Cupid Shuffle

Saturday Ryan and Jess got married! Ryan is a husband, it's crazy. Congratulations to them. Mazel tov. The wedding was lots of fun. The couple was happy, the guests were happy, and the father/daughter dance inspired some tears. The ceremony was at a church in DC. It was a little more religious than I was expecting, though I don't know why since it was in a church after all. I think it's the first mass I've ever sat through, so that was neat. The reception was at the officer's club of an army base in Virginia. "But they don't allow drinking on army bases!" someone protested. "Oh yeah? Watch me," was my response. Turns out they didn't have any booze, just Shirley Temples.
I am kidding. They had an open bar which was nicely stocked (and some people did have "dirty Shirleys.") The bartender, however, was half deaf and repeatedly gave people a drink they had not ordered. Kerry asked for whiskey and received a cranberry vodka. Her theory was that the bartender figured that she's a chick and that's what chicks drink.
Another great facet of the wedding was the Bad Grammer love. It was great to see Erica, Celia, Dumps, Talya, and Josh. (It was also nice to see other people, but I was at the BG table so I'm focusing on them. And they are more important than most other people so...deal with it.) It is sincerely heartwarming that we are so much like family that we garner an entire table at the wedding reception.

Not to worry, the DJ played the "Cupid Shuffle." I know you were worried about it, but it happened. We also did the "Electric Slide." It was so long since I last did the Electric Slide that I nearly forgot how to do it. Luckily, it ain't exactly the most complicated dance in the world. It's at least one step below the "Single Ladies" music video.
Ryan stepped onto the dance floor with about fifteen seconds left in "Call Me Maybe." Upon hearing he had missed the song, he goes, "That's it. I really gotta quite smoking." Great motivation right there.

Every time I listen to the Black Eyed Peas I dislike them a little bit more. Their songs really are not good.
I'm really going with the music comments tonight. The background in Rihanna's "Hopeless Place" is basically just the "Macarena." Listen to it. Tell me I'm wrong.

Ryan's bachelor party was on Thursday, and was a great time as well. The highlight was going to the Columbia Room. The bartender's version of the rickey (the official drink of DC), called the shandy rickey, was one of the best cocktails I've ever had. And Ryan's drink, the Ghost Dance, was amazing as well. It involved burning some herbs with a brulee torch and putting the glass over it to get the glass smokey. It took pretentious craft cocktails to a whole new level. And I loved it.

Blah blah blah studying for the bar is a pain, barbri sucks, and so on. You know the drill. Don't let my briskness detract from my candor on this, however.

My Finger!

Last night I hacked off a small portion of my pinkie finger with a mandolin. It was the bloodiest injury I've sustained in years. I feel so hardcore now, with my X-Men bandaid and whatnot. I'm basically a member of the 300. While continuing to chop an onion after my horrific injury, I screamed "This. Is. Sparta.!!!!!"
Note: I don't actually have an X-Men bandaid. I'm not cool enough for that. Just a regular CVS brand one.

Just finished the "Hunger Games." According to Shaked, it shouldn't have taken me so long. The book was pretty good. I'd call it a page turner. Some enemies become friends, a girl learns a lot about herself, and a large number of small children die in horrific ways. Hrm. It's pretty brutal for what I'd call a young-adult book. A bit more gruesome than the Hardy Boys.
I have been informed that the second and third books are not worth it, so my work seems like it ends here.

I watched a lot of the Grammies last night for the first time in many years. My initial reaction was that there isn't a ton of good, popular music being released these days. Another reaction is that Chris Brown is a douchebag. I'd find it a lot easier to accept him back to the Grammies if his performances didn't suck.
Also, if the Foo Fighters are really the premier "Hard Rock" band these days, then we have fallen into a sad state of affairs indeed. I like the guy, but I didn't need to see Dave Grohl perform 4 times - none of it particularly good. Though props for wearing a Slayer shirt.
Adele...you sly fox. Does anyone really hate Adele? I guess I can see her ex-boyfriend not liking her. But besides that, I think she's universally accepted as good. But it always pains me to see an award show roll over and die for one artist like that.

The Past Week

Alright, so now I'm sick. I have a fever and it hurts to swallow. I will live to fight another day. But it came at about as convenient a time as it could have. I am done with work, back from a vacation in Maine, and have a few days before I head up to Boston. I think this is one of those illnesses where my body finally stopped running and realized it needed to get sick. At least that's how my mother would explain it. Hold on, I'm going out to CVS to get ice cream. Brb.

