Does the Shrieking Sound Alarm You? It Should.

It was a normal day at the office. I was busy impressing a client with some antiquated legal jargon when I heard the distinct sound of the office fire alarm.  I very calmly said "Client, I will have to call you back. The office is on fire."  

I then picked up my cell phone, my car keys and my purse and walked right out of the office.  You know who did not follow me? Oh, everyone else.  They all insisted it was a false alarm.  No one called to say it was a false alarm.  No one turned off the shrieking sounds.  So I headed out the door.  When questioned at the front door if I was "really" going, I replied:

"I am not burning in this hell hole, bitches. Peace out!"

I am so professional.  

The real question is, did they forget the great fire of March 2011. I sure didn't. One electrical fire, one freezing my ass off in the parking lot while waiting to see if we were ever getting back in was enough.  So what did I do?

Went outside in the rain with an umbrella freezing my ass off while waiting to see if we would ever get back in.

Despite the five police cars and one huge fire engine, it turns out it was a false alarm. Someone allegedly sprayed something at the sensor. What? I don't even know where the sensors are and aren't they only supposed to sense SMOKE? So confusing. I suspect it was the place that employs the hackysackers.  It just has to be.

In other news, an attorney stayed behind because she wanted to finish a brief.  I told her I would put that on her gravestone.  "Will burn for work."

Then I called my client back.


 

Ramblings of a Riddler...Tough Guy, Fights and an Exotic New Vegetable

I saw a guy walking two dogs and holding their leashes out in a way that suggests he was walking two huge and powerful dogs. The way you see tough guys walk pitbulls. He was walking two golden retrievers. Two fat ones. In fact, they weren't really even walking, but strolling.  Represent dude.

***

Overheard my elderly neighbor asking his wife "is lunchtime critical?" because he still had yard work to do. Meanwhile, I have no idea when B eats lunch, what he eats or if he even eats.

***

I got into a fight with a pop can today. Guess who won?  Maybe B was on to something when he tied the bag containing the pop cans closed. Unfortunately, I don't think even he could have predicted that I would untie the bag, decide to carry it on my shoulder, and then throw it over my shoulder only to land on the ground. Nor could I have predicted that just as I thought "why aren't these cans exploding" and reached down to corral them, one would explode and spray all over me. Luckily I was just back from court and not going to court.

***

Today was car accident day. I saw two. The first one I was actually a responder to and let the guy sit in my car until EMS arrived. Everyone else just drove around him. The second involved a motorcyclist that I am eternally grateful I was not the first responder to, although it looked like he was alive when I passed. Similarly, my brother stumbled on to an accident and stopped to help and then passed two more.  Heat melts driver's brains. That's a fact.

***

I decided that they came out with a new vegetable when I wasn't looking. Broccoli. You are probably thinking that already exists. It does. However I pronounced in a way that sounded like Brach olie.  As if it were ravioli or something. Everyone laughed at me all day. I now realize it was spelled wrong - Brocolli.  Joke's on them. Yep, it is still broccoli.  Weird thing is, we were talking about peppers. Go figure.

***

What Happens If You Unfriend Your Only Friend? Are You Friendless or Are You Free?

I heard somewhere that today is National Unfriend Day or something. Facebook users are supposed to pare down their friend list and get rid of the unnecessary bulk.  This topic is extremely timely as I have found that I have recently been defriended by a few people.

Now, I do not particularly care if someone defriends me. Except maybe my mom, although she is not on Facebook.  Okay, maybe my brother, my husband, my best friend, that would be sad.  Random people that I reconnected with, but haven't really talked to much? I take no offense.  Time is short. Life is hard. Facebook is full of posts.  Although in my defense, I don't post a lot. Wait. Maybe I am boring people?

In any event, I typically only notice I have been defriended when it is someone that posts a lot and then all of a sudden they stop.  No, they didn't stop. They are still posting endlessly on Facebook, I just don't get to see it.  On to the next 100 posts from friends and family.

But you know what is strange? When you get defriended by someone who only has one friend on Facebook - YOU.  Seriously this just happened to me. Actually, I don't know when it happened because you are not exactly notified when your friendship has been deactivated.  I will pretend it just happened.

So, I am going through my old facebook messages and I find one from this friend that I invited to Facebook. That's right, he wasn't even on Facebook until I came calling. Better yet, I was his only friend. That was a bit strange.  You know what else is strange?  He would post things to his wall, news articles and tidbits and I realized, as his only friend, he was posting directly to me!  Was I supposed to comment on every thing he posted? Why did he think I wanted to read articles from the Wall Street Journal? Was he trying to tell me something?  I guess now I will never know.

