What's that noise?

I was the first in the in office this morning, or at least up stairs anyhow. As I am putting my key into the door, I hear this loud buzzing. "What is that?" As I open the door, the alarm is going off. Here's the really odd part... we don't have an alarm! [pause for reaction]

So, I come in, place my things down on my desk, buzz Jacki, and then stare at the little square device that has never, never been activated since I have been here. I start pressing buttons like nothing else. Then Jacki starts pressing buttons like no one else, then I yank the damn thing off the wall. I then grab a screwdriver... don't worry, I didn't do it. I thought about it though, but the idea of death by electrocution stopped me.

Finally our maintenance man, Josh, came in. Flipped the breaker, after finding the right one. Then he left. About a few minutes later, I asked Christine when he was going to turn it off. "It is off."

"Then what is that noise?" After coming to my side of the desk, she heard it too. It sounds exactly like the alarm. Josh came back, heard it, and explained that it was the lights. He couldn't believe that I could hear it, and then I had to inform him of my unusual ears.

I have an odd sense of deafness. There are certain frequencies that I cannot hear. If you whisper around me or talk in a low voice, I won't know what you are saying. However, high pitches are my specialty.

When I was a kid, and of course growing up in the country, we had a lot of those "plug in" pests things. They make a high pitch sound that drive mice and other critters away. I could here them. I am not kidding. I was in the kitchen one day with my mom, and I asked her what that noise was. She had no idea of what I was talking about. So, I got up and started walking around the room trying to locate the source of my sound. Bingo, pests "plug in." She took me to the doctor the next day.

Methodical Me

While in class, our professor constantly pushes the importance of being methodical when taking cases on. From the initial interview and throughout the entire litigation process.

Now, this professor I have had for several classes. I originally couldn't stand her. I first took her legal research class. She scared me to death! I would spend hours, hours on end in the library following class trying to complete the assignments. This was a night class mind you, so I wouldn't get home until about 10 or 11. She would usually, and still does, put me on the spot because I work at a firm. She would ask me questions, and I would usually give the correct response. However, one particular comment has stuck in my mind for the last year or so, even though we have kind of, sort of bonded. "Yes, Meredith, that is correct, but your approach is completely backwards."

This feedback rang true just a few weeks ago. We were discussing the initial client interview and she was explaining the importance of the funnel method. Ask open ended questions, and slowly, and methodically, fine tune them down the funnel. However, my brain works, as she said, completely backwards. That's right, instead of a funnel, I have a cone. I'd rather ask specific questions, determine whether there is a valid claim, and then elaborate more for the "narrative" of the situation.

My brain is methodical in that I can see the end result that I want, but rather I work backwards to eventually find out what my first steps should be. Does anyone else have this problem, or is it really just me?

Childhood Glimpse

I was making numerous copies the other day for production which seemed like it took hours on end. It probably was close to an hour actually. While I was feeding the documents into the scanner, I noticed a plethora of discarded staples on the carpet. I then proceeded to bend down and pick them up and place them into the trash. During this task, I had a flashback of my childhood.

I remember that when I was little, and I still kind of do it today, I would walk around staring at the ground. If I happened to spot something that I knew would present an issue, I grabbed it. An issue for what?

My chore was vacuuming, among other things. (Now you understand why I hate it so much and have since bought a robot for it). Every time that I would pull our dinosaur/Frankenstein monstrosity out my dad was sure to intervene. If the appliance made a noise other than its regular hum that his ear was so finely tuned to, he would immediately stop me. He would then, in the middle of the floor, take the entire appliance apart and pull the blockage out and dump it all over the floor. It was because of this that I would always wait until he either left the room or left the house, before even thinking about cleaning the carpets.

The worse part is, I have picked this trait up. A few weeks ago I was cleaning the upstairs of my loft. I keep roomba downstairs since it sees the most traffic and I have no problem just setting him lose. The upstairs however, is where I keep the upright. I was try to get at some of the cob webs that collect in the corners when I noticed that the hose was lacking in suction. So, I ripped the thing open, shoved my hand up its bowels, and pulled all kinds of wads of Mere and Mo hair out. Ewwww.

To make matters worse, apparently the vacuum had been clogged for a really long time I started pulling things out of there from when I cleaned the garage at my last house. Paper clips, safety pins, metal splinters. Not fun to say the least.

So, there it is. No matter how hard we try, we do eventually, become our parents. (Insert horror movie scream here).

Proof that I am not alone...

I was checking out my normal blogs and found something just for me. Y'all know that I am not the sappy, sap, syrupy type. (Going to be sick, bluh.)

