A mouse in the house

under the sink, I think.

Or so thinks Gidget. She can smell it. And she's going nutz. Completely fixated. Won't be distracted by anything -- not even my eating cookies in front of her. She's whining and very concerned and keeps sniffing around at the baseboards of the cupboards. She also keeps standing up on her hind legs to sniff higher and look on the counters. She's very agitated.

But I'm not pulling everything out from under the sink to hunt down the mouse. That's SM's job.

This made me bawl

The story about Toby Dawson, Olympic bronze medalist in the men's moguls. Korean-adoptee who had supposedly been abandoned by his family in South Korea but was actually lost, separated from his mom when they were out shopping. Adopted by an American couple and brought to the US.

What a nightmare for the parents. All of them. But Toby was reunited with his biological father after family in South Korea recognized him as looking just like his father. What a tear-jerker of a story, especially this part:

Mr Dawson gave his father a skiing sweater and told him in Korean: "I've been waiting a long time, father".

I can't even begin to imagine the turmoil of emotions that he and all of his parents must have experienced.

Oh my.

Remember my budget-busting bravado?

Earlier this month, I posted -- and boasted -- about keeping to a $600/month spending diet. This excluded all of my fixed costs such as mortgage, insurance and cell phone, but it did include all my food, transportation and frivolous purchases (of which I purchase many).

Well, I have a week to go on this. The last day of the count-down is March 6th. As of today, I'm in the red. By about $65 -- which I will make up in the next few days to finish, hopefully, in the black.

Why the red?

Ebay auctions on things I collect. A 50th birthday celebration for some friends. Hosting the book club and promising to make Japanese food (the ingredients run more, even though I had many of them on hand). And a Christmas present for my dad (yes, that would be Christmas 2007). You might notice that there is no Valentine's Day expenditure in there. Yes, I am a horrible girlfriend. SM spend $150 for our Valentine's Day dinner, even though he is doing this little $600/month thing too. He doesn't spend anything on Ebay or himself, though, so I have every confidence that he'll end up in the black. Yes, I got him nothing. I'm horrible. Oops.

However, notice that other than the Ebay excursions, I have not spent any $$ on myself. I have limited my eating out, and I engaged in no retail therapy. So even though I may finish in the red (although I still maintain that I'll stay under budget in the end), I really took it easy on the plastic this month. My credit card bills are teeny compared to normal. Yay!

I'll report out my final number on March 7th, after this little experiment is over. Then I'll start it again for March.

Hang tough!

For those of you who are on day 2 of the bar or just starting today -- hang in there! I've got my fingers crossed for ya' to get through this with as little pain as possible.

It's official.

I truly, truly have nothing to do at work. My boss is on vacation, so she hasn't been handing things off for me. And I haven't been here long enough to have a backlog or have people know me to approach me directly with work.

I guess I could read policy and other background stuff. I guess. Or I could surreptiously read my book.

Or I could continue searching for real estate online. Been doing that for several days now. I've come to the point where there are no more houses that I'm interested in. We've seen every place in Takoma Park (where SM lives and we'd like to buy) in our price range and many in Silver Spring and Rockville. It's discouraging what's out there. Really. bad. stuff. In fact, we have a "top 5 horrors" list. You don't wanna know.

Anyway... also the other thing is, my fellow attorney (no supervisory but senior) is out tomorrow and Thursday, so I will really have absolutely nothing to do those days. Hmmm...

Very weird for me.

Positive vibes for all ya'll!

I know that the count-down is over. The packing and driving to the hotel has begun. The nerves are jangling more than bling on a rapper. And you probably want to throw-up.

I can't help you with that. Sorry.

But what I can do is wish everyone who is about to submit him/herself to the agony of the bar the VERY BEST LUCK -- for questions you know or can figure out quickly, quiet fellow bar-takers and a strong, undemanding bladder.

Lots of positive vibes going out to all of you! Good luck!!! Hang tough for the next coupla' days -- and see you on the other side where there is light and happiness and overwhelming relief.

What happened to the movie stars?