You know what is stranger? He is still on Facebook. Without any friends.  Yes, I have been defriended by someone who would rather have no friends than be my friend.  It is like he is the king of Facebook, but he doesn't have any subjects.  

Facebook = bringing people together, tearing them apart, and killing all self esteem.

Now who can *I* defriend??

Pay It Forward 3: It's B's Turn, but Someone Almost Does Die. Charity is Hard.

This weekend was B's turn to pay it forward. Unfortunately, things did not go as smooth for him as the two times I paid it forward. In fact, at some point, I think B regretted his decision to pay it forward and, if possible, would have paid it back. Probably with a swift smack upside someone's head. But I digress.

We were up north at our cottage retreat and decided to take a break from watching Jersey in the lake to get some dinner. We pulled up to the hamburger joint in town, also known as the bar. Side note: Everyone goes to the bar. Even the babies. And that reminds me of the movie Sweet Home Alabama where Reese Witherspoon says to her friend "You have a BABY. In a BAR." I love me some Reese.

I digress again.

So we pull up and to our surprise there is a front row parking spot. As quick as we could yell "SCORE", we were in the spot and I was out the door. At that moment, B motioned to me to get back in the car. A guy asked him to leave the spot because he had his mom with him and she was elderly. So B decided to pay it forward and give them the spot.

Not as easy as it sounds. We started to back up. A car stopped for us, or we thought. As we backed up, the car started honking. I started yelling. B started cursing and threatening to just "take the damn spot back." But all was well. Stupid car kept driving. We found a spot a half a block away. Man and old mom parked really close. I told B he should feel good and he did. The guy thanked him profusely and we went in for a burger.

And as we sat in the bar, eating burgers and ruminating about how many babies were in a bar, the waitress came over with a beer for B. The guy with the mom also paid it forward.

So the cycle continues...

Pay It Forward 2: Giving Cupcakes is Fun and Again, No One Dies

In keeping with my recent Starbucks Pay It Forward Experience, I once again tried to do good and share with others. Again, this was also a result of fate. You see, there is this spot at the top of the off ramp on the freeway by our house where there is always a homeless person sitting there with a sign that says "please help. homeless and hungry." Do you know how bad you can feel, especially in the summer, when you are sitting in your nice air-conditioned car waiting at the stop light and someone is hot and hungry right next to you? Well, you can feel like a jackass.

The thing is, I rarely have any food in my car. Heck, I rarely have anything to drink either. So I never have anything to offer. B has gone and given leftover holiday food and other items to the guy before but I have never had the opportunity.

Until the other day.

It was a Friday and I was driving home from work with a paper plate full of wonderfully delicious carrot cupcakes that a coworker had brought in just for me. While stopped at the light, it suddenly dawned on me that I had something to give! So I rolled down my window and held out a cupcake. The guy immediately ran over and when he saw it was a cupcake, his eyes just lit up. I told him it was my birthday (yes useless information) and that I wanted to share my cupcakes with him. He graciously wished me a happy birthday and ran back to his place to eat his cupcake with a huge grin on his face.

And I felt good.

Sure it probably didn't cure his hunger. Sure it wasn't the healthiest thing. But it was food; fun food and probably something he didn't get very often. Hell, at that point I wouldn't have cared if he was conning me* and wasn't really homeless.

Everyone deserves a cupcake.

*My Mom, upon hearing this story, cautioned me on being conned and putting myself in danger by rolling down my window for a strange guy and that I could have been killed. All very valid points, but I try to keep at least a small semblance of faith in the human race and try to exercise caution with every action. Everyone deserves a cupcake!

And Then the REAL Dani Came Out

I have been at the new office for just over 6 months now. I may not have told you I got a new job, but I did shortly after I had my gallbladder removed. I love the new office and the people I work with, which is always a plus. I do miss some of the people that I used to work with, but we try to stay in touch.

Anyway, as those of you that have had more than one job know, when you start at a new place you tend to be quieter, more reserved at first. The same is true of me. Although right now I know some people reading this are probably screaming "LIAR" at the screen. I said MORE reserved, not totally reserved. Later, though, at some point, you feel comfortable enough and the real you comes out. That happened to me with my new colleagues just the other day.

