Oy, what a day

I spent my day at work in a nine hour bankruptcy deposition. The case is really heartbreaking. The couple filing for bankruptcy only have $1.2 million left in assets and $129 million debt.Just let that sink in for a minute. Things have gotten so bad for them, they had to sell the horses, all three of their boats and almost all of their cars. They're down to only one home in the Portland area, in a lovely rural town on 20 acres, and a second home in Scottsdale. Other than that, they're broke.

Are you crying yet?

The most disheartening part of this entire scenario? I had on a cute cleavagey black and grey wrap dress with a sweater and both of the attorneys were (a) young women (b) super cute (c) and wearing suits with ruffled shirts. One had on a black suit with an ivory shirt and the ruffles were lace. The other had on wool pants with a light gray jacket and a dark gray ruffled tuxedo shirt underneath. One had a cute brunette pixie haircut and the other had curly red hair, like the bad vampire girl in the Twilight movies.

FEELING FRUMPY, WHO? My hair felt very sensible and the combination of wrap dress with sweater went from cute to tragically slutty grandma.

Also? When did the attorneys get younger than me? And doctors? And dentists?

Not cool. At all.

PS: When did the ruffled shirt become a fashion trend? And why do I not have one?

FASHION UPDATE: So I had day two of the same case today. Pixie lawyer had on grey wool dress with black blazer, black tights and lace-up booties. Twilight vampire lawyer had on black slacks, a grey ruffled tuxedo shirt and a jean jacket and a ton of huge jewelry. I WANT TO BE COOL. I WANT TO BE HIP AND TRENDY. Bitches.

The Sick Kid Blues

Yesterday was my first day back to work. At my new job. Which I started on Feb. 1, worked five days, and then had three weeks off. How much do you want to hire me right now? (Technically, I worked four days, had two weeks off, then worked one day and had another week off. Does that make me less of a loser?)

Of course, it could not have been an easy and uneventful transition from lollygagging to working. Of course not. No, Carlie had to stay home from school. She now has the stomach ick, the ick that knocked Tim on his ass for an entire week. The ick that put me in the hospital for 24 hours.

Setting aside the issue of "working mom leaving sick kid home alone" guilt, this is NOT a good time for Carlie to be sick. Last night was her one shot only interview to get into the Vancouver School of Arts and Academics in the fall. I did what any good mother would do. I let her sleep all day, then gave her a false sense of "I'm not sick anymore" by pumping her full of gatorade and meclizine and dropping her off for the THREE AND A HALF HOUR interview process.

In my defense, she begged to go. She swore she was up to it. Who am I to argue with an 11 year old (insert sarcasm here).

She seemed to rally about an hour before the interview, was eating Goldfish crackers, watching You Tube videos, laughing and stressing over wardrobe choices. Ah, the sweet feeling of false recovery thanks to temporary acting medication.

She survived the full THREE AND A HALF HOURS, but looked a little worse for the wear when I picked her up. Wherein "worse for the wear" = OMG what kind of mother am I? this child is obviously ill.

She is taking another rest day today. Because tomorrow? OUTDOOR SCHOOL. Outdoor school is a 3-4 hour bus ride to a camp, where they will do fun outdoorsy schooly stuff for three days before coming home. A three day field trip. If she has to miss that, she will be devastated.

So another day of resting and pushing fluids. For her. But not for me.

Because, hello, just took three weeks off of my new job and CANNOT POSSIBLY CALL IN SICK AT THIS POINT.

In other news around town today:

Our sure thing buyers for our house have officially fallen through.

I have two house showings scheduled for this weekend and have been getting lots of calls, so I think (hope) the market might be picking up a little bit?

I have a 30% off your entire purchase at Kohls. I am not even the biggest Kohls fan, but for some reason this has me giddy.

I do believe I am 100% recovered from my medical ordeal otherwise known as February. And also? About five pounds lighter for my efforts. I know, it's kind of a drastic weight loss program. But still. Five pounds.

What I've been up to this week

Don't you hate it when life gets in the way of the blog? I know I do.

This week is Catholic Schools Week, which is kind of like a ghetto version of what would be Spirit Week at your child's school. I say ghetto because it's not as fabulous as one might hope and there are only two of the five days that kids actually get to "dress up" and forego their school uniforms.

Monday was "Super Hero" theme day. So Sunday was my sewing day, because Disco Girl needed a cape.

You must click to enlarge so you can behold the itchy splendor of the silver polka dotted lame' fabric. And how do you like that "D" for Disco Girl handiwork on the shirt? My skill with electric tape knows no bounds.

Tuesday was my Rotisserie Chicken of the week day. I made a delicious Classic Chicken Casserole and chronicled it on my food blog. We had it for dinner again tonight. Scrumptious. Try it.

Saturday was Carlie's school auction. Just got the final numbers today and we earned $117,000 after paying the bills, which is extremely excellent. I spent the day Saturday working on set up at the Hilton. The event was beautiful.