I watch the Oscars as much for the fashion and gorgeous clothes as I do the awards themselves. For the most part, I was fairly pleased with the Academy's choices for the major awards. But then again, who am I to say? I didn't see a single nominated movie... oh, except for An Inconvenient Truth -- oooh, sexy, I know.

My biggest complaint was where were the movie stars? The Hollywood glamour elite? Ya' know... Halle Berry, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, George Clooney, Renee Zelleweger, Denzel Washington, etc...? Okay, we got Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon and Leo DiCaprio, but otherwise, it was slim pickin's for the usual fashion divas.

So, in that respect, I was a bit disappointed, and I give the Oscar show a B.

More house-hunting today

Although we're still waiting on the house we made an offer on... the negotiations continue to continue. I'm still hopeful, but also not holding my breath. And I'm being realistic.

Sadly, I haven't seen anything that I really, really like. Wait, correction. I saw a farmhouse that was in our price range that I LOVED, but it was snatched up (with a contract) before we could even get in to see it. Poop.

And I love this house...but I think it's overpriced for the area. I don't want to buy a house that is maxed on its value. I want a house with some equity. (If you want to see more about the house above, go here.)

So we continue to look. And look. And look.

Bookmark -- to read later

Article in the NYT: Korean Men Use Brokers to Find Brides in Vietnam

Interesting confluence of social, economic and cultural interests at play. Sounds like it might be a similar phenomenon as Japanese farmers (men) looking to China and the Philippines for wives. Sadly, the situation is rife with potential landmines for the couple. The women, especially, are vulnerable (language issues, limited legal rights, access to money, social isolation, etc.).

To an American, this may sound like a really bad idea, but I wonder if it works in Asia where marriages are viewed more as social, not emotional, contracts? I guess it will take time to tell.

Question: what is Madagascar?

Answer: why most people buy hybrids.

Heh. I wish I could say that this little gem was an invention of my 10 year old niece or even my six year old nephew. But alas, no. I came up with it.

It's been that kind of day.

"How I killed 20 minutes on a slow workday"

or "That hasn't happened to me since junior high school...!"

Caution -- TMI alert. Here's another installment of "things you could have lived without knowing about She says".

I warned ya'. Seriously.

Today has been deadly slow. Not much work; not much jabbering with co-workers; lots of surfing the internet.

Not that that has anything whatsoever to do with how I killed 20 minutes.

It was in the bathroom.

No, not that. But not too far off. Literally.

I went to the bathroom and realized I had a "leak". Yes, I have my period, and I leaked. You know what I mean. Almost every woman has had this experience (and Denise, I promise you that you aren't missing out on this one). Leaked in a way that I haven't done since junior high school... meaning, through my pants and prominently displayed. On the front.

(I warned ya'.)

My red badge of courage. My scarlet letter (that would be "O"). Crimson tide. You get the picture.

So what to do? I can't walk around the office with this blot on my record. Or my pants. Fortunately for me, I am wearing washable (= cheap) pants. Unfortunately, they are grey, so ministrations and soap are definitely required.

What else could I do? So I dropped my drawers in the handicapped stall in the bathroom and proceeded to work to get the red out. Out damned spot. Out!

I spent a good 20 minutes bent over my pants (which for some reason, I didn't take off, so I had them gathered around my knees and worked on them standing up). Rather than take them to the sink, I used paper towels to blot and scrub and blot some more. Luckily for me, no one came in to use that bathroom. I think I was partially visible through the space at the side of the door. Also, I was able to blot most of the water out of my pants so they are mostly dry, and I didn't end up with a large wet spot.

Yes. Down there. That would have been just trading in one issue for another.

Although I now see that I missed a bit, I was able to get out most of it such that I can now appear in public without being overly concerned about the stain on my career. But now I've got a soggy crotch.

Yes, indeed. I have a soggy crotch.

It ain't all that easy being a woman sometimes.

Oops, I did it again..!

No, I did not shave my head or any such nonsense. And I'm not blogging about that particular bit of nonsense.

What I did -- or rather what I didn't -- was blog about February 19th, a.k.a. "Day of Remembrance" for the Japanese American community. This year was the 65th anniversary of the day that FDR signed the pesky little Executive Order 9066 which sent the West coast Japanese American community to internment camps for much of World War II... my almost 4-year old father included (he may have been a wagamama but he certainly wasn't a security risk). That the 65th anniversary fell on President's Day, a day we celebrate our history and shared democratic values... well, that just adds to the irony mine.