I went to lunch with three other female attorneys. There was a wait and we had to give our to the host who said it would be a 10-15 minute wait. Then a party of 3 came in and gave their name. Then a part of 2 came in and the host SAT THEM AT A TABLE FOR FOUR. So I started to get a wee bit irritated. Then the host took 4 menus and put them at a table of four without taking anyone there. I looked at a woman in the party of 3 and said "is he seating invisible people now?" She just shrugged while also looking perplexed. The host then came over and SAT THE PARTY OF 3 that came in after us. I truly thought my head was going to explode! The minute he came near me, I lunged toward him with my finger out and growled "I ASSUME we will be seated now." My coworkers were shocked and amazed. The host? Not so much. Do you know what he said?

"I already have a table for you."

Um, where would that be exactly or do we have to psychically find it I wonder? He then points at the table where he put the menus. Now how in the heck were we supposed to know that we were to sit there when the HOST did not seat us? A woman from my office asked "are you going to walk us there" at which point I muttered "apparently NOT" and led the way to the table.

That, my friends, is the real Dani.* She's back. She's bitchy. And she's been storing pent up rage and incredulous disdain for MONTHS.

Watch out.

*Actually, it is Stage 1 Real Dani. Stage 2 would probably have involved another head explosion after the host pointed to "our table" and perhaps some cursing. Okay. Definitely some cursing. Stage 2 has not yet been revealed.

Introducing the Newest Member of Our Family...

Meet Lil' B. Isn't he cute?

Okay, well his real name is Bradford.* B calls him Brad or "cat." I call him Lil' B because he is so frickin' little. It is hard to photograph Lil' B as he is always on the move.

By the way, I recently vehemently said no to a third cat. Many times. So how did we end up with this one? Well he was a stray that my Dad found. Although he was one of a litter, all of the other kittens were killed. My Dad assured me he was the sweetest thing ever. He even let my Dad put a collar on him. I told him to bring him over for a meet and greet. Lil' B never left.

He is very loving. In fact, that is him trying to get some loving from me while I am trying to take his picture. As soon as he gets anywhere near you he starts purring the loudest I have ever heard. He loves to sit in your lap and be pet and will just look up at you content. Sometimes he pulls a Chester and puts his paws on your face or crawls up your neck. Luckily he weighs less than three pounds.

You are probably wondering why all of these pictures occur on our back porch. Well the vet told us Lil' B had an upper respiratory infection so he had to be quarantined from the big boys. As a stray, he didn't seem to mind. He had plenty of food and water. I also made sure to visit him in the morning and evening and play or love him. B (the original that is) would also go out and visit with him of which I was unaware (and after Lil' B became less sneezy and drippy - gross). I caught them outside one day like this:

How could you not love that face? Well, ask Chester and Mooch. They are not fans. More so Mooch then Chester. Lil' B was given the all clear by the vet and we have spent the last two days attempting to introduce and mostly mediate the three cats. Lil' B thinks things are great. Mooch thinks it is the end of the world. Chester is curious.

I need ear plugs.

Seriously. Mooch spends most of his time howling, growling, hissing and running away. This only causes Lil' B to chase after him. It is probably a good thing Mooch doesn't have claws. Meanwhile Chester stays cautiously back and watches/stalks the new cat. Lil' B loves to charge at him only to get frightened at the last minute and turn away. If the new cat is on the move, Chester will run right behind him. At one point I was trying to catch Lil' B who was running with Chester behind him and me behind Chester. Yes, we all ran in a big circle before I realized I was chasing a cat who was chasing a cat. You can call me Garfield. Actually, Garfield probably wouldn't chase a cat but that is the only cartoon cat I can think of at the moment.

Chester will come into the same room and will come near me to get pet if the cat is in my lap. Well, at least until Lil' B bent down and bit his head. Chester looked at him and made this pitiful little howl.

Sigh.

So for now, Lil' B is sleeping on the porch and only inside when either B or I are home to make sure no one is killed. Meanwhile, I am trying not to dream of the howls, growls, moans and hisses that are happening on a daily basis.

We are in for quite the ride.

*Lil' B's name is an homage to the street where he was found.

I'll Take Johnnie Cochran for $200, Alex

So the other day I was sitting in court waiting for my case to be called. As you can imagine, I thought I would be last and would be there a while. Although I was not called last, I still had time to listen to a few cases before me.

One of the cases involved an appeal in a criminal matter regarding a ruling on excluding evidence of the actual arrest. The accused's attorney was arguing that the officer did not have probable cause for the arrest as he arrested this man in his garage after he had already pulled in. The attorney went on to say that there were no exigent circumstances because, even if the officer had put on his lights to signal to pull over, he did so a mere 6 seconds before the guy was in his garage. This prompted the judge to immediately, without a second thought, quip:

However slight, it can still be flight.

