Currently, I am reading for PRE. That's Professional Responsibility and Ethics for people who aren't up on the law school awful yet required course lingo. This reading is only slightly better than what I ended up doing last night - going to the emergency room. Yup. Preface: I'm fine, don't worry. But I woke up around midnight with sharp chest pains that got worse when I took a breath. Let's talk about not fun - it's that. It made me really not want to have a heart attack. I did what any intelligent person of my generation does: WebMD. And boy, that website had a uniform answer for me. Every symptom I clicked on. Chest pain - go to the emergency room. Left side - go to the emergency room. Sharp pain - go to the emergency room. Worse when you breath - go to the emergency room. Alright, alright, I get it. So I spent 1 to 5 am at the emergency room. They ran some tests, determined it was nothing serious, and sent me home with a prescription for some serious ibuprofen. It's just a viral thing, it'll get better. I couldn't help but think "I'm young and I've never smoked...this just cannot be a heart attack."
Was that too personal? I mean...I'm fine! It was just an interesting experience. That needs to be documented for posterity, clearly. Still it's better than half the crap on the internet.
I signed on with the firm. It's go time. And I feel good about it.
Wham bam.
Pumpkin flavored things are fantastic. Which made it even more disappointing when the burger restaurant I went to on Saturday was out of all but one of their pumpkin beers (and octoberfests). They had an extensive beer menu and did flights of three beer samples. But I went through half the damn menu trying to find a beer that the waiter didn't immediately respond "We're out of that." Killing me. But the burger, topped with pulled pork and bbq sauce, was absolutely delicious. It made up for the pissy host who dragged our table closer to the busboy station, the waiter who flat out told our table he didn't want to be there anymore, and for the busboy who almost took out Ryan while trying to handle a tray of dishes.
And they serve a beer float! But of course they were out of the beer that goes into it. Darn it. Gotta remember how good that burger was.
Now I gotta go to sleep. Being awake from 12-6 am really takes it out of you.
Showing posts with label sickness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sickness. Show all posts
Monday, October 17, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Sorry, sorry, I've been sick. More posts to follow.
When you receive $8 in "CVS Extrabucks" you have shopped at CVS too much. I have to go back to buying Trader Joe's brand Rice Krispies, or as my roommate calls it, "poverty cereal." It's so cheap!
As the title indicates, I have basically just been sick this past week. It really sucks. Some day I will return to being a normal person with a normal immune system. But it isn't going to be this week. Today I am feeling a lot better, but that's little reassurance after feeling like crap for six days. I had to call in sick to my internship on Thursday and Friday. That looks really good in the second week.
Last week (the first week) at my internship was pretty good. With one notable exception. So things were going well Thursday and Friday morning. I had research to do, I started writing a memo, and I was generally diving into things. Then on Friday, at 10:30, an attorney from the office stopped by my office to chat. I know the time exactly because there was a time stamp on a message I was waiting to read. I thought it would be a getting to know you chat. Establishing a relationship, ya know, the good kind of chat. And it started out at way. Sort of. The attorney started out by complaining a little bit how some people are a little lazy and lax with their time. They put in the necessary hours and go home, but they don't have a fire to get their work done. Alright, I agree. The conversation moved on. I learned about his life, his law school, his jobs, his problems with the D.C. DMV, his opinions on former co-workers, and so on. I just responded and every once in a while got to say something that wasn't about him. I don't mind that attorneys like to talk about themselves. I mind when they talk about themselves for three hours. That's right, three hours. Three. I was looking at the clock. Around noon (one and a half hours into our "chat") I started getting hungry for lunch. My stomach started rumbling. It's my first week, so I can't exactly excuse myself for lunch. But I started sending him brain waves saying "Leave my office please." That didn't work. I must have sparked his interest with one of my witty, incisive comments (most of what I said was "Oh really?" "Uh huh" and "I see") because he talked for another hour and a half. Three hours of listening to him talk. Remember how the conversation began with him complaining about how some people aren't diligent about doing their work. Ironic, isn't it. Dude, you are an attorney. How do you have THREE HOURS to talk to me? I have work to do; I have a memo to write, and I don't have three hours to listen to your memoirs. What is going on here??? (<-- Three question marks. One for each hour I listened to him.) I was worried that my supervisor would think I was slacking off because every time he walked by my office all he saw was me talking to this guy! Go do some work! Finally, at 1:30 the attorney realized he had detained me for long enough and moved on. I scrambled to the kitchen to heat up my lunch. The rest of the day I rushed to get my memo out. Because from 10:30 to 1:30, I was not allowed to do work.