And I didn't blog about Mardi Gras today and the state (pun intended) of NOLA generally.

Oops.

But I did think about both. Hopefully my typing will catch up with my thinking soon. But no guarantees. I'm a slow typist.

Introducing my new nephew

born Saturday February 10 @ 8:57 am. Watch out world, here he comes!

Monkey see, monkey do...

(oh, aren't I just so clever? Monkeys amuse themselves easily, don't we?)

I saw Zuska's post about her and her beloved's horoscopes for the year, so I decided to look up mine and SM's too.

Monkey : 1920, 1932, 1944, 1956, 1968, 1980, 1992, 2004
Monkey will be invited to share the fullness of the table. This year will bring good fortune in business but monkey tends to rush to finish and the pig is a slow, detail minded sign. Expect frustration and delays, but do not get discouraged. These are minor setbacks, not the ill fortune of the last two years. The rat year coming up in 2008 will allow you to enjoy the full benefits of your patient work this year. Take time out to enjoy the pleasant year, it will help you to overcome the small frustrations in business. Be prepared for travel — you may even change where you live. All will be in preparation for the good fortune which the rat will share with you in 2008.

This is strangely accurate (in the way that horoscopes allow you to read the details into your life). The frustration part is definitely true, and I must say -- VERY COOL the part about changing where I live! I want my house. I want my house!

Rooster : 1921, 1933, 1945, 1957, 1969, 1981, 1993, 2005
Rooster will be at the feast, but pig is modest and rooster enjoys strutting. Conservative pig has little patience for rooster's emotional displays. In the pig year it is best to work on compromise. The rooster will worry about his seat at the table. Don't be foolish. Stop worrying and enjoy the party. Good fortune comes to the rooster who can copy the pigs steady pace. This does not come easy to the proud rooster and you will find that success this year takes more work. Business may suffer small problems, but a steady pig approach to completing tasks and following through on plans will bring rewards.

This description -- "rooster enjoys strutting" and "rooster's emotional displays" and "proud rooster" -- could not be further from the truth about SM. That just isn't him. He's the most even-keeled and down-to-earth guy around. That's why he's good for me. Especially when I go into orbit.

So it looks like we're serving up the year of the pig with a grain of salt. If being realistic means believing only about half of what you hear/read, then I choose to believe my horoscope!

Gung hay fat choy!

("Wishing you prosperity!” in Cantonese)

Today is the lunar new year, the Chinese new year. I hope the year of the boar brings everyone peace, health, happiness and good fortune!

Gong xi fa cai! ("Wishing you prosperity!” in Mandarin)

Mmmmm... lunch!

Spaghetti with turkey chili and cheese. And, SM is making it while I play canasta on the computer.

Oh am I one happy girl!

George Takei on Tim Hardaway

(yes, pun intended)

Go George!

Grey's Autopsy?

This show is so frickin' annoying. Last year with Izzy killing Denny and now the whole Meredith drowning thing? I think Meredith comes back. I think she has a conversation with Denny and the cute guy who now has his own show -- Friday Night Lights (good career move, BTW) -- and decides she wants to live and fights her way back. Voila. Miracle.

And Izzy. How unbelievably selfish can someone be? I mean, they're all there, worried about Meredith, and she dumps on George? Who the fuck does she think she is? What kind of person tells you that you married the wrong person in a moment like that? Take the opportunity to unburden yourself because you've got something to say and then guilt the person -- in the guise of honesty -- from being pissed at you because you spout some shit about your belief in the strength of your friendship?

Whatever.

During the show, I kept telling SM that I was so over the show. And yet I keep watching. Like watching a train (or ferry) wreck. But here's what we decided -- that the acting was good, so the characters suck you in but the story arcs are too over the top. The question is when the writing will irritate me so much that I won't give a damn any longer.

And, they let Izzy back as a doctor. That really pissed me off. I swore after last season's finale that I wouldn't watch anymore if they gave Izzy her priviledges back.