Anywho, I found this at How About Orange.

There were some really cute other ideas for some V-day Love, and if I were a more warm and fuzzy kind of person, I would consider it.

What does that say?

Sundays are usually, as probably with most, my relaxation day. The day to recoup from the weekend and to get geared up for the coming week. Its the day I get to sleep in, do laundry, cook breakfast for myself, and go to the gym. Normally there will be a movie playing in the background simply for some noise.

Today, while going about my normal routine I decided that I was hungry, but not enough for a full on meal. Snack time. So, I grabbed a banana and some fruit juice. While enjoying my treat, it dawned on me. I have no conventional snacks in my house. Last weekend, Billy stayed with me and stayed at my house while I went to work on Sunday afternoon and he just watched movies. When I got home, he was starving. I felt terrible. And I know that it is because he was sitting there, probably scouring my kitchen and pantry and found no, absolutely no, snacks.

What does that say about someone? All I have in my fridge are the ingredients for various meals, meats, juice, and cheese. That's it. I have no cookies, no cheese-itz, no candy bars, nada. I do have an unopened bag of chips leftover from a tailgate that I should probably throw away, but that's it. Bananas, cheese and crackers are the only things that would even remotely come close to "snacks." Further, my absolutely favorite "snack" of mine is probably celery and peanut butter.

Does that mean that I am utterly boring... or ultra health conscious?

Um... There is no adequate explanation.

The last few days, I have been experiencing the oddest dreams. A few nights back, I dreamt that I had the cutest baby alive. The cutest. If that wasn't enough, he was super smart and did the funniest things. The odd part, aside from the thought of me having children, was that the father was someone that while I knew him, I could never, and I mean never picture myself having children with him. We would talk about, names, he would do the usual freak out, we're not ready for that, but all the while, I honestly couldn't picture it. So why is it that I am able to dream it, particularly now since this person has neither been a part of my life nor I have communicated with him in the longest time?

Then, last night, I had a dream that I died. That's right, I died, but not alone. I took someone with me. Oddly enough, me and the person from the previous dream had gotten into an altercation. I screamed my head off and then passed out. While falling to the ground, I hit something or my head did at least, and I died. I have no idea how he died, but trust me, he did.

What's stranger, is that I came back. I was a phantom and I was visiting my mother, like nothing was peculiar about that. I asked her what happened and she told me that I had fainted due to a syndrome. Apparently my subconscious mind creates new syndromes and names them. Its too funny. Then, I decided to see how this other person had died and tried to find him. Where did I? In hell. My mind had permanently condemned him to hell. A hell where all you do is make license plates.

The really disappointing thing is that when the dream was reaching its climax, in both instances, I woke up. When all was about to be revealed, and that it would all (hopefully) come together and make perfect sense, I woke up. I WOKE UP! Its the most inconvenient clock work; right at 3:00 am my eyes flew open.

Its like the Sandman from hell comes and visits me on a regular basis and broke my internal clock just for kicks and giggles.

Day of the "F" Bomb

This morning was the first in probably 1 1/2 years. I slept in... unintentionally that is. My alarm either didn't go off or it did and gave up. I woke this morning to the sound of my phone ringing. My first thought was, "Who would be calling me at this hour?" followed by, "Why is the sun out so early?" As I walked over to my dresser to grab the device, I caught a glance of those demontic little red numbers.

I answered the phone with the loudest f-bomb I have ever utter... in my life! Don't worry, I knew who it was calling me. Jacki apparently was experiencing the same type of morning. Her son forgot his coat, then when she got to the school to hand it over, he informed her that, in addition to his coat, also forgot his homework. Take two.

I haven't felt that rush of panic searing through my entire body in so long. I was impressed with myself though. I got here in time to open the office. However, troubles were still on the horizon.

After about an hour or two, while still working on this statement of material facts, I get a call from Andrea stating that her brief was eating itself. "I'm not kidding!" I immediately hung up the phone and made a mad dash down the stairs. I believe I was actually airborne for the entire trip down. I ran into her office and there it was, chomping away at itself. In absolute panic and seeing the look on her face, I reacted. I can't remember what I did, but I fixed it.

Hopefully, this day will go without any more f-bombs or absolute disasters.

Revenge?

I can't remember if it was this morning or last night, but someone on the radio was polling their audience to find out what the craziest thing their listeners had done in the name of vengeance. I started to think back on my past relationships and determined that I am a pretty fair individual. Granted, when in the heat of battle, I can and will, scream my head off until all the blood has rushed to my brain and it explodes. I have to admit that I was appalled, and by appalled I mean laughing, at what others were calling in and confessing.