Also, the attorney said a lot of things I did not agree with. I spoke up about a lot of them, but he never responded well to me and generally pivoted around to ignore what I was saying. So that he could talk about himself some more. For example, hearing I was from Massachusetts, he was incredulous as to how we could elect Ted Kennedy so many times and essentially called him a bad politician. I responded that he was always popular in Massachusetts - he brought home the bacon, he reflected many people's beliefs, he was an institution, and he had the money and connections to keep getting elected. So the attorney pivots to Chappaquiddick. Real original, and has nothing to do with being a good or bad politician. When I pointed out that tons of politicians get reelected after major scandals (not that I'm a Chappaquiddick apologist), he just changed the subject. So after bashing Ted Kennedy without good reason, he just moves on to monopolize my time. Not great.
While I didn't enjoy it, that was easily the most amusing three hour period of my life in the past couple of weeks. Aside from that, it has been sickness, writing my moot court brief, and more sickness. Up for the rest of the weekend: writing my moot court brief and fending off sickness.
I hope everyone is doing well. Doing better than my health. It's in the 50's finally. Fall is here!
As the title indicates, I have basically just been sick this past week. It really sucks. Some day I will return to being a normal person with a normal immune system. But it isn't going to be this week. Today I am feeling a lot better, but that's little reassurance after feeling like crap for six days. I had to call in sick to my internship on Thursday and Friday. That looks really good in the second week.
Last week (the first week) at my internship was pretty good. With one notable exception. So things were going well Thursday and Friday morning. I had research to do, I started writing a memo, and I was generally diving into things. Then on Friday, at 10:30, an attorney from the office stopped by my office to chat. I know the time exactly because there was a time stamp on a message I was waiting to read. I thought it would be a getting to know you chat. Establishing a relationship, ya know, the good kind of chat. And it started out at way. Sort of. The attorney started out by complaining a little bit how some people are a little lazy and lax with their time. They put in the necessary hours and go home, but they don't have a fire to get their work done. Alright, I agree. The conversation moved on. I learned about his life, his law school, his jobs, his problems with the D.C. DMV, his opinions on former co-workers, and so on. I just responded and every once in a while got to say something that wasn't about him. I don't mind that attorneys like to talk about themselves. I mind when they talk about themselves for three hours. That's right, three hours. Three. I was looking at the clock. Around noon (one and a half hours into our "chat") I started getting hungry for lunch. My stomach started rumbling. It's my first week, so I can't exactly excuse myself for lunch. But I started sending him brain waves saying "Leave my office please." That didn't work. I must have sparked his interest with one of my witty, incisive comments (most of what I said was "Oh really?" "Uh huh" and "I see") because he talked for another hour and a half. Three hours of listening to him talk. Remember how the conversation began with him complaining about how some people aren't diligent about doing their work. Ironic, isn't it. Dude, you are an attorney. How do you have THREE HOURS to talk to me? I have work to do; I have a memo to write, and I don't have three hours to listen to your memoirs. What is going on here??? (<-- Three question marks. One for each hour I listened to him.) I was worried that my supervisor would think I was slacking off because every time he walked by my office all he saw was me talking to this guy! Go do some work! Finally, at 1:30 the attorney realized he had detained me for long enough and moved on. I scrambled to the kitchen to heat up my lunch. The rest of the day I rushed to get my memo out. Because from 10:30 to 1:30, I was not allowed to do work.
Also, the attorney said a lot of things I did not agree with. I spoke up about a lot of them, but he never responded well to me and generally pivoted around to ignore what I was saying. So that he could talk about himself some more. For example, hearing I was from Massachusetts, he was incredulous as to how we could elect Ted Kennedy so many times and essentially called him a bad politician. I responded that he was always popular in Massachusetts - he brought home the bacon, he reflected many people's beliefs, he was an institution, and he had the money and connections to keep getting elected. So the attorney pivots to Chappaquiddick. Real original, and has nothing to do with being a good or bad politician. When I pointed out that tons of politicians get reelected after major scandals (not that I'm a Chappaquiddick apologist), he just changed the subject. So after bashing Ted Kennedy without good reason, he just moves on to monopolize my time. Not great.
While I didn't enjoy it, that was easily the most amusing three hour period of my life in the past couple of weeks. Aside from that, it has been sickness, writing my moot court brief, and more sickness. Up for the rest of the weekend: writing my moot court brief and fending off sickness.
I hope everyone is doing well. Doing better than my health. It's in the 50's finally. Fall is here!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Radio Silence
Wow, so sorry for the radio silence. It's been...a lot. I was sick for a while in DC, then came up to Boston for a nice little vacation and ended up in the hospital for a few days. Dream vacation. Better than a cruise. No really, the hospital is less confining than a cruise ship, minus the whole being sick thing. At least there was no rocking. But there were vital sign check-ins every four hours. My favorite one was the regular 4 am check-in. It didn't lead to a lot of good sleep, let me say.