And yet I do. Pfffff.

Funniest quote in a signature block

Seen on a recent email... "Impeach the cheerleader. Save the world."

Heh.

That should have been French vanilla

But I guess Ben & Jerry didn't see the E. H. Norton interview before they concocted their new flavor: Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream -- vanilla ice cream with fudge-covered waffle cone pieces and caramel.

Al is in!

No, not Gore. Franken. Al Franken has declared his intentions to run for the US Senate from his homestate of Minnesota.

Oh, this is gonna be FUN!

Two hour delay on the Fed and unscheduled leave in effect

= five people in my entire office, only one of whom has school-aged kids. The rest scrammed for the day.

So does that mean I should be able to get more work done because of the quiet or less work done because there aren't people here to provide the info I need?

Sadly, my boss is here. So we'll be workin'.

Happy Valentine's Day!

However you are celebrating -- or ignoring -- this day, I hope it is all that you want it to be.

And remember, although there may be 95 Hershey's Kisses in a pound (according to my trivia factoid-a-day calendar), I'd bet that those 95 Kisses equal more than a pound!

Hmmm, maybe I'll test my hypothesis personally... Ahh, the sacrifices we must make in the name of science!

Going South...

The deal on the house, that is. We may be able to save it, but gawd only knows at this point.

Big. fat. stinky. poop.

Yay?

Early closure for the federal government. But I'm still here. Because I have a "legal" deadline tomorrow, and I'm not chancing it with the weather.

Poop.

UPDATE: I got out at 4:00, about two hours after everyone else left. But still two hours early for me. So, it's all good. Now I'm home.

House update!

We're still embroiled in back-and-forth with the sellers (who are investors, not occupiers)... it's very frustrating. I think we'll work something out, but it's gonna cost us about $30K more than we thought.

Which is still well within our budget and still a good deal on the house.

But what a hassle. And how sad for us that our first house-buying adventure has turned out to be such a mess.

I still need your fingers crossed for good vibes, peeps!

Also

It's amazing how downright balmy 35 degrees can feel after a week of teens and below. Now, it's even in the forties... ahhh! Bask, bask, bask

Wonderful relative warm.

Just in time for a winter storm watch starting tomorrow. Drat.

I have to get this out of my system...!

I'm going nucking futz over this. I try not to care, but it's so friggin' petty that it grates on me...

What could be so awful, you ask?

Actually, it's really nothing. A small issue, but it irks me so much that I just need this rant.

You see, my boss always seems to need to "correct" my writing -- adding commas where none are necessary (but she wants them); changing correct grammar to sloppy sentences; and even editing the facts.

I am an excellent writer. I know I am. I can let the stylistic changes roll off of me (for the most part), but it so. very. much. irks me when she makes my writing look worse, sloppier. Also, c'mon, can't we let the small things slide? Let me have my own style on documents that bear my name. It's not like there's a strict format for, oh say, NOTES FROM MEETINGS!!! I may be the newbie, but I'm not a dummy.

As my dad would say, geez o' flip.

/rant

Yuck.

I came down with something which knocked me on my ass (although not flat on my ass) on Sunday. I was tired and achy and completely lacking in focus, more so than usual. No fun.

So, I bought some Zicam flu spoons. Ya' know, the ones that have medicine measured into disposable spoons that you're supposed to mix into a drink? The medicine is supposed to be tasteless -- at least, the box says "virtually tasteless".

Utter horsecrap.

"Virtual tasteless" my ass. Maybe if you're so freakin' congested that you can't smell or taste anything. Otherwise, bleck.

I mixed the medicine into tea with honey and milk, but all I tasted was medicine. Awful tasting medicine. Despite loads of honey. It was just horrible. Utter ick. I could only manage about half a mug before I gave up. And the box says that you're supposed to lick the remaining medicine off of the spoon after you've mixed it into your drink. No way.

Here I was thinking I'd drink something pleasant (the tea) that would help me feel better. Instead, I got ick. Very sad.

It's not nice to torture sick people.

Yappari

(Japanese for "I thought as much").

The seller is dicking around with us. Fucker.