I have never burned, sold, destroyed or sabotaged another's property nor their person. Takes way too much effort. The worst thing I think I have done...Once I did the dumping; he and my pervious ex would not stop calling me, so to kill two birds with one stone, I changed my number. That's it. Call me Ms. Passive Aggressive.

Most say, "Don't get back, get even." Well, my motto is "Don't get back, get a move on," and that is what I have pretty much done with my life. Whenever I have run into a brick wall, I either turn a different direction or climb over it. I try to not let it effect my life, and if it does, only in a positive way.

Like this last time. I lost 50+ pounds, went from a 14 to a size 6 (come on lucky 4), got a promotion, and I am moving forward with my life. I didn't throw or smash anything, or sit in the floor and kick and scream like a petulant child. If anything, my house smelled like bleach for a month. (Cleaning is my cope mechanism.)

So, women of the world. Stop being so overly dramatic. Just remember, life is usually better off without them. And, if it isn't, make it so!

Snow Induced Apocalypse= Celery Crisis

Last night Sarah S. showed up to my house in prep for our shopping trip for dinner and later a night on the town. She immediately began telling me how worried she was about the impending doom destined for this town. Apparently, if the roads become icy and the new shift can't make it in, guess who's working a double?

After reassuring her that its was the mountains which were expected to receive the inches of snow and not our fair town as her father previously told her (and I might have promised to come and save her if need be), we headed off to the store.

Aisle by aisle we collected the items that we needed for the dinner, plus a few personal things. The place was an absolute mad house. There was hardly any milk, all the bananas were gone, and, and there was no celery which we absolutely needed. While checking out, the cashier was telling us about all the crazy things that had been happening since the announcement that snow was on the way. Apparently they ran out of milk the previous day as well.

Seeing as another grocery store was literally around the corner, we decided to try there. Once again, we struck out. No celery, in fact, there was this huge whole in the produce section where it was suppose to be. We ended up having to buy one of those precut packages that cost so much more.

Why is that though? Why is it that the second snow is predicted or a heavy rain comes our way, people lose their minds?

Double Life

This morning I woke at 3:30. Completely unexpected and suddenly from a great dream. I starred at the ceiling for a good hour hoping that I would fall back to sleep and continue my vacation with the cabana boy, but alas, I couldn't. I went downstairs, and shocked at the fact that I did not fall down them, grabbed a glass of water and a movie.

Hoping that this would eventually lull me back to sleep, I set the TV to automatically shut off after 30 minutes. Thirty minutes later, I was turning the TV back on. Grrr. Before I knew it, I was getting up to turn my alarm off, 100% awake. This was a sign of a bad day on the front.

As I was getting ready this morning, I noticed that I had a knot on the side of my face. I have no idea where it came from. Its just there. It did make me start thinking and fantasizing though. What if I were leading a double life, like Edward Norton in Fight Club.

By day, I'm Mere, the studious paralegal with larger than life ambitions. By night, the mysterious blonde racing motorcycles under the bypass (a dream I had a few months back).

I should at least dream during the day since I can't obviously at night, right?

Frailty is Thy Name

I find it rather odd that two of my close friends have said the same thing about me, in the same week, different days mind you, and use almost the exact same words.

I had Sarah N. help pick out a new jacket for me via gchat and le internet. I told her that my leather jacket just wasn't cutting it against the harsh cold mornings and evenings. She said that we needed to cloth my frail body. When I retorted back that I was not frail, she stated, "You are frail because you wouldn't be so cold all the time if you had more meat on your bones." Touché.

Then, on Friday when I went over to Sarah S.'s house for dinner, she commented that when I hugged her I felt so frail. She said that she wasn't use to getting poked by my bones. Granted, my bones are sticking out, but they are thick bones. Runs in my genes, can't help it. My grandfather had back surgery once and it took the doctors forever to get behind his bones because the x-rays did not show the thickness of them.

However, I don't feel frail, nor do I think that I look that way. Although, I did notice that as I was typing this post, my right ring finger has a rather large bruise on it. No idea how I got it, but there it is. Oh well, we all have opinions don't we?



Le Bruise



Closet Freak

This Friday, seeing as I was off work for the New Year, I decided to go shopping. Knowing myself and my abilities to buy loads of clothes, not loving any of them and not the right sizes or proper fits, I decided that adult supervision was absolutely necessary. So, who was up for the challenge? My unbelievably smart, beautiful, kind and talented friend Jenice over at Style Me Libra.

She met me over at the outlets and all within one store, she completely pushed my envelope off the table and broadened my horizons. Aisle by aisle she grabbed things and told me that I needed to try them on. Picked colors that I would normally not chose, and... pushed me into a turtle neck.