Alright, mischief managed. Anyways, despite being sick life is not so bad. Last Friday was the last day of work. None of the summer associates really had anything to do. So we cut out early with a few associates and got margaritas and food at Lauriol Plaza. From there we hit up Big Hunt and Buffalo Billiards, the usual haunts. We all agreed that we were happy with the summer and we hope to get offers. The time line for hearing should be another week or two.
I think I have mentioned it before, but it bears repeating. My firm was collegial and relaxed, and there was no one I would not want to work with that I encountered. No sadists, lunatics, or stereotypical biglaw jerks. Everyone worked a lot and worked hard, but was generally happy. It was a much better vibe than I had hoped for. So I would like an offer. It would at least save me some grief. But I would also probably take it. If I have to work in biglaw, then I'd like to work in a good place with fun people. But now the ten week job interview is over and the decision is out of my hands. If worst comes to worst, I got a lot of free monogrammed swag out of it.

Last weekend was highlighted by Emma's band coming to play. They played at the lead singer's cousin's house party and I was told to come and invite friends. I ended up bringing a dozen people with me, so I was nervous that we were just invading someone's house. But it turned out perfectly. The band rocked, everyone loved the music and danced their faces off, and there was free booze. Win-win-win.
Apparently the band made up a song on the spot about bootydo ("When your stomach sticks out farther than you bootydo") while everyone was dancing. And many of my friends were somehow surprised that I brought them to a good party with a fun band. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
It was great to see Emma and her band. There is something gratifying about being the only person who knows any lyrics to any of the songs. Also, something creepy about it.

Monday through Thursday Kerry and I went to Maine to visit Packard. Maine was...great. I actually went to sleep chilly for the first time in months. And the Packard family is awesome. I would much rather lay on a boat in the middle of the lake in Maine enjoying the sun than sweat through my shirt at 7:45 am on the Metro going to work. But that's not much of a comparison is it? Well, I got to do that boat thing. I also got to grill steaks, go on a cocktail cruise, go to the outlets, and walk around Portland. All in a couple of day's work. Uncharacteristically, the most incredible thing I did was lie in the boat for a half an hour at night, looking at the stars. Sounds sappy, I know, but I did see three shooting stars. The sky was so clear, it was like being in a planetarium. Ok, now I need to say something masculine to cover for the fact that star-gazing was actually quite moving. How about...big dipper, I barely know her. Oh, that's terrible. Let's move on.

I finished "Game of Thrones" and am moving on to "Clash of Kings." Quite addictive. The only problem is that I don't want to have Game of Thrones dreams, so I'm not sure how much of it I should read before bed. I don't even need to dream about the Knight's Watch and wake up wondering how I got to be Hand of the King. It's unhealthy. Nerd alert!

Star Wars and Lord of the Rings: these are a few of my favorite things. It rhymes. And it's true.

I like watching the Nationals and listening to their announcers pretend they still have a shot at the Wild Card. Just because it is statistically still possible to win it, does not mean they have a shot. The Nationals are a scrappy bunch, but they are not going to the playoffs this season. I'm sorry.

Agh, I wish I could think of more to say. Particularly more amusing things. But this darn fever is clouding my thoughts. Fever, fever go away, come again...never.

Keep on rockin in the winter wonderland

News flash! New England got pummeled by snow. We got about a foot here that I had the special privilege of shoveling. Its reasons like this that New Englanders are unfailingly self-important - our righteous snow removal. It was kind of fun watching the Great Blizzard of '10, but it got far less enjoyable when I realized that I wasn't going outside at all yesterday. I even did a bit of work on my note as a result of my cabin fever. Nothing like being forced into productivity. That's perhaps how I imagine ritalin feels.

If there is one thing I hate, it is "Eat, Pray, Love." So maybe I've never actually read the book or seen the movie, but I am 100% certain that I hate it.

I talked with a friend of mine who has an M.F.A. in poetry. She was reminiscing about how difficult grad school was and how they all had to open up to each other and share their feelings. They were treated as such individuals. I could not think of a more contrasting graduate school experience to law school. Feelings? What are those? No one cares how this makes you feel, they want to know whether proper 553 notice and comment rulemaking procedures were followed. Write a poem about that. Then burn it because it will be the second worst poem ever (after Maya Angelou's "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," yes it is a poem as well as the title of her book).

My iTunes has chosen to spread the message that I should "Keep on rockin' in the free world." Since this is my blog, I thought I would share that inspirational message in these dark and troubled times.

There is a new heating system in my mother's house. When the heat goes on the pipes make a noise that sounds like a TIE Fighter. It is super distracting.