I told my dad about the situation, and he has a friend who was general counsel for one of the larger real estate agencies. I'm sure you've heard of it. Dad is going to call him for some friendly -- but not necessarily legal -- advice about what we can do.

Figures this was too good to be true.

Fucker.

Not a nice way to treat someone who's sick.

Bad night

Ooof, but I had a bad night. I went to sleep well enough, but at one point, I rolled over and felt my stomach lurch.

And then contract.

And then rebel.

And I had to bolt for the bathroom.

(Several hours later, repeat above scenario.)

I don't know what I ate, but it didn't like me at all. And even now my stomach is tender. It feels like nothing I've ever felt before. I imagine that pain is like birth contractions. I imagine.

I am sure my unhappy belly is not nearly as painful as contractions -- a mere fraction thereof -- but given how bad my gut feels (and I have a very high tolerance for pain), I don't know how women get through those contractions.

Back to my tea and sloth on the sofa.

Washington, DC on $20 a day

After fixed expenses that is.

So SM and I are tracking our expenses for this month. Actually, more than tracking; we're constraining them to $20/day so that our out of pocket expenditures are no greater than $600 each.

We aren't touching our fixed expenses such as our mortagages, utilities, student loans, cable, internet, cell phones -- even though those last few are arguably luxuries. After those auto-bill are taken from our accounts, we want to spend no more than $600 each. That may sound like a lot, but it's only adequate. It helps that we both get a commuting subsidy (which doesn't cover my full cost, so towards the end of the month, that will be out-of-pocket). Otherwise, we're tracking our groceries, entertainment, lunches, caffeine fixes and anything else that isn't a routine monthly expense.

It may sound relatively easy, but this $600 must also include anything we buy for each other for Valentine's Day (simple, I told him -- I won't get you anything... he laughed and said that was fine) as well as whatever I spend on my mother for her birthday. Fortunately for me, MY birthday falls outside of this one-month tracking period.

Anway, so far, we've both been pretty good. I have been keeping meticulous track of everything. I haven't engaged in any retail therapy. I eat oatmeal 4/5 lunches in the office and try to get my coffee hit at home in the morning. We've only ordered in pizza once and have been better about eating what we have at home. I don't think either of us has spent more than $100 cumulatively in the past week.

Pretty good, eh?

I do know that I can do this. When I lived in New York City, my expenses were so tight that I was on a $10/day budget. Now, THAT was tough. Of course, I didn't have cable or internet or huge entertainment expenses, but still, it's a deprivation diet when a movie and popcorn sucks up your allotment for two days.

Nevertheless, I did it. It helped that I brought my lunch every day to work. And I am proud to say that I have never. never. been in credit card debt. Which is unsual among my peers. I have more than half a dozen friends who ran up tens of thousands of dollars of credit card debt. But I escaped that trap. Probably because my mother is ... um, er... thrifty. And I learned from her example.

But that doesn't explain how my brother ended up with his terrific credit card debt. Hmmm...

Anyway, I'll report out my total after these 30 days. Can I keep it under $600? You betcha'!

Still waiting for the paperwork

I really hope this seller isn't dicking around with us. The counter-offer was accepted yesterday. We get promises from the seller's agent that the paperwork is coming, but nothing yet.

And it's pissing me off.

Meanwhile, I'm brushing up on my contracts law.

Office space oddity.

It's 6:00 and I am the only one left in the office. Heck, the cleaning guys are already working their way through... I guess it really is "late" for this office.

This is a very. very. strange situation for me. I'm used to offices where the bosses are glad to have you "donate" time, heck, they even expected it.

But I'm outta here momentarily. Yay! Let the weekend wash over me!

Madam President.

The NYT reports that Harvard plans to name its first female president.

Well, it's about time!

And very kewl that a woman is likely to succeed Larry Summers, who stepped in it big a few years ago when he commented that innate differences between men and women might be one reason fewer women succeed in science and math careers.

Sheesh, and I had actually respected the guy.

So I wonder how good the good Dr. Faust is at math? Good enough to be Secretary of the Treasury -- which has gone 218 years without a woman at the helm, compared to Harvard's 371?

What would Larry say?

BAR/BRI lawsuit update.