I did three donations this year. One of them is hosting our annual Casino Night party, which will be in April. People sign up for that at the auction and pay to attend. We host it with two other couples and it is always great fun. My second donation was a New Orleans themed basket. OMG I HAVE NOT EVEN TALKED ONCE ABOUT THE SAINTS GOING TO THE SUPER BOWL. Holy Shit. Have you guys heard, THE SAINTS ARE GOING TO THE SUPER BOWL! Behold the wonder of my basket...
The basket is so full of cool shit that you cannot even see the six-pack of Dixie Voodoo Lager, the two bottles of rum, the Cafe Du Monde coffee, the pilsner glasses or the hurricane glasses. The entire thing was packed up in a beverage tub. This basket? Was the bomb.

My third donation is a pot of gumbo delivered to the home of the lucky high bidder on Super Bowl Sunday, you know, so they can enjoy it while THE SAINTS PLAY IN THE EFFING SUPER BOWL.

The auction theme was Midnight Masquerade. I look like shit in this picture. As harsh as I am as my own critic, I can assure you that I did not look this horrible all night. It's just a crappy picture. With my mask on my head. Like a dork.

Because I was on the set up crew, I was at the Hilton from 8:00 a.m. until the event started at 5:00 p.m. At 4:30, I afforded myself the luxury of having my hair professionally done. A team of professional hair doers were set up in the volunteer suite and had appointments booked to beautify party-goers.

$20 per "beauty treatment" (hair do, fake eyelashes or makeup) and they donated a portion of it to the school. So for $20, I got my hair done. IN A PONYTAIL. EXACTLY THE SAME WAY I WEAR IT EVERY FRIGGIN DAY. Lame ass who?

Also, want to know what was really fabulous? I put on my makeup, put on my auction outfit and went into the hair suite. First question, "Do you want us to do you make up for you?" Second question, "What are you wearing to the auction?" Yeah. Awesome.

And also on the "things that kept me away from my blog" front this week, I started my NEW JOB on Monday. And damn it, I forgot to lose 15 pounds so I could fit into my professional wardrobe. Crap! I knew I was forgetting something.

Here's a picture I posted on Facebook as I was leaving for my first day of working for The Man. Do you like my ponytail? I did this one myself. FOR FREE.

Off to visit blogs and see what everyone else has been up to : )

Wish me luck... whatever that means

Note that "ponytail" does not include gray roots and split ends

Today at 1 p.m. I am going on a job interview. Did you hear me? I said I AM GOING ON A JOB INTERVIEW. I have been self-employed since 1995. And also? I have a hippy momma ponytail as my "professional" look. Yeah, this is going to be swell.

Ever since Tim has joined me in the ranks of the self-employed, it has become increasingly clear that one of us needs to have a "real" job, wherein "real" = benefits and paychecks on a regular schedule. Because paying for our family's health insurance independently, without benefit of a group, SUCKS IT HARD. And collecting accounts receivable on a you-get-paid-when-they-finally-pay-you basis is not particularly conducive to running a household.

So, the pros and of taking a job for a court reporting firm, as opposed to continuing in my freelance self-employed status.

PRO:
Paychecks on a regular schedule
Paying less for health insurance and getting better coverage
No longer having to do my own billing and account collections
No longer having to do my own transcript production

CONS:
Working for someone else and all that that implies
Working more hours per week*

*This one is dual-edged. It is a "con" in the sense that I will need to be committed to working every day, which totally cramps my style when it comes to all of the volunteering and crafting and going to lunching that I currently enjoy. BUT it's actually a "pro" when you factor in that the reason I am doing so much volunteering and crafting and going to lunching is because I don't have enough freelance work.

So I'm off to a job interview. For a job I am borderline interested in and which has the potential to totally cramp my style. I would say "wish me luck," but I'm not exactly sure what the lucky thing would be right now. I know! Wish that I find a bag of money in the street on my way to the interview. And that my hair morphs into something cute magically and of its own accord without me having to (a) choose a hairstyle (b) make a hair appointment or (b) spend $120 for a hair cut. Yeah. Wish that.

PS: Remind me to tell you about my batshit freak out at Target and how I have broken up with Target, forever, in a gigantic blaze of glory.

UPDATE: I was dazzling and, pretty much, the job is mine if I want it. I now need to decide if I want it. And if I do, how soon can I start. *Immediately* was bandied about. I gots some thinkin' to do.

UPDATE, THE DAY AFTER: It is possible that I have overestimated my own dazzlingness, because they have not called.

UPDATE III: The overestimation of my dazzlingness was premature and uncalled for. Turns out, I AM DAZZLING after all. Got the job offer. Took the job.

Multitasking

I am learning so much at work this week! First, I had no idea that shooting rats, it is a sport, is what it is.

And now? Come to find out, attorneys? They're just like us. They need to multitask and sometimes hold down more than one job at a time. Today's deposition took place at an attorney's office. His office, where he also runs his other business, his U-Haul rental business. And out back? A garage installing trailer hitches and roof racks such on vehicles. It was a bit noisy, wherein noisy means, seriously? you think I can hear anything you are saying over that hydraulic tool sounding thing?

And inside? A freaking treasure trove of stuff. We all know I like stuff. But this guy? He is the King of Stuff (all hail). Ships in bottles, ceramic wishing wells, religious icons and a conference room devoted to all things Native American. I complain about the fact I have to work. But my job? Sometimes can be interesting, wherein interesting means what the fuck, people?

My view from the conference table.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to take a picture of someone's office without them knowing? Very. But I? Am sneaky like that, wherein sneaky means I don't care if you see me taking a picture of your stuff, because anyone with a display like this? obviously wants it to be noticed.

