
My husband got me good and he hasn't let me forget it since.
To my credit, about one hour later, he made me stop at Jack in the Box for dinner becase he was STARVING.
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