Two Plaintiffs Oppose BAR/BRI Settlement

But the part that caught my eye is this:

Under the proposed settlement, class members would receive $125 each, according to the name plaintiffs disputing the proposed settlement. They say that’s less than 10 percent of what the average BAR/BRI course costs, and is neither accurate nor fair restitution. Prices for BAR/BRI review courses vary from state to state, from above $1,300 to more than $2,700 for first-time applicants.

I guess that's one or two highlighters. And a nylon bookbag.

I feel like such a grown-up!

I just got a government credit card for travel. It's the first time I've had a "corporate" card. Evah. Even though I travelled a great deal for other jobs in the past.

It just makes me feel... so... official.

TGIF

Nothing more than that. It's not been a particularly long or arduous week, but for some reason I am quite happy that it's almost over.

Yay, weekend!

Anna Nicole Smith dead at 39

Sounds like her life -- her very short life -- was a story of extremes. Ups and downs. Success and tragedy. Poverty and riches.

Very sad.

But at least it's pushing the stories about the astronaut love triangle -- "Lust in Space" -- out of the headlines.

House update!

We're at counter-offer stage.

I feel sick. And dizzy. And my heart is going a mile a minute.

Oh my!

Because I'm short; that's why!

Topic: more tidbits than you wanted to know about She Says. Question: why did she just spend five minutes taping up the hem of her pants?

Yes, I'm on the short side of tall. I'm actually quite medium. In height that is. Just ask Denise. She'll vouch for me.

Anyway, to be really accurate -- lawyerly accurate -- I taped up the hem because I am wearing work pants to work. When I wear work pants, I generally wear heels so that I don't have to get any pants hemmed. I actually have never had to get any pants hemmed. Most of them are about 1-2" longer than my legs, so they are fine to wear with heels. So I wear heels instead of visiting the tailor. It's much easier AND it gives me an excuse to buy shoes.

But today, I wore my Canadian bad-weather booties to work (because it snowed last night) and switched them out for my shoes at the office. The booties (they aren't really boots) have a very low heel, so when I walk in them, I tend to tread on my cuffs.

And I don't wanna do that. I don't wanna ruin my work pants. And I don't wanna have to hold up my pantlegs as I walk (it's awkward to do and keep warm and carry all of my stuff at the same time -- not to mention the fact that I look like someone with deep issues).

So I taped my pants.

Long explanation for no apparent reason.

Let's just hope I remember to remove the tape before I throw them in the wash!

TMI about little ol' me...

Read no further if you don't want to know something personally personal about She Says. Spoiler alert. Stop right here. Seriously. No, seriously.

Okay, you asked for it. You can't say I didn't warn ya'! What follows is not for the faint of heart.

Well, not really, but I don't want any "ick" comments...

So here's my confession: I have a fur coat. I wear it in the winter, and it keeps me warm when it's cold outside... or so I rationalize.

Before you get ready to throw red paint in my direction, you can lift your jaw off of the keyboard. No, it's not what you're thinking (I think). It's not that kind of fur coat. It's my own.

On my legs. I don't shave my legs in the winter. They are now furry.

It's my dirty little secret -- and it's one that many (although not all) women harbor. That we don't shave unless we have to. And by "have to", I mean, that we don't have to wear a skirt and we are either in a relationship without pretense (and can therefore be "natural") or aren't dating at all (so no one will see the fur). If I do have to wear a skirt, I'll shave to just above the "tree line" -- that is, above the knee, the part that will show -- but if I can get away with opaque tights instead of shaving, that's what I'm doing. Opaque tights are my friend in the winter. You would think the hair would help keep them up, but trust me, it doesn't work that way.

I joke that my fur provides an extra layer of insulation, but in truth, I'm just lazy.

And how do I know that many women do this? Well, I haven't done an inventory, but I have anecdotal evidence. I once got a card from a friend which read on the front: "Spring is here! That means I have to get out my lawnmower..." (with accompanying cartoon of a woman pushing a lawnmower).

When you opened the card, it read (yes, you guessed it): "Time to shave my legs!"

Yup.

TMI? Tough.

Only in DC

Well, I blogged about how TV sometimes dictates the ebbs and flows of our social lives. Today I found an article called "So Washington: Nine readers share memories of moments that sure as heck wouldn't have happened in Muncie" in the WaPo.