This juggling? It's a talent, I tell you

I have been bogged down yet again, juggling work, kids and life in general. But I have so many exciting things to write about, I'll have to carve out the time.

Exciting things like the INSANITY of soccer tryouts for 10 year old girls in a TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR. And how pathetic and lame I am at gardening. Oh, and I've gained two pounds, can't forget that one. Oh, and almost forgot that I ran seven miles on Sunday. And yet? Still managed to gain that two pounds. Which makes it even that much more remarkable.

I shall return, blogosphere. And when I do, oh, the tales I will tell.

and it is not even National Cleavage Day UPDATE: It's official, I am whacked

Imagine my surprise when I left work, went to the post office and saw my reflection in the glass door as I am walking into the post office. Seriously. And it's not even National Cleavage Day. My bad.

In news unrelated to me being slutty, I am THISCLOSE to registering for a Half Marathon on June 7. Even if you don't run, click on the link and tell me if it doesn't look like the BEST TIME EVER. Except for, like, the running 13.1 miles part. But still.

UPDATE: I just registered for the half marathon. Pray for my soul.

UPDATE 2: Fuck! As soon as I paid for the race and went to book the hotel, I learn the hotel is booked full. Did I mention... fuck!

UPDATE 3: There's another hotel right next door, but the dickhead desk guy is only booking for two nights on marathon weekend, not single nights. DICKHEAD.

UPDATE 4: OK. Booking a room three blocks away in what appears to be a quite seedy "inn" with no views and "locking bathrooms just down the hall."

UPDATE 5: Praise the Lord, the no tell motel had a room with an "in suite private bath" as opposed to the "locking bathrooms just down the hall." So I booked it. It's official. I am running a half marathon June 7.

Eyebrow Update and oh so much more

And in eyebrow news... red and scabby. Sexy! You know what makes it even prettier? The thick layer of goopy antibiotic ointment slathered on my eyelids. Am I making you hot? OK. I'll stop now.

I'm sitting on my ass cruising blogs, kind of like the guy playing violin on the Titanic as the ship sinks. So much to do that I've hit my saturation point and gone into shut down mode. It's how I roll. The more I need to get done and the closer the deadline looms, BAM, I pull the covers over my head.

Case in point: portions of my house are in complete shambles. We've been painting baseboards and doors (and by "we" I mean Tim, because painting? uck). Normally shambles doesn't bother me too much when it is controlled chaos, like painting projects or room relocation. There's just going to be a level of crazy until the project is done. The flaw in this zen-like approach to housekeeping hits a snag though when faced with the fact that I have 30 GUESTS coming TOMORROW EVENING for a Viva Las Vegas Casino Night fundraiser for Carlie's school.

Wait to the last minute much?

Projects for the day: clean bathrooms, sweep/mop/vacuum floors, deep clean the kitchen.

Projects for tomorrow: assemble blackjack tables, set up poker tables, stock the bars and help with food prep (thank God I have a friend doing the bulk of the food prep).

Yesterday was Take Your Child To Work Day. I'm a court reporter, and most of the attorneys I know, along with their clients, would be less than amenable to having a 10-year-old sit in on their private legal proceedings. Tim is a child and family therapist. Again, not exactly a job conducive to having your child sit in at work while a family comes in to spill their guts.

So we found a good compromise. I took Carlie to the Clackamas County Juvenile Center. We got to visit the courtroom where family court and juvenile drug court is held. She got to meet the judge, who could not have been more fun and gracious. She got to see the holding rooms where kids are detained, got a demo of how kids are put into leg shackles if they're dangerous and she got to meet lots of people that work with her dad (the family therapist for the juvenile drug court program).

After the court tour, we went out to lunch and trekked home. Carlie got her homework done and then I took her to the soccer kick around. (The kick around is a practice with coaches to prepare for try-outs.) It was for ages 10-13. She appeared to be the only 10 year old there this time. Everyone else was definitely bigger and looked older, more mature, more experienced.

The coaches work with what they've got, and apparently they had a good group of more experienced girls and decided to really push them. I don't know because I was sitting in my car on the other side of the building proofreading, not watching the practice. An hour and a half later, when practice ended, I was walking to the car with Carlie and she started to cry.

After a bit of tearful I don't want to talk about it drama, a bath and dinner, the crux of the heartbreak was that (1) the coach yelled (at everyone, not Carlie specifically) and the other girls don't want to be her friend.

Someone's little hormones are kicked into overdrive lately. Lord help us all.

On today's agenda, drill team practice with Carlie after school. Guess who's coaching the pompom squad, again? I don't know how I end up with these oddball volunteer jobs. But, hey, one more excuse to not clean bathrooms, right? I'm also hosting a little three-woman birthday celebration tonight for a girlfriend where we'll be watching this week's episode of Rescue Me.

Have I mentioned how much more productive I would be if I weren't addicted to television? Oy.

UPDATE: It is almost noon and I am just now putting down the computer and turning off the TV. I am defective.

The Dishes Are Staying

So I decided to keep the dishes. They're pretty. I'll never use them. But after all of the decluttering, I'm starting to feel the need to HANG ON TIGHTLY to a few things. And so the dishes are staying. Thanks for all of the helpful suggestions!

