Sometimes I Can Only Process One Thing in My Brain. That Makes it Monotastic Time!

One week ago I had a trial. It lasted two and a half days. I spent a week and a half preparing for it. All I could think about that entire time and almost through today, a week later, were the details of the trial. Seriously.

I know every date that woman had treatment. Every doctor with whom she treated. The dates she received care by friends. The dates she missed work. Her alleged injuries. The name of her children.

But that is all I know.

My brain, although I would like to think it is quite large, when it goes into trial function, can only process one subject - TRIAL. In fact, my response to almost everything was screaming "I AM IN TRIAL." It didn't matter what the question was:

"We need to talk about refinancing" : I AM IN TRIAL!

"What kind of new car do you want?" : I AM IN TRIAL!

"Are you going to eat that?" : I AM IN TRIAL!

Special shout out to B who put up with me for those two weeks. I am sure it wasn't easy. Also, a special shout out to Jersey who was quite distracting when I needed it most.

Anyway, I am here to say that now I have put it all behind me and I am ready to use sentences that do not involve the words "trial," "objection," "your honor," and "assholes." Okay, maybe not that last one.

Trial is exhausting.

Tonight while driving home, I stopped at a light and saw a man on the corner with headphones on - dancing away. Actually, he was putting on quite a show for those watching. Huge smile. Crazy moves. Seriously a cross between rap and the robot? Anyway, he made me smile. In fact, he was in the exact spot that the guy told B that he was just "singing a song." This guy was just dancing a dance.

And it reminded me of a conversation earlier today when a colleague asked if I ever wished I was doing something else with my life. Something creative. I told him that I thought about that a lot. Lawyering is exhausting, frustrating and time consuming.

And tonight? Tonight I wanted to be that man on the corner, just dancing a dance with the hugest smile ever. No obvious cares.

Lord knows I shouldn't sing in public.

If Somewhere a Dog Coughs, Does a Cat Sneeze?

So, Jersey is sick again. Nothing major this time. Just a little cold. A little cold that manages to leave her hacking like a 90 year old and then spitting up various fluids like a baby. Oh, did I mention that sometimes she does it on you? So gross. Usually it is just on the blankets. We have been washing them a lot.

After about a week of Jersey hacking, coughing and spitting everywhere, Brad started getting sniffles and wheezes. It was like some weird domino effect that didn't make sense. A discussion ensued:

B: I think Jersey got Brad sick.
Me: A dog can't get a cat sick.
B: Why not? They are both animals.
Me: We are all animals. If that is the case, we would all be having sex.
B: I saw a movie like that once.
Me: Ha! Me too.

Now, you are probably thinking to yourself "What on earth does having sex have to do with getting sick?" Obviously you have never had a one nightstand. But, here, the point I was trying to make is that some animals are not compatible whether it is by passing on illnesses or by being able to reproduce. Unfortunately I kind of missed that connection in the conversation. Luckily, B was able to make the connection. That is why we are in love.

Or he just likes to think about movies where people have sex with animals.

So gross.

*I swear dogs can sleep anywhere!

Crime Watch Wednesday: Of Course it is Valuable, I Use it to Wipe my Ass!

...and we're back!*

Finally, the moment you have all been waiting for...another Crime Watch Wednesday edition. To ring this year in right, albeit three months, late, let me tell you the tale of a woman to whom money means nothing. Literally.

You see, our friend, had a wee bit too much to drink and decided to make her way out of the parking lot. The problem? She had to pay first. No problem for this gal. After all, she had a baby wipe.

Yes, she tried to pay her parking fee with a baby wipe.

The employee called her "confused." The police called her "drunk." I think the police were on to something considering she (1) backed her car into a parked vehicle, (2) didn't know her name, (3) couldn't speak, (4) stated she had several drugs at home that she needed to get rid of, (5) blew more than three times the legal limit for alcohol.

Oh, and she mistook a babywipe for money. A babywipe. You know what this means, right?

She has a child.

Also? She is borderline genius. Why genius? Because babywipes are thick like money and feel gritty too. Why borderline? Because they are WET.

In other news, I have elected to travel around with a large supply of Puffs with Lotion. Why, you ask? They are thicker than regular kleenex and when grouped together can look like a wad of cash. They are also very soothing. Allergies? Check. Parking fees? Check.

Genius.

*Users of Gmail should recognize this saying. It always pops up in the status/chat section. Even if you didn't know it was gone, it will remind you that it is back. Google is nice that way.

B's Words of Wisdom: Being a Tiger isn't Worth Losing a Cat

All of the talk recently about Tiger Woods and his many women, coupled with his apology "press conference" where he robotically told everyone he is sorry and will do better or whatever, has prompted some interesting conversations around these parts. Mostly from B.

The first pronouncement had to do with the quality of the women Tiger chose. I tend to agree. Did you notice they got worse in the looks department with every new one?

Then came the pronouncement that B's job is not worth losing over those women. Suffice it to say, B isn't that crazy about his job.

Finally, however, was the creme de la creme of comments. That is when B said:

"I wouldn't even risk losing my relationship with Brad for those women."

And he said that as if his relationship with Brad meant so little. Really, B? I think you two are closer than you would like everyone to know.

I submit Exhibit A, where B pretends he does not like Brad:

Exhibit B, however, shows that he actually does like Brad, and Brad's kisses:

Exhibit C shows that he even likes when Brad kisses his eyes:

Case closed, ladies and gentlemen.

These two are in love.

This Doesn't Sound Like a Very Good Horoscope

The other day, I found this horoscope in my email box. At first it sounded delightful:

You are on the brink of something fantastic, DANIELLE, so just hang in there a little bit longer. It could be that you feel like the little train engine who is slowly working her way up the mountain. Perhaps you have made compromises and sacrifices along the way in order to get where you are. Just keep going. Pretty soon you will top the crest, and the rest of the journey will be all downhill. The tremendous work you have put in will pay off generously.

Wait.

"The rest of the journey will be all downhill."

Downhill? Doesn't that sound...um, bad? Like, "oh, it's all downhill from here" [insert sad face].

I mean, really. Who wants to "top the crest" only to fall all the way down. Can't I stay on that crest for a while?

Lessons learned:

1. Hard work does NOT pay off.
2. Crests are temporary.
3. Being at the top means you are going to fall.
4. Downhill = bad
5. Horoscopes are stupid.