Having lived in DC for quite a while and having worked in the legislative-advocacy arena, I've had a few of my own DC moments...

Running into two members of Congress (one of whom was SM's former boss) eating Chinese with Al Franken. I effusively thanked one Congressman for his support on a piece of legislation that was important to my organization -- and pretty much ignored Mr. Franken. Now, that's DC for you.

I have seen George Stephanopolous on a date (this was quite a while ago). I have been hit on by elected officials (no, not Bill). I saw the senators (in this case, Joe Lieberman and Jim Jeffords, along with Tim Russert) at the home opening Nats game when baseball came back to DC.

But I have to say that my really, really DC moment was during the Clinton administration. I had a number of friends who worked in the White House. As you may know, the White House has box seats in the various theaters around town, including the Kennedy Center. Well, the prez and first L don't often use those tickets, so they are made available to staff. My friend thought I'd be interested in one particular performance and got tickets for me. I don't know who else we were sitting with (because the box has probably a dozen or more seats), but I do remember two things: one raiding the minibar for snacks. (C'mon, no shocked looks from you guys -- I assure you that everyone does it.) I snagged several boxes of M-n-ms (ya' know, with the Presidential seal on it?) but decided not to avail myself of the mini bottles of champagne and beer. After all, I don't drink but I do eat chocolate (although I didn't eat these). Two, I used the bathroom there. And while I was making use of the facilities, I remember thinking "Hillary Clinton has peed here."

That's my "only in DC" story.

Priori-TV

Or should that be prior-TiVo? Dunno. But this collection of anecdotes of what people have done in the name of programming is amusing. Maybe because most of us can relate.

I had a roommate in college who chose classes around her favorite soap opera. None could conflict. (To her defense, it was the 80s -- soaps were supreme and VCRs primitive.) I have definitely turned down social invitations just to veg out before da tube. (Sometimes that's better company anyway.) And I've stayed up way, way too late to my detriment the following day to watch a TV marathon of some inane show. (Project Runway comes to mind... once I was hooked, I had to catch up on previous seasons!)

Uh-huh. Done that. Probably within the past year.

Anyone care to confess their best worst tales of when the TV shows were the basis of your social programming?

Damn, I'm nervous!

This is worse than waiting for grades in law school. Seriously. No, seriously!

Presumably our agent put in our bid for the house first thing this morning and we should hear something today or tomorrow. I have the feeling that the seller is really quirky, so who knows how he'll react or when he'll even respond.

Grrr...

I am NOT a good waiter. Patience has never been a personality trait that I've possessed in any reasonable quantity. I'm a proactive kinda gal. I would rather take the bull by the horns than sit back in uncertainty. This is killing me! Because, yes, I want that house! (hear me, oh, lord of land? divine deity of real estate? god of property? puleeeeeeeeeeeeeeze? pretty puleeeeeeeeeeeeeeze?)

On the other hand, my desktop "fact a day" trivia calendar has this question for today:

"In real-estate shorthand, what does the acronym FDR represent?

Answer: Formal dining room (which this house doesn't have).

But I'll take it as a positive sign.

(Also, the other thing my calendar says is that today is Waitangi Day in New Zealand.)

So there ya' have it.

Good vibes this way, please!

SM and I signed all of the papers to put a bid on a property today. We both really like the place. I am pessimistic, but he's hopeful.

And the strange thing is that our reactions are based off of the same information. We found out that the owner of the house has dropped the list price precipitously (like $150K down) over the past year and even refused offers. SM focuses on the dropping of the price and thinks that means he's desperate to sell. Thus, he's optimistic. I focus on the "refused offers" part and think something weird is going on here -- and am all gloom and doom.

But we signed all of the papers, and our agent is going to get the info over there tonight or first thing in the morning. We'll soon see if this is in play or DOA.

Send good vibes for us, folks, please!!!

3:27

I have a colleague who leaves the office every day at 3:27. Not a minute sooner. Not a minute later.

Her consistency is remarkable.

Update: She left at 3:28 today. I wonder if that's why it's freezing outside? Nah...