If anyone knows anything about china, I'd love to try to figure out how old these are. They are "Rose China," Dalton pattern. From what I have learned via google, Noritake manufactured under the name Rose China following WWII briefly. Could these dishes be that old? If so, they they were handed down to Tim's mom. Would love to figure that out but hit a brick wall on it.

Work has been insane this week. Very busy. My work is done in a two-step process. Step one, I go to a deposition and, using my stenography machine, "write" down everything that is said. Step two, I type up the transcript, edit it, proof read it, bind it and provide it to the attorneys. Not every deposition goes to step two. Sometimes they'll hear what they need to hear in the depo, and then settle the case, or whatever, and there is no need to type it up.

So the week before last, I worked for two days on a deposition that was being translated for a non-English speaking witness. The attorney was too cheap to hire a court-certified translator, so he used a friend who speaks Chinese as his translator. Knowing how to speak a language is NOT THE SAME THING as knowing how to be a translator, and the whole deposition was a huge clusterfuck, amounting to an insane amount of time of me sitting there, playing solitaire on my laptop, while conversations that should not have been taking place where being conducted, in Chinese.

This depo did not go to Step 2. Not because the attorney doesn't need it, but because he's too cheap to pay for the transcript.

Since that day, he has called FOUR TIMES asking for parts of the deposition to be READ TO HIM over the PHONE. Rather than pay to have the thing typed up. I AM ABOUT TO LOSE MY SHIT OVER THIS. There are 400 plus pages of testimony, and he's calling up with questions like, "Remember when I asked her about bank account No. 1234 and she said she was the joint holder? Can you tell me exactly what she said?"

I wasn't going anywhere with this story other than to say I AM LOSING MY SHIT over this attorney. That's all. CHEAPSKATE.

I hate that I have hours and hours of work to do today, on a Saturday. Blech. But before I chain myself to the computer, I am going to haul some goodies to a friend's garage sale, then go to a 30-minute "core" class followed by 60 minutes of yoga. Because? The marathon training group is kicking my ass and I need to do something to step up my game. Also? People who strive to run 26 miles apparently are all a little bit nuts. Who knew?

On the soccer front, my post about tryouts was cut short because I was doing it on my phone from the soccer field and started talking to another parent. But the "fearless" part of the deal is the fact that it's a different soccer club, so Carlie is going in cold, as opposed to playing with all of her usual soccer friends. She has three workout sessions per week for the rest of April, then tryouts the first week of May. One of my favorite things about Carlie is that she is fearless. She saves all of her neuroses for bedtime,  but in the light of day she's that kid that bolted from the car to the classroom the first day of school while a few others clutched their mom's legs and cried.

Having been a mom to both kinds of kids, the bolt to class and the cling and cry variety, I have to tell you, man, is it so much easier with the first v. the latter.

And lest anyone think I am pushing my young child too hard to be competitive, let me reassure you that I am not. I don't know where it's coming from, but she is all about being on a competitive team right now. She still has the option to play another year of "fun" soccer, but wants to go with the select team. She has been BEGGING to go back to cheerleading, but we are holding firm with a big NO on that front. Because competitive cheerleading? Is hardcore insane. We've done it twice (because we're stupid like that) and there is no way I am letting her talk me into that one again. I shall regale you with tales of insane cheerleading mommies another day.

Because Carlie goes to a Catholic school, they are always doing inspirational school projects, faith-based, and they post them on the walls of the school. Yesterday while I was there to pick her up, I checked her class bulletin board to see what her project was. Each child had written a paragraph about something that brings them joy. Horses were very popular, along with golden 

retrievers. Some kids said their friends, their pets, their favorite toys brought them joy. Here is Carlie's worksheet, photographed right on the school bulletin board: 

and in case you're not fluent in fourth-grade cursive, it says:

I AM JOYFUL WHEN I GO TO COMPETITION FOR STUFF LIKE SOCCER OR CHEERLEADING. AND EVEN IF I LOSE IT WAS STILL FUN!

Yes, I am sure this is exactly what the Psalm in question was talking about.

My 16-year-old doesn't like to be a big point of discussion on my blog, so I won't say a word about her, but I am just wondering if this has anything to do with it all.

UPDATE: Okay, I could not find the article to link to, but Erinna was highlighted in the newspaper as Athlete of the Week this week. Apparently it's only in print and not online, though. The article linked above features this little tidbit (but she is a sophomore, not freshman):

However, it was the sets that Lake Oswego won in singles and the victory by Erinna O’Brien at No. 4 singles that locked up the victory for the Lakers.

Lake Oswego coach Debbie Ford didn’t want to put too much pressure on O’Brien, a freshman but she knew that if she pulled the match out, the Lakers would likely win the match.

“I have full confidence in her. She’s going to be very tough to beat at fourth singles this year,” Ford said.

O’Brien got down early in the match but rallied quickly for a 6-3, 6-1 victory over Alex Loren.

It would be the only singles match Lake Oswego would win. Lakeridge’s first through third singles players were solid. Kathleen Preston tallied a 6-1, 6-3 win at first singles over Kelsey Edmondson while Callie Harling and Olivia Stark each prevailed in tough three-set matches at No. 2 and 3 singles.