Incoherence, Begin

Oh man my head hurts. Where's the advil at? That's my bad, hasn't happened in a while. Posting something also hasn't happened in a while, so I'm doing that...as you can clearly see. Alright, where to begin? Apparently being hungover makes me narrate just about everything I'm thinking, and makes me think just about as fast as I can type, which is pretty fast if I do say so myself. I am an excellent typo. Whoops, I meant typist (insert laugh here).

Monday was an important day. While sitting in Administrative Law, I made the conscious decision not to beat myself to death with the casebook to escape the misery of learning about retroactive application of informal rulemaking. Just reading that sentence you can clearly see why this was a conscious decision. Also, I spent an hour of my Foreign Relations Law class unsuccessfully trying to download the new Girl Talk album. Apparently it was way too much for the school internet to handle, but when I got home it downloaded just fine. I have never been happier to pay tens of thousands of dollars a year to go to this school. But the album is good. I am a huge fan of mixing Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecelia" with "Get Low" by Lil' John. Never were there more disparate songs put together. Except maybe in other Girl Talk songs.

Honey is an under-appreciated sweetener.

Thursday I exercised three times. I ran, played catch with Reza, and played basketball with Jason. The latter two were unforeseen offers to do fun things, so I rolled with them. But my body was clearly not ready for that level of physical activity. My back and shoulder have been reprimanding me for the last two days. I often think poorly of professional athletes who are too tired to do things, like pitch again within a few days. But for real, I am in no position to talk. Granted, I am not a professional athlete so it is not my job to do these athletic activities. But basketball, for example, requires lots of movement. And I am terrible at it.
Here's a thing I do not like: being the shortest person in a pickup basketball game. I am not that short, I'm average. But apparently basketball attracts tall people. Who woulda thought? I also did not play basketball growing up, so I don't have the same basic skill that someone who played in high school does. Being bad at pickup basketball made me really defensive about my choice of sport; I wanted to say to people "Yeah well if you find some swords we can see what is what." I really do not ever have the same chance to demonstrate my fencing prowess in a pickup game. There's no pickup fencing at the YMCA last time I checked.

I got a flu vaccine. Now I cannot fly.

Alright, time to attempt to work. This will not end well today.

Actively Bad

To say a sad farewell to Yael, a few people (I think many of them read this, maybe they'd like to be mentioned? Braver, Dan, Yael, Nathaniel, Ron, and Shaked) met up for dessert at Athans, a bakery/cafe in Brookline. Do not go there! Somewhere in between discussions of arm hair, head hair, and nameless biblical characters we ordered dessert. You'd expect dessert to be good when you are at a place that serves it exclusively and charges an exorbitant amount for it. But it wasn't. I ordered a framboise cake. Upon taking a first bite I noticed it was dry. The second bite confirmed this, and also informed me that what little flavor was to be found was terrible. Not "It wasn't good," but, as I put it at the time, "Actively bad." I was just going to leave it alone, but after some badgering/encouragement (depending on who you are asking) I asked the guy at the counter who had served me if I could exchange it for something else:
Him: Is there a problem?
Me: This isn't good. Like, it's...pretty bad.
Him: Ok.
Me: Do you think I could exchange it for something else?
Him: Ok.
Me: Are the eclairs cold?
Him: They are all cold. The case is a refrigerator.
Me: (mostly to myself) That cake wasn't cold...
He had a European accent and was snooty. Maybe re-read that conversation with that fact in mind. I'm waaaay too lazy to edit what has already happened in the post. Anyway, the eclair was decent, though still probably sub-par, particularly for $5. And it wasn't all that cold either. Moral of the story: don't go there, you will be disappointed (if you are me at least).

I was told in no uncertain terms by the Dean of Financial Aid that there was nothing she could do for me. I specifically asked whether there was any argument, no matter how persuasive, that I could make to her that would change anything. She said no. Well I feel good about my law school and their attention to my needs. Tomorrow I'll try a different administrator. Then Friday perhaps another. It'll be a fun getting-snubbed-by-administrators party. (Note: not a good theme for an actual party; much better would be reasons that America is awesome. Or 90's.)

"Hey, Soul Sister" by Train: overplayed yet wholesome. Something on which everyone can agree, then agree they have heard too many times.
Also, welcome back from from the 90's, Train. How was that decade where you didn't do anything?

4th and More

The Fourth was largely traditional - cookout, reading the Declaration of Independence (sometimes in assorted voices), and heading into Cambridge for fireworks on the Charles. I ate too much, got angry at strangers for standing on our blanket, and watched a girl run off the T to vomit. What more could you want from our nation's birthday? Back to the getting angry at strangers part, this guy randomly stood on our blanket during the fireworks and kept shouting "woo" in appreciation of the fireworks right in my ear. Why are you shouting woo in my ear? The pyrotechnicians can't hear you. Are you impressed by the fireworks? I've got news for you, so is everyone else. Now please leave my vicinity and stop shouting. On a positive note, the fireworks were actually really good this year.