For those of you who don't know, I have issues with wearing anything too tight around my neck. Shirts, dresses, necklaces, I won't wear if I feel they are too tight. Anyway, she picked out a white turtle neck and sent me off to the fitting room. I came out sporting the pick, and was soon informed that a medium wasn't cutting it anymore. That's right, I'm a small now.

Then, I picked out a dress that I really liked and was told, again, that my usual size didn't work either. Which one did I leave the store with? A size 6. That's right, a six. I haven't been that small since I was in middle school. Take that bitches!

Haha. Anyway. We had a great time. She made it so easy. When I got back to town, I went to the mall to find a pair of brown trousers seeing as we couldn't find any at the outlets. Not only did I come out of there with pants, but, yet another turtle neck and two other shirts for work. Jenice, you've created a monster.

I cannot wait until we get to do that again.

When I got home, I was so excited, I had to clean out my closet. I got rid of some things that were still lingering in there that shouldn't have been. It was great. I finally have a closet that I can be proud of.

My Life in the Frozen Tundra

I don't recall having moved to the Arctic Circle, but apparently I have. Granted, I am thrilled to have gotten to see a White Christmas in my life time. Particularly since the last time Georgia saw one, cameras didn't exists. Okay, perhaps that's a stretch, but according to this its been since 1882.

Anyway, this morning I woke up thinking that the snow surely would have been gone by now. Nope. Still snow covered river banks. Then, as I was walking down my porch stairs, I barely noticed some ice on them and almost slipped. Last night at the gym, as if an omen or something, ice barred the entrance from all visitors. I had to help this elderly woman across the ice so that she wouldn't slip. Apparently not going to visit the gym though, just cutting through from the old folks home to go shopping.

This morning my car was completely frosted over. While I was scraping the ice off, it would transfer to my gloves and stick like glue. My fingers were absolutely freezing! Then, as I was pulling out of the drive, a red bug was in front of me. I was so afraid that she would slip and slide all over the place as "black ice" was all around. Finally, I made to the road, safe and sound. The actual roads here are fine, but I noticed in my car that the thermometer said that it was a whopping 19 degrees out.

Ahhh. The same goes for the parking lot at work. There were places all around where folks had dumped out their coffee from their cars and it was frozen solid to the ground. This morning when I went to change out the backup disk, I almost considered staying in the control room. It was sooooo warm. But no, back to my cubicle!

Hopefully Georgia will be... Georgia once more and have an unseasonably warm January and February. Fingers crossed! They just might get frozen that way.

Slight Blog Intermission

Sarah N. asked me today when I would update both my blogs, particularly concerning the holiday party and all that we prepared for such. I informed her that since this week is primarily devoted to finals, finishing up projects and the biggest test that I will ever take in my life, it will be a while.

I know that my avid readers (all three of you and the occasional German or Canadian visitor) will be sorely upset by this. However, I will promptly return once I have regained consciousness and can coherently put together two sentences.

Until that time, pray for me and my endeavours.

Its Officially Winter

This morning was the first frost at the river. Since all the rain this week, the river is swollen and raging like crazy. Many of the rocks that the turtles sunbathe on our completely covered and no where to be seen.

As I was walking to my car this morning, I could hear the river before I even opened the door. Then I noticed how the barrier surrounding the river was frosted over and there was ice in the puddles on the driveway. I had to scrape my windshield as well.

I love this time of year, but I must say that fall is by far my favorite time. A few weeks back, I took these pictures and forgot to post them.

It was like a blanket of golden awesomeness outside the courthouse. It makes me want a cup of hot chocolate.

Eh, what was that?

This week I went shopping once again at my favorite (yet expensive) grocery store. I was wondering up and down the aisles, had a good convo with the guy behind the meat counter and got everything that I need, except for one single item that just so happens to be the essential ingredient as it was not currently in stock. My inner monologue sounded something like a broken or scratched record. "What do you mean you don't have it?"

So, yesterday I called every Asian food market in town to find this tiny little inexpensive yet elusive item. Bingo! And off to Baxter Street I was during my lunch break. It wasn't until I got home last night after some more shopping for the party that I realized I left it in the fridge at work. "Well, crap."

At least I am not making it until tonight though. I just need to tie a mental ribbon around my finger as to not forget again.

I have noticed a lot more lately that my mind is just forgetting things like crazy. Monday, I forgot my coat and pumped gas in 30 degree weather at 7 a.m. The other night I forgot to advance the laundry, so last night I went in there and noticed that it had gotten sour and I had to wash it again. Ugh!