But now I am out and healthy(ish), regaining my energy and having a "real" vacation. I had to postpone my DC return, and in doing so I missed the DC earthquake. Too bad, I have never been in an earthquake. It sounds exciting. Added bonus: none of the stuff in my apartment broke or fell. My roommate reports that some of the pictures on my walls are askew. Damn you, earthquake! But really what is this, California? We don't have nearly enough actors to cause earthquakes in DC.
My time in Boston is going pretty well. I am just hanging out, relaxing...shootin' some b-ball outside of school. Alright, maybe not that. More like going to the outlets with Shaked and Ron and trying to convince Ron to buy argyle sweater-vests. But if you are in Boston and want to see me, I suggest you let me know. I'm looking at Erica right now. That's right, getting called out in a blog post. Which you may or may not read. I understand after the long silence, people may have thought I sunk after hitting an iceberg. Not the case. It's summer - there aren't icebergs. Idiot.
I'm sorry, but I really do not get the appeal of Mad Men. I am on the Season 1 finale, and there is still no concrete plot line. A lot of things just kind of happen. So what? Do people like it because it is breaking the traditional Aristotelian plot progression? I doubt it. Is it the 60's style? Or is it just that the actors look pretty? I just don't get it. And yet...I've watched season 1 and the question remains - why?
I wish that I had my class schedule figured out. But I don't. I would love to know how many credits my internship will give me. But why would the school want to tell me a silly thing like that? Oh yeah, I got an internship for this semester. It should be fun and more importantly minimize the time I have to spend in a lecture, reading a textbook, or taking a final.
In other news, I got an offer from my firm. It happened the same day I got out of the hospital. That was...a very good day. I don't think the impact of it has quite sunk in, but I am happy and consider myself very lucky. I would say the odds are about 95% that I will take it. Deep breath. Very lucky.
But now I am out and healthy(ish), regaining my energy and having a "real" vacation. I had to postpone my DC return, and in doing so I missed the DC earthquake. Too bad, I have never been in an earthquake. It sounds exciting. Added bonus: none of the stuff in my apartment broke or fell. My roommate reports that some of the pictures on my walls are askew. Damn you, earthquake! But really what is this, California? We don't have nearly enough actors to cause earthquakes in DC.
My time in Boston is going pretty well. I am just hanging out, relaxing...shootin' some b-ball outside of school. Alright, maybe not that. More like going to the outlets with Shaked and Ron and trying to convince Ron to buy argyle sweater-vests. But if you are in Boston and want to see me, I suggest you let me know. I'm looking at Erica right now. That's right, getting called out in a blog post. Which you may or may not read. I understand after the long silence, people may have thought I sunk after hitting an iceberg. Not the case. It's summer - there aren't icebergs. Idiot.
I'm sorry, but I really do not get the appeal of Mad Men. I am on the Season 1 finale, and there is still no concrete plot line. A lot of things just kind of happen. So what? Do people like it because it is breaking the traditional Aristotelian plot progression? I doubt it. Is it the 60's style? Or is it just that the actors look pretty? I just don't get it. And yet...I've watched season 1 and the question remains - why?
I wish that I had my class schedule figured out. But I don't. I would love to know how many credits my internship will give me. But why would the school want to tell me a silly thing like that? Oh yeah, I got an internship for this semester. It should be fun and more importantly minimize the time I have to spend in a lecture, reading a textbook, or taking a final.
In other news, I got an offer from my firm. It happened the same day I got out of the hospital. That was...a very good day. I don't think the impact of it has quite sunk in, but I am happy and consider myself very lucky. I would say the odds are about 95% that I will take it. Deep breath. Very lucky.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sneezes
(To the tune of "I Fought the Law")
I fought my cold and...I won?
Surprisingly, I managed to contain getting sick to one day. Two and a half containers of orange juice and two good night sleeps later, I am in fairly good health. I'm still a little sniffly, and I won't be running a marathon any time soon, but I would classify myself as 'healthy' rather than 'sickly.' Success! I hope I can maintain this. Ok, well I just sneezed twice. Wait. Three times. I hope this is not the beginning of anything more ominous. More OJ and sleep! Four times. Damn. That's rare.
Saturday night I ended up at an Irish bar with a live band featuring a guitarist, bassist, and singer/keytaurist who was clearly very Irish. They played some Irish stuff you would expect and encouraged people to do some Irish step. That felt a little like Boston, and I was proud to be Bostonian, though I am in no way actually Irish. But they also played other crowd pleasers...like "Dancing Queen"! You haven't heard the song the way it was meant to be until you've heard it sung by a keytaurist with a thick Irish accent. It was ridiculous. They played songs ranging from Dropkick Murphys (!!) to Johnny Cash. It was a Guinness-drinking good time. Until it turned out the Guinnesses cost eight bucks a pop and I considered doing the dine-and-ditch. What a rip off. Eh, the band maybe made it worth it. I just spend too much money. I have to start living off nothing but Pasta and water. But I need orange juice to not be sick, curses foiled again.