A snapshot of my life for the last week

Things have been hectic, for no particular reason. Just busy and crazy and lots of shit to do and stuff going on and a major case of blog neglect. A few highlights, in no particular order.

We went to a wedding in Lincoln City and spent the night at a hotel, with no kids. Always a treat! It was cold and rainy for the most part, but gorgeous and bright at the actual time of the wedding, which was beautiful. The couple reminded me of these guys, and not at all of these guys, and that's all I'm saying about that. The wedding was gorgeous and heartfelt and beautiful.

My cholesterol is high. Doctor has tried to get me to take Zocor for months and I have fought it, and now I have given in and am taking the stupid pill every night. (Hello, middle age! Nice to meet you NOT). So the first two nights I take the pill before bed and, wow!, I actually got a decent night's sleep, twice in a row. It was a miracle, because I am the worst sleeper ever. The third night, I actually looked at the pill bottle and WHOOPSIE, I'd been taking Valium, not Zocor, before bed.

What else can I report? Carlie is on spring break this week. I have nothing fun planned, but I do have depositions two days so she'll not only have no spring break vacation fun, but will also get ditched twice. Best. Mom. Ever.

We've started Operation Rearrange the House. Which sucks. Majorly. Because? Cleaning and such. To recap our plan, Taylor has moved out of the house and Erinna is here every other weekend for one night, which basically leaves me, Tim and Carlie living on three floors and taking up every inch of space in four bedrooms and two living areas. Kind of ridiculous. So Tim and I are moving down to Taylor's old room and we're closing off the upstairs of our house, which is our master suite, which is a drafty attic conversion. And the master bathroom, which was a poorly done addition by a sucky contractor, has black mold issues, so we're going to gut the bathroom while we live downstairs and do an overall rehaul on the attic. Did I mention the contractor who did it 12 years ago did a shitty job? Yeah.

Long term plans: we're looking for another house in the neighborhood that we can downsize into, but that would mean selling our house, and the market, while PERFECT for finding a good deal on a smaller house, is not so hot for selling our house. So we're doing the projects that need doing with hopes of selling, but if we never sell, at least those projects that have been back burnered for the last, oh, 11 years, will be done.

So yesterday I sold Carlie's two twin beds, dresser and nightstand to someone on Craig's List and we moved her into the smaller bedroom with Maggy's double bed. What a chore. Carlie's room was such a sty. Now it is empty. There's something about a clean empty room that is unbelievably satisfying. And Carlie was definitely living large last night in the mile high princess bed with six pillows and a cat. Because every time we move anything in the house, the cat has to claim the "new" spot as her own.

We also spent TWO FREAKING HOURS yesterday cleaning the laundry room, which consisted of sorting towels and sheets. Apparently I have an obsession with sheet hoarding, because we had at least five sets of sheets for every bed in the house PLUS at least half a dozen sets of sheets for bed sizes we do not even own. WTF? And the towel situation was also quite out of control. Apparently there must have been a blackout period of my life when I decided to just buy new towels instead of wash the towels we already owned, because we had literally DOZENS OF BATH TOWELS in the laundry room, laundered and folded and stacked up on every surface because there were so many they didn't fit in the bathroom storage. I am, like, one click away from being that lady with fourteen cats and stacks of newspaper. No lie.

I am totally out of touch with Facebook and the blogs that I follow, so I am allowing myself one hour this morning to hit all of the hot spots and then I have to work. All day.

And on the work front, I am busy. Very busy. Are you tired of my constant hot/cold whining? That is the nature of being self-employed and working freelance. I am either OH MY GOD, THERE'S NO WORK, WE'RE ALL GONNA STARVE or I am OH MY GOD, I HAVE TOO MUCH WORK, I WILL NEVER GET IT DONE. It is a horrible, horrible way to live your life. If you have a steady job with a guaranteed paycheck and benefits, NEVER LET IT GO!

Oh, I almost forgot another major event in my life. I am cyber stalking Augusten Burroughs. I have attempted cyber stalking Augusten before, but I was kind of lazy about it. But this time, I am going full throttle. As God is my witness, August and I? We shall be BFFs. I swear it. I know he will love me and we will totally connect on a deep and meaningful level once I get his attention. We are soul sisters, even though he is gay and psychotic and I am for the most part a yuppie housewife. These things don't matter, for he and I are meant to be bonded in undying friendship.

So that's it for me. Off to start my day with some blog reading and cyber stalking, followed by proofreading and closet reorganizing. If all goes well, I won't be found hanging from the rafters by lunchtime.

UPDATE: I forgot! Also? This week? We babysat my nieces, ages 5 and 7, for two days and two nights. Quite undramatic, but a lot of fun. Carlie also had a friend stay over to "help" her babysit. Much nail painting ensued.

UPDATE No.2: Oh, and I also joined a running club, with a 27-week commitment to train for the Portland Marathon in the fall. HOLY CRAP. But my running is just dribbled down to next to nothing lately (3 or 4 miles once a week) and my weight is up, like 7 lbs from my trip to New Orleans and not going down. Again, can I just say Hey, Middle Age, F Off, would you?

UPDATE No. 3: The plan was read blogs from 7 to 8, then get to work. Just FYI, it is now 10 a.m. and I am putting down the Mac and exiting the bed.