He then laughed and said "I'm no Johnnie Cochran, but..." I would agree. He is no Johnnie Cochran because his quip actually made sense. After all, it was a legal summation on the state of the law rather than a creatively successful, albeit ridiculous, attempt to skew the facts to gain an acquittal.

I would like to think I would be a pretty humorous, off-the-cuff judge should I ever take the bench. Then again, everyone would have to laugh regardless if I was humorous wouldn't they?

Oh the power...

What Do Suicidal Jumpers, Train, Hobos, Hookers and Strip Joints All Have in Common?

These are all things I encountered on my ride home the one night. Not my usual trip, that's for sure.

Because of a suicidal jumper, the freeway was shut down for over 6 hours. Six hours up on a bridge. That man ain't a jumpin'. What did happen, however, was that my typical 45 minute drive turned into 2 hours.

For the first hour I traveled down a stretch of road spending most of it twittering since I wasn't moving at all. I also talked to my Mom. I then decided I needed another course of action and turned.

Thereafter I passed the area where the man was hanging off, or on, or around, a pedestrian bridge over the freeway. Know what I saw? An entirely different bridge full of gawkers. Um, nice. What do you want to see? A rescue? A jump?

I then traveled through a seedier part of town hoping for less traffic. Wrong. However, what I did find was:

1. 3 strip clubs
2. 2 hobos providing an explanation to the lady in front of me as to why traffic was so bad. Not sure why she decided to ask them. Their answer: "turn BACK" with arms flailing. It was a one way road.
3. 1 hooker/hitchhiker. She glared at me so I did not pick her up. If she had smiled, well...
4. 1 ridiculously long train into hour two

I mean, really, a TRAIN? It actually felt as if I was in some poorly written comedy where the heroine (that's me you know) is stopped at every angle from reaching her destination by whatever ridiculous means the lame ass writers can throw at her - potential suicide (check), freeway closure (check), crawling traffic (check), gawkers (check), hobos telling people to go in the wrong direction (check), hitchhikers (check)....um, what else? How about a train! Perfect.

Just perfect.

These Old Houses Part Deux

Back to our tour. As you have figured out, I took a LOT of pictures. I thought it best to break them up into two parts.

So, let's keep walking:

This is not the side of a house, it is the carriage house out back. I call it "super cool" because it is an entire apartment over the garage complete with kitchen, bedroom, living room and bathroom. It reminds me of the carriage house that Minnie Driver had in the movie Grosse Pointe Blank:

The backyard of that same house:

The tallest flower I have ever seen that was not a sunflower:

Full view of the back of the house:

As B and I were walking down the street, we saw this garden like thing where a house should be:

Then we noticed that house way back in the left corner behind the brick wall. B went in for a closer look:

Look how far away that house is! Now that is a yard!

One of the last houses we visited. Also, one of the longest lines, so I took a lot of pictures:

It may be hard to tell from the picture above, but the front of the house faces the side street rather than the main street. We have a house like that on our street. Unfortunately, the one on our street faces a main road.

This is the side of the house that faces the main street:

And right after I took the picture is when the twins I referenced in my last post arrived. MY twins. Yep, I looked down to discover that my blouse had basically become almost all the way undone and you could see everything I had. Thank god I was wearing a bra. Apparently B didn't notice. I would like to think no one else did either but I find that highly unlikely. B decided I wasn't fit to be taken out in public anymore. He may be right.

Back to the house. This is approaching the front door:

A view of the stained glass windows and details on the window sill:

Detail of the wood above the doorway:

This is an alley. An old school, accessible alley. B decided we should cut through it. I felt like a criminal. The dogs thought we were criminals based on their barking and growling.

I love how this house is covered in ivy. I do not love how that lady is in my picture:

However, I could not wait for the lady to move, because B was already on the move. Look how far ahead of me he was:

A home that looks good from across the street:

But, as you get closer, you see it needs some "TLC" as one lady put it:

I love this door:

Like a fairytale home:

And then the tour ends:

We had a great three hours and picked up some ideas for our house as well. I did not take any inside pictures because I thought it might be disrespectful to those that lived there. Actually, in some homes they told us we were not allowed. I kind of wish I had though. At least of those items B and I thought would work in our home.

So concludes our tour for this year folks! Until next year, you will have to be satisfied with pictures of our house.

Catch Me If You Can Copper!

The latest edition of the Crime Watch Chronicles in our paper involved a drunk driver who nearly collided with police, but not in the way you would think.