I was assigned to bring gravy for a Potluck Thanksgiving tonight. Vegetarian gravy. Now I have never cooked gravy before, and especially not vegetarian gravy, so I knew that if it was going to taste moderately acceptable I would have to work on it. That's why I went to Whole Foods yesterday (found out where Whole Foods is in the process, that's a handy bit of information) to get the necessary ingredients, aka vegetable stock and herbs. Cooking gravy, it turns out, isn't that complicated. It starts out with making roux, which is basically just oil and flour in order to cook the flour. Well I am used to cooking on an electric stove which heats up considerably more slowly than the gas stove which I currently use. The result was that the oil got a lot hotter than I anticipated and when I put the flour in it basically exploded on me. Bam, smoke and burning everywhere. I threw the pot onto the balcony and had to cook onions to get the burning smell out of the apartment. My roommate loved it, don't worry. The second attempt was more successful, in that it made something like gravy, in that it looked like gravy but tasted like...nothing. Third attempt I decided to ditch the vegetable oil and use good ol' fashion fattening butter instead. Throw in some freshly ground peppercorn and thyme to the gravy and it actually came out tasting good. I'm not saying it was the best gravy that ever happened, but it was pretty darn good considering there was no dead animal drippings involved. And in regular gravy it is the dead animal drippings that give it the delicious flavor you so desire on Thanksgiving. Enjoy that thought at Thanksgiving dinner. "Aunt Joanna, would you like some dead animal drippings on your mashed potatoes?" Aunt Joanna will love it. Who is Aunt Joanna? Who is John Galt? Who is Ayn Rand?
I fought my cold and...I won?
Surprisingly, I managed to contain getting sick to one day. Two and a half containers of orange juice and two good night sleeps later, I am in fairly good health. I'm still a little sniffly, and I won't be running a marathon any time soon, but I would classify myself as 'healthy' rather than 'sickly.' Success! I hope I can maintain this. Ok, well I just sneezed twice. Wait. Three times. I hope this is not the beginning of anything more ominous. More OJ and sleep! Four times. Damn. That's rare.
Saturday night I ended up at an Irish bar with a live band featuring a guitarist, bassist, and singer/keytaurist who was clearly very Irish. They played some Irish stuff you would expect and encouraged people to do some Irish step. That felt a little like Boston, and I was proud to be Bostonian, though I am in no way actually Irish. But they also played other crowd pleasers...like "Dancing Queen"! You haven't heard the song the way it was meant to be until you've heard it sung by a keytaurist with a thick Irish accent. It was ridiculous. They played songs ranging from Dropkick Murphys (!!) to Johnny Cash. It was a Guinness-drinking good time. Until it turned out the Guinnesses cost eight bucks a pop and I considered doing the dine-and-ditch. What a rip off. Eh, the band maybe made it worth it. I just spend too much money. I have to start living off nothing but Pasta and water. But I need orange juice to not be sick, curses foiled again.
I was assigned to bring gravy for a Potluck Thanksgiving tonight. Vegetarian gravy. Now I have never cooked gravy before, and especially not vegetarian gravy, so I knew that if it was going to taste moderately acceptable I would have to work on it. That's why I went to Whole Foods yesterday (found out where Whole Foods is in the process, that's a handy bit of information) to get the necessary ingredients, aka vegetable stock and herbs. Cooking gravy, it turns out, isn't that complicated. It starts out with making roux, which is basically just oil and flour in order to cook the flour. Well I am used to cooking on an electric stove which heats up considerably more slowly than the gas stove which I currently use. The result was that the oil got a lot hotter than I anticipated and when I put the flour in it basically exploded on me. Bam, smoke and burning everywhere. I threw the pot onto the balcony and had to cook onions to get the burning smell out of the apartment. My roommate loved it, don't worry. The second attempt was more successful, in that it made something like gravy, in that it looked like gravy but tasted like...nothing. Third attempt I decided to ditch the vegetable oil and use good ol' fashion fattening butter instead. Throw in some freshly ground peppercorn and thyme to the gravy and it actually came out tasting good. I'm not saying it was the best gravy that ever happened, but it was pretty darn good considering there was no dead animal drippings involved. And in regular gravy it is the dead animal drippings that give it the delicious flavor you so desire on Thanksgiving. Enjoy that thought at Thanksgiving dinner. "Aunt Joanna, would you like some dead animal drippings on your mashed potatoes?" Aunt Joanna will love it. Who is Aunt Joanna? Who is John Galt? Who is Ayn Rand?
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