UPDATE No. 4: Speaking of Middle Age, I just plucked a weird-ass wiry hair from the MIDDLE OF MY DAMNED FOREHEAD. What the hell, people? Also, I have moved from the bed/laptop to my desk/work computer. Progress!

I'm booooooored

I have been home with Carlie for a looooong time now. It started last week, when there was a noon dismissal on Friday. We had the weekend together. Then Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, she was home from school with a headache and tummy ache. And now? She's all better! But now? There's no school today or tomorrow for parent/teacher conferences. And then? It's the weekend.

And while she is a lovely girl with a fun personality and nice manners.... WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE!

Also, it is gorgeous and sunny outside, and I have a pile of proofreading to do, and a recently recuperated child chanting "Let's go do something, let's go do something." Which is not very conducive to work productivity. Unless your job is to be insane, in which case it would probably be very helpful.

Does anyone have any great ideas for occupying a 10-year-old child who has been stuck in the house for days on end and exhausted all of her self-entertaining options, WITHOUT CABLE TV, while I get some work done? Anything besides Nyquil, because we're out of that.

Not much doing around here

I prepared a delicious fajita feast. At 3 p.m. And now? I am starving. It's 8:30 p.m. Not sure what to do about that. Kind of late to eat, but kind of starving to not. Also? Gained 7 lbs while in New Orleans and no sign of it just magically going away now that I am home. Shit. And while we're sharing here, my interest in running has completely disappeared, which is not going to help with that whole 7 lb issue. Last diet related topic for the night: if I never see another Girl Scout cookie again, I'll be happy. Seriously. Tagalongs? The Devil's work.

I've started reading the Charlaine Harris Sookie Stackhouse books, the series that "True Blood" is based on. The books are pretty funny, filled with quirky southern characters and silly fun. I've read the first two so far. I think there are nine total? I've made a promise to myself that I will not get the third book until I am caught up on work. We'll see how that goes, because myself knows that my promises are kind of not worth anything.

I'm enjoying my Tivo'ed episodes of Lost, Heroes and 24. I have saved Dollhouse but haven't watched it yet. I've heard it was good, then heard it was eh-eh. Can't wait for Dancing with the Stars to start. I know how lame this makes me, but I shall wear my ballroom gilded lameness proudly.

I have no outside jobs scheduled this week, but lots of work-from-home jobs that need to get done. Also, Congress is back in session next week, so the opportunity to pick up extra work is there and I need to do it. I received ONE PAYCHECK for a total of $163 for the month of February. I have A LOT of outstanding invoices and people are not paying, which is total bullshit. Sometimes I really hate being self employed. Freelance? Sucks.

I have finally loaded all 400 +/- pictures from New Orleans onto Flickr. After doing so, I realized that I probably should have weeded them out a bit, because some are total crap. And repetitive. Oh well. And Flickr? Took FOREVER to get these things uploaded. Sheesh. I thought I had broken Flickr for a while there, but now it seems to be okay. Click here if you'd like to see all gazillion of the pictures. Please feel free to skim over the day I spent in my dad's warehouse photographing his treasures for some never-happening ebay sale.

We had a very quiet weekend. Just the way I like it. Sometimes. But too many of these in a row and I'll be whining about how boring we are. There is no pleasing me. I realize this.

When good things happen to so-so people

After my cautionary tale of do-goodery gone awry, I thought I'd toss out two good things that happened this week. To me. Even though my do-good level is only so-so.

Home from New Orleans Tuesday. Back to real life Wednesday. Back to real life included work for me and school for Carlie. But Carlie? Had a tummy ache and couldn't go to school. We discovered this in the hallway of said school at drop off time when she refused to go into her classroom.

As I am exiting the school WITH A CHILD, everyone is exiting the school WITHOUT CHILDREN, because, um, it's drop off time. (ASIDE: we have no buses. Every kid gets dropped off by a parent. And most parents park and walk the kids in as opposed to using the drop off lane.) I was obviously dressed for work (as opposed to in pajama pants or sweats, which would be my not going to work drop off attire). Where was I going with this? Oh. Two separate friends, who were leaving the school KID FREE for the day, offered to take my THREATENING TO VOMIT RIGHT NOW kid home with them so I could go to work. How nice is that? Seriously? I can barely handle my own THREATENING TO VOMIT child, much less a friend's sick child. Which makes both of those moms much better and kinder human beings than I, and I am thankful that I have friends like that.

Second nice thing that happened this week. After working Wednesday and Thursday, and not unpacking yet, and delivering girl scout cookies and not buying any groceries, we were effectively OUT OF EDIBLE FOOD in this house. Thursday 5:30 p.m. I am lamenting my foodlessness via text to a friend, along the lines of "argh! nothing for dinner! shit! do not want to go to store-am in pajama pants. shit!" And that friend? Came over and dropped off enchiladas for us for dinner. Just because she is swell like that and could see that I was in dinner-distress. Plus probably because she didn't want my child to starve, because she is also a good mother.

So even though there are wife-beating freaks amongst us, there are some groovy cool people out there too. And I am so lucky that so many of them are my friends.

PS: Thanks again, Kathy, for the enchies!

PPS: Um, no, I have not yet gone to the grocery store, but I am halfway unpacked.

Back to life, back to reality

I am home again, in my own bed, exhausted to my utter core and unable to button my pants. 