Everyone loses in this case.

Especially the daughter.

Read About Isabella in the WaPo:

Janet Jenkins and Lisa Miller got hitched and had a baby together. Vermont says that's a simple truth. Virginia said it was all null and void. The future of a little girl hangs in the balance.

Even sadder that this family's personal tragedy will be used in the policy arena by homophobes against gay families.

Despite the strength of everyone's emotions and intentions, however, the first issue here isn't the merits of either mother's case. This seems to me to be a simple and straight-forward issue of jurisdiction in family law. And the law is very clear here.

Sounds like the VA court agreed.

Brrrr!

Well, it's 15 degrees here with a minus 9 wind chill.

Now, I know that's nothing compared to Tom in Fargo or the Scooter family in Minnesota -- which is about 30-35 degrees colder than here -- but we're wimps.

Seriously, brrrr...

Holy sh*t!!!

We found a house we want to make an offer on!!!

Sorry for ending the sentence with a preposition, but this is definitely holy sh*t territory.

I don't want to jinx anything, so I'll leave it at that for now. I've got to go look up some property and mortgage law.

Holy sh*t.

Two things

One, more house hunting today...

Two, I think I've decided to root for the Colts to win the Super Bowl. There's not too much rational thought behind that decision, although there is the irrational thought of I'd like Peyton to win, finally. Simply because he seems like a nice guy (told ya' it was irrational).

The only semi-rational reason I have is that the Colts used to be from Baltimore. In fact, they were the Baltimore team when I was growing up. So there's a bit of a home-town (home region?) pride there.

Okay, so maybe that's irrational too.

Moral dilemma... sorta

So, we saw evidence of a mouse in the house the other day (week?) and then saw the critter him or herself shortly thereafter. Being not so thrilled at the thought of the マウス (mouse) running through our cabinets, eating the dog food and generally scattering footprints (and droppings!) all over our kitchen, we bought traps. Ya' know, the sticky kind -- when they run over it, they get caught in them.

On the one hand, these traps are very humane. No pain involved. On the other hand, the mouse is likely to be alive when you catch it because the trap doesn't kill it. Which means you have to.

Or not.

Or what?

And that's the dilemma that reared its cute head.

We caught twice the mice this way. And both were alive. I abdicated all responsibility for deal with them, so SM had to.

So what do you do in this kind of situation? Kill them? Free them outside? Well, he didn't kill them. Nor did he free them outside. He put them in a garbage bag and threw them in the dumpster outside.

In other words, he buried them alive. Left them to suffocate and/or freeze to death.

::sigh::

Not that I wanted to keep them. After all, that's the point of the trap -- to get rid of them. But, but, but, well, I had gerbils growing up. And mice look too much like pets to not feel at least a twinge of conscience over this.

But if they had been bugs, no problem. Bugs would never be pets in this household.

Poor kitty

And yet, I couldn't resist posting this.

The original poster of this video on youtube included this blurb about it:

Before you send the hate...read below:

A pet supply store offers a "pet spa". It has a device that will wash and dry your pet. After fighting with cats in the past. We decided to try it. The pet store told us that cats love it. As you can see he didn't like it. We stopped it early. I wouldnt recommend this service.

Trapped in a small place. Alone. Not knowing what was going to happen. Water spraying at you from every direction. Wouldn't any living creature just love those conditions? Yeah, I can just see why someone thought that was a good idea.

Right back at me..!

So, remember that food meme I posted on January 15th?

Well, yesterday I was amused to see a hit from France on my blog for a search for the #3 item in that meme.

That's the first time something I wrote has come back around to me. Cool that it was from France. It would have been even more fun if someone had tagged me with that meme, not knowing that I started it.

I used the google search (the one that hit me) and tried to trace the meme around the blogosphere, but alas, the links back weren't precise enough (meaning that instead of linking the post, people linked the blog) for me to figure out the path back to my little keyboard. Once it went beyond the blogs that I read, it just went.

Still, that was kinda cool to see.

Also makes you realize that things you post can take on a life of their own. In this case, that was the intention. But it's a good reminder that you never know how info on your blog is being used or when something you wrote may come back to haunt or taunt you.