Oh well, time to start investing in ginkgo I guess.

See, what had happened was...

My infamous intro. This morning, I was most pleased when I stepped on the dreaded scale. Normally, around this time of year, I am packing on the pounds. I really thought that I was in for it when I went to DC, especially seeing as we were hitting every fast food joint up I-95.

Well, I have in fact, lost an additional 3 pounds. Which means that I am only two pounds away from my new goal that I set a few months back. However, since I have yet to gain the muscle mass/tone that I wanted, I am again lowering my goal. Only by five pounds. Any more and I will look anorexic. Therefore, I am now heading for 130. I figured that way I can afford to gain a few pounds of muscle and get back up to 135. 


Taken this weekend at the gala.

And, do not despair dearest family, at that point I will begin maintenance mode. I am just so excited though that the end is in sight. Furthermore, that finals are soon and the new year will be here before you know it. I can't wait.

Although, I am faced with one downer at the moment and I wish him all the best of luck. My youngest nephew faces surgery to repair a broken arm. The poor little can't catch a break. My heart goes out to him, my sis (don't fret too much, he probably won't remember any of this later in life), my BIL and my oldest nephew, as this can't be easy on any of them. Love you guys and miss you bunches!


My adorable nephew who seems to never be happy.

Turkey Day Cards?

I had no idea that people made nor sent Thanksgiving Day cards...until I bought one. I was on the phone about a week ago talking to an old friend. Old in the sense that I have known him since I was 16 and the fact that he is...old. He is my ex's father, the ex from college that is. I was friends with his entire family for years before I met and started dating him.

Anyway, we were just shooting the breeze and I told him all about my new place and how much I love it out there and how peaceful and quiet it is, but still not too far away from town. He then asked that I send him my new address. "Okay, I can give it to you right now." No, he wanted a card, so that he could save it somewhere. "Just send me a Thanksgiving Card."

"Do they even make those?"

Well, yes apparently they do. So, I sent him one and wished him a most joyous and heartwarming Thanksgiving imaginable. And, since this will be the last post til after the festive fest, I wish you all one as well.

Happy Turkey Day!

Its Just Stuff- Bill

This week has really flown by, and I mean that. Its seems like yesterday I was driving home from my parents. Eeek.

First and foremost, today is my mother's birthday, so...HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA!!!!

Moving on. Now, this week has been a crazy one, let me tell you. Tuesday I finally got my hair cut (it was starting to get at that awkward stage where you didn't know what to do with it) and had dinner with Sarah S. We finally got to celebrate that thing. You know, the one that I mentioned ever so vaguely last week that I am continuing to remain vague on. We headed over to my favorite tapas place, with coupon in hand, and enjoyed our sangria.

While at dinner, I received a most disturbing phone call. It was from my neighbor, the one who use to live in my unit. Apparently the unit two doors down from mine had their water main bust. It flooded three other units as well. He asked if he could check my unit for damage, seeing as he is the agent and still has a key. I told him to stop talking to me and do it already.

Sarah and I sat there, in total silence, waiting for the phone to ring. (She loves my place too and is still jealous that I live there). Finally, a few minutes later, all is well. The water apparently stopped at my neighbors and ruined her brand new hard wood floors. My heart breaks for all those who experienced water damage. I poked my head in when I arrived home that night. ServePro was there and already tearing down his drywall. All his belongings were soaked. I couldn't believe how optimistic he was though. He told me that he had picked up vase that his grandson had made him and it completely crumbled in his hand. "He'll make another one though. Its just stuff."

He made me start thinking. If the same had happened to me, I would have been devastated. Mostly because my furniture is all antique and belonged to various family members, some of which I have never met. But, he was right. If I had lost those items, it doesn't change the fact that were are still family or the fact that I still love them, although they are now gone.

Its just stuff. I am going to try to apply that to my everyday life now... that is where applicable.

I do, however, want to capture more moments from now on. In light of the fact my family will be spending Thanksgiving at my place, I purchased something rather unique. I wanted to make sure that I took photos of everyone together, especially when we start decorating the tree together. Those are moments that I am going to want to freeze in time.

So, I bought this little beauty. Don't worry, I did my research and have already purchased the correct film for it and found out that a camera shop in town will develop the rolls and place on a disc for me for about nine bucks. Can't wait.

Reason 197 Why My Cat is AWESOME

My cat has GPS.

I first got this ball of hilarity in January of this year. His previous owner was a vet student and could no longer keep him as she was bringing her dogs to her new place and was sure that they would not mix. So, she carted him over and stayed