Turned on my Blackberry when on our layover in Houston and (long story short) I have depositions tomorrow, Thursday and Friday AND I have two "hold jobs" that called and ordered. Which = BUSY AS HELL. Yay, I need the work. But crap, I am tired and would really like to unpack, do laundry, regroup and watch shows on Tivo. Maybe next week? Also, my house? PIG STY. I need a couple of days just to work on cleaning. Ugh.

I put Carlie to bed at 7 p.m. She needed it. She cried on the plane when we left New Orleans. She wanted to stay. She wants to move. Why can't we move? It's so not fair. Then she started crying again when we landed in Portland. Because? LOOK AT IT! IT'S RAINING! IT'S RAINING! I HATE RAIN! And the second crying jag? Complete with an affected southern accent, which she still had as of bed time. More tears at bedtime, this time wondering if daddy could just come visit us if only she and I move to New Orleans. Oy, this kid.

I left my car in the shop while I was gone for a tune up. Got the tune up, an oil change and a transmission flush. And got the news that my transmission is leaking and needs repairs to the tune of $1600. OF COURSE IT DOES. Why would it not? This is my life.

Also, when we walked into the mechanic's shop to pick up my car, Fox News was on covering the shooting on St. Charles Ave. at today's Mardi Gras festivities. You guys, this is effed up. This shooting? This was not in the French Quarter or in a "rough" area where things are kind of dicey and people are drunk and partying and prone to stupid behavior. This was in a family friendly area, very near where we hung out for the parades, where crazy stuff like this doesn't happen. I have yet to watch the news and see the details but holy hell.

It's 8:30 p.m. and I am GOING TO BED. Alarm is set for 6:15 a.m. for Carlie's violin lesson, school drop off and morning depo. It's amazing how fast a vacation ends, isn't it?

Random things that I've neglected to keep you informed of... and contest winners!

My hair, after removing the updo.

Because I know that the minutia of my life is fascinating... NOT.

Carlie is in her second week of a fake ankle injury. She's being hopping around with her foot wrapped in an Ace bandage. How do I know it is fake? Because it only bothers her during PE and basketball practice, but not during spastically running around the house and choreographing her wicked dance moves for that show she is constantly putting on in her head. Also? Many ice packs have been involved.

Tim is having problems collecting money from insurance companies for clients that he sees (mental health industry) and has appointed me his enforcer, I mean collector. Can I tell you how much I love this job? Writing snarky letters and making threatening phone calls is right up my alley. And in case you didn't know: INSURANCE INDUSTRY IS A HUGE CLUSTERFUCK. I think half the rejections are total game-playing tactics to delay payment. I've also gotten to call on a few cash paying clients who didn't, um, pay their cash. Good times, people, good times. Thanks, GW, for the economy! Mu-wah!

Big date this weekend. Tim and I are driving out to the coast and spending the day Friday touring a cheese factory then Friday night going to a Styx concert. I am totally not making this up. That's our big date weekend. Cheese and 80s music. There will also be dinner and gambling at an Indian res. casino. And here's a shocker: Styx is playing at an Indian res. casino. Go figure. Domo Arigato, dude.

On the OH MY GOD NOOOOOOO front, my Blackberry is dying a slow death. The stupid little ball thing is working sometimes, not working sometimes. And it's not like a mouse on your PC, where if it doesn't work you can maneuver with arrows or whatever. When the Blackberry ball dies, you are screwed. So, I am screwed. I managed to bring it back to life last night, but it's acting up again today. So I am heading off to a Verizon store on the other side of town to score an open box but new blackberry for $20. There is a freaking Verizon store on every corner between here and there, but that's the only store with a $20 blackberry instead of a $120 blackberry, so here I come.

Also? Every Denny's near me has shut down, so I shall now be partaking of the free breakfast today. WHICH SUCKS IT. I know, it's Denny's. And Denny's? Ew. But still. FREE! But no Grand Slam for me. If you make it to Denny's for your free grand slam, let me know! Send a photo!

I don't think I mentioned that Tim and I have donated a Casino Night party as an auction item, and it sold out. So I now have 30 people heading to my house on April 25 to gamble and par-tay. We're cohosting with other friends, but it's at my house. Which means my house needs to get cleaned. We did this last year, and it was a lot of fun. Details to come soon.

What else? Oh, I ran 8.5 miles yesterday. And am not dead! At least mostly not dead. I actually ran eight then walked a half mile to cool down, but that half mile totally counts in the grand mileage scheme of things, so 8.5 it is. I need to be at 13.1 by the end of March for a half-marathon the first weekend in April. Oy vey.

And now for the contest winners. I said noon, but I have shit to do and won't be here at noon, so we're doing it on. We'll call it East Coast time, in which case I'm actually late! Sorry! I have three goody bags so I'm going to go with three winners. The number of bobby pins it took to hold the effing up do up? It was 26! And 26 was a popular guess! You guys obviously know a lot more about updos than I do, because I was guessing there were maybe a dozen of those suckers in there. But they just kept coming and coming and coming out, like clowns in a little car.