A few days ago I went out to eat around Fanueil Hall. Every single bar/restaurant is the same. On the same corner there are three Irish pubs, all with names like McFaddens (that's one, not to be confused with the McFaddens in DC - where you go to see underage college kids try too hard), all with the same menu items, and even all with the same color and font on their menus. There was literally no point in trying to decide between them. So I just left because the area smelled bad on account of the horse-drawn carriage rides that were taking place. Then, walking through Fanueil Hall, there were three live bands playing (terribly). One male vocalist was taking on "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga and another band did a truly awful rendition of "Devil Went Down to Georgia." The third was the best, sticking to some crappy 80's song which required no talent to perform in the first place, so covering it wasn't too difficult. Then onto the other strip of bars that also had the exact same menu items, Irish theme, and selection of poor cover bands which would begin playing after 9 or so. At least not all of these ones had the same colored menu. Ah Boston Irish, I love it.

In the Lady Gaga song "Alejandro" she takes a really long pause after she says "She's got both hands..." which often makes me consider the alternatives - having one or no hands. That would suck.

A note to the birds: you need to stop diving right in front of my car while I am driving. You can fly; fly high to the other side of the street. There is absolutely no need to constantly risk the kind of peril you place yourself in by flying three feet off the ground in front of a moving vehicle. You also make me very nervous.
I don't think I've hit a bird yet, but I'm waiting for it to happen any day now. I'm also just waiting for a bird to dive smack into the windows of my car.

Today: day off of work. Tomorrow: watching a witness get embarrassed at a hearing for not telling the entire truth. When someone says that investment increased constantly and substantially each year, you'd expect the investments to go up each year, wouldn't you? Well let's watch him explain his choice of words when faced with the information which he provided that investments, in fact, went down for a number of years. This should be funsies.

"I drive a Dodge Stratus! I can do twenty pushups in one minute!" This SNL quote got me in trouble and sparked a moderately intoxicated pushup competition between Chris and me. But we can both do more than twenty in one minute, so everyone's a winner!

The New Hampshire state liquor store is a phenomenal location. What a bargain! That's a price that can't be beat!

Field Sobriety Testing

Someone, I think Ethan, made the astute comment that auto-tune music is going to sound ridiculous to people in a few years. I think it was specifically in reference to the song "Down" by some talentless guy featuring Lil' Wayne. I agree with Ethan, the songs that are popular now are going to be incredibly outdated and just don't have the staying power necessary to go down in history as "good music."

Last night while I was driving home I saw some of the most blatant displays of drunk driving ever. First there was a cab who could not stay in his own lane to save his life. I'm pretty sure he thought that the dotted white line was something to center your car on...and he was even failing at keeping it centered on that. Then there was an SUV which pulled up next to me as the guy in the passenger seat rolled down the window to yell at a pedestrian. At the next red light I was directly behind this SUV when the guy in the passenger seat opened the door and literally fell out of the car holding a McDonalds bag. He got to his feet and stumbled back into the car; then the light turned green and the car took off at about 60 mph, swerving around a bit. I caught up to it at the next red light, and again it took off at 60. Just to show the futility of speeding off, I wanted to catch it at the next one too, but unfortunately I had a turn to make. Unfortunately there wasn't a cop around either. That would have been some fun field sobriety testing.

Yesterday I took my friend Ryan to the airport at 2 in the afternoon. He had a flight at 4 going to California. Around 5 I get a call from him. "Hello?" "Hey man, what are you doing tonight?" "Ummm, well right now I'm about to eat dinner. Why?" I was pretty confused. Why was he asking me if I had plans for the night, or operating his cell phone at 30,000 feet en route to California? "Feel like picking me up at the airport?" Aha! He missed his flight due to...being at the wrong terminal, it turns out. Apparently they have two gates with the same number and, for whatever reason, he didn't realize that there was not a plane waiting to take him to California at that gate. So I picked him up and then took him back to the airport this afternoon for his replacement flight. Three trips to the airport in 24 hours? Score! It's because I love paying tolls.

Perhaps it is only my naivete, but I did not know that Rihanna sampled Michael Jackson in "Please Don't Stop the Music." I was previously unaware, and now feel a bit sheepish. But it's okay sharing it with you, blog, because you journal all my secret thoughts. Oh wait.