You see, Ms. DUI was driving erratically giving the police the impression she might be intoxicated. Thus, they attempted to pull her vehicle over. Like a good soldier, the woman slowed down gradually and came to stop on a residential road. However, she mistook "reverse" for "park" thereby causing the officer that pulled her over to have to quickly reverse his vehicle as well as call the backup vehicle and tell him to reverse. Gives a whole new meaning to "backup" doesn't it? The woman reversed a full two car lengths before the officer put on his siren and she stopped.

Needless to say, she was arrested because she was too intoxicated to even perform any sobriety tests.

As soon as I read this story it reminded me of my own story about being pulled over by the cops, although I was not drunk at the time. This story is legend in my family and even B knows it.

You see, I was a young 17ish girl driving like a fool down a busier-but-still-residential street when I spotted a police car heading toward me. At that exact moment, my car actually caught air from the huge bump I hit and I knew I was in trouble. Sure enough, the cop was attempting to do a U turn to pull me over. So I did what any rational 17 year old would do.

I ran.

Yep. I put the pedal to the medal and took off! What was I hoping to accomplish you wonder? I just wanted to get home which was a few blocks away. Why, you ask? Because my Dad worked in law enforcement and I was convinced he could get me out of this. You know out of the whole fleeing and eluding the police and everything (see fingers, I told you I mostly elude and not allude).

So I sped and make totally erratic and dangerous turns until finally I stopped about one house away from mine as my Dad was walking out of the front door. Gold!

The cop was PISSED! My Dad was PISSED! I was 17 so I was surly and foul. But, I did not get a ticket. I did get grounded for over a week and a lecture on being nicer to cops that pull me over when I am FLEEING THEM.

But I didn't get a ticket.

Many years later and just a few months ago at a family dinner, B asked my Dad about this story. We all laughed and then my Dad said "it was actually rather smart of her."

Gold!

*Please note that I never would endorse fleeing or eluding a police officer for any reason let alone something as stupid as speeding. However, I was 17 and stupid and hormonal and ...enough said.

The Write Way

Today is election day. I know, you probably hadn't noticed.  Personally, I am excited for all of the campaigning and ads to stop. Then I can go back to my ad free life watching The Hills.*  But before that happens, voting must occur.  So, I have decided to write myself in as candidate for President of the United States of America.  Why not? I think I have the experience.  After all, I was President of a group at law school.  And, I was actually a successful write in candidate for student representative my first year.  That's a winning combination if I ever heard one.  Let me take you back about 9 years or so....

We were in the middle of a full fledged campaign for student something or another at school. There were probably about four candidates for the spot in our class although I only remember two of them and for two reasons.  First, they were my friends (yes both of them).  Second, they were running on a platform together although there was only one spot...and only one of them could win...so technically they were running together, but against, each other. Confusing, I know.

In the midst of all of this confusion, a few people remarked that I should have put my bid in for the spot.  The more remarks were made, the more I thought they were right. Why wasn't I running?  Well, alas, it was only two days before election.  Too late to do anything but ponder what could have been.  However, someone wiser than me, an upperclassman, suggested I should be a write in candidate. After researching and getting a permission slip or something, it was approved.  But how does one go about becoming a write in candidate - how do you get the word out?

Campaign posters were out.  We were told that I could put them up but the other candidates made such a stink that I modestly declared they "weren't necessary."  For the next two days, I and my upperclassman friend, proceeded to spread, via word of mouth, my message. That message consisted of "elect me" or something equally benign yet clever.  Word quickly spread like fire. Why, I don't know. Everyone wanted me to win, although perhaps not my opponents. The day of the election was upon us and we did not stop campaigning.  In fact, I sat by the election table introducing myself to everyone.  My opponents - the together yet against each other team - despite being my friends** did not trust me so they, too, sat by the table.  After a long hard day/night, the tally was in.

I won.

Yep - I, a write in candidate, two days before election, with no signs, won. Victory.  The power was ALL mine.  Never had I been so successful, wanted something so badly, that I took it and seized it, trampling foes and friends alike in my thirst.  I was riding high.

Until my first meeting.  That is when I realized being a representative was annoying as hell. All anyone did was bitch and moan and nothing good happened.  Victory quickly became lackluster enthusiasm which dwindled to pure hatred.

I imagine that might be what it is like to be elected President of the United States.  At least, that is what I will tell myself when my write in candidacy campaign fails.

UPDATE: Another candidate has declared his write in candidacy. He may win on cuteness alone.

*Yeah I like mindless TV. Who doesn't?

**Not much of a friend was I? Running against them like that. However, how could they even explain their dual platform for a single election? So puzzling.