So my real life friend Kathy @ Karismar disqualified herself because she totally already knew how many bobby pins were in my hair. So the prizes are going to go to Holly @ Traveling Through Space and Time, who only guessed 20, but said she wanted to guess 26 before Kathy took that one! And to Anna See@ An Inch of Gray, who also wanted to say 26 but guessed 27, and to Becky @ Miss Priss, being the one true winner if there were only one prize with her guess of 25.

Also, the prize includes a beverage of an alcoholic nature, so if that is not your thing, tell me now and I'll swap it out with something else.

So I need a mailing address for Becky and for Anna. Please send to me at ShanaOB @ msn.com. Holly will just have to endure me in person (yay!) and I'll give Kathy a big runner-up smooch when I see her, probably today : ) Thanks for playing! This was fun. Now I'm obsessed with coming up with new games, something with as cool a name as "Guess What's In Sal's Pouch". Does anyone here listen to Howard Stern? If not, you won't know why that is funny. 

All righty, then. That's all I've got. Time to head to Verizon for my $20 phone. Ciao!

Punky Girl Update

Yep, she's all better. Go figure.

To celebrate, I let her go on a bike ride while I went for a run. We went a mile and a half and my shins were killing me. Runners? Help! I have new shoes (Sauconys, bought 1/2/09) and have broken them in pretty well (ran seven miles in them Saturday with no issues). But today? 1.5 miles and I feared I might never walk again. Shooting pain straight up the front of my legs, from the ankles to the knees. 

Dr. Internet, I need a diagnosis, STAT.

In addition to being miraculously healed of her stomach bug, Carlie has decided to become a vegetarian. This is the child who lives on lunchables. So this should be interesting. Did I mention she hates all vegetables? Yeah. Like I said, it'll be interesting.

I have 100 pages of proofreading to do and no interest at all in doing it. This could be a problem.

I think I've been punk'ed

Carlie stayed home from school today. She said she had a stomachache. And because everyone in her class has had this disgusting vomit inducing bug, I figured she was legit.

And she layed around in her jammies and dabbled at a little artwork and read a book.

But apparently she has been hording candy and chips in her bedroom and snacking away all morning, while I worried about her getting dehydrated and starving to death.

Hmmmm. If nacho cheese Doritos sound good to you, you are probably not that sick.

And at 1:30 p.m., which is the time I declare it is just not worth going to school because I only have to come right back and pick you up again, she felt better! Like a miracle cure!

She's lucky today was a work at home day for me, or I'd be kind of pissed right about now. Of course, if I challenge her sickness legitimacy, she can vomit on cue, so that won't really accomplish anything. On the payback side, I made her drink Pepto Bismol, which is so freaking disgusting. And to accidentally make it more disugsting? I bought store brand, and it had a cherry flavoring. Ew. Even the smell made me gag. So I'll call us even. This time.

And on the work from home today front, I want you to know that I BUCKLED DOWN and FOCUSED and did not visit any blogs or web sites until my lunch break at 2:00 p.m. That's what I call dedicated.

Now that I know the child is not going to perish while I am gone, I think I'll go for a quick three-mile run. Because that half marathon that I am doing in April? Yeah, kind of terrified about that whole thing lately. Like obsessing a little bit. Because 13.1 mile? WTF was I thinking? Why would anyone even want to run for that long?

Sick Day

It's 12:30 and I'm in bed, under the covers, eating soup and watching old episodes of Bones. Taking a sick day. Which would be totally awesome except for the being sick part. And the not getting paid part. This whole "be your own boss" thing falls apart when you remember that no work equals no pay equals vacation at your own risk and sick? what sick?

On that note, I made contact with a paralegal at one of the local firms via email, which said, "I have some Christmas treats to drop off at your office in order to ingratiate myself to the legal assistants and drum up work. What's a good day/time?"

So I'm heading over there Monday morning, armed with cookies, to try to sway them into putting me at the top of their court reporter list.

Please send good luck vibes and easy-but-tasty cookie recipes.

Sucks to be sick

The tickle in my throat that I was pretending did not exist? Yeah, it's now a full-blown head cold and/or sinus infection complete with hacking cough, 100 sneezes in a row, sinus headache and general feeling of crap. 

I tried to get out of work today, and couldn't. I felt bad, spreading my germs in the tiny conference room, so I dosed myself well with various OTC remedies and did not sneeze or cough once during the deposition. The witness? Yeah, that was another matter. He was coughing and hacking and generally spreading the plague to everyone within breathing distance.

When his depo was over, he said, "Can I leave now? My medicine is wearing off. I have the flu."

Yay.

Thinking out loud

Goal: to get more business from local attorneys.

I'm thinking that the fact I am right around the corner should be my biggest selling point. Why? Because I don't want to commute anymore. But why is that good for them? Because the less I travel, the better it is for the environment. Ergo, hire me and save the world.

Husband thinks this is a crock of shit and no lawyer worth his salt cares about the environment. I beg to differ. We live in the Pacific Northwest for God's sake, where you can be shot by firing squad for not recycling.

So here's the postcard I have dabbled with so far. I am totally open to input and critique. Tim says sure, send it, you've got nothing to lose. But that's not true. The last thing I want to do is get some name recognition, and the name being recognized for being a doofus. So please, save me from being a doofus and edit my freaking marketing materials. If you click on the postcard you should get a bigger, readable, version.

Thank you. I heart you all, people of the great and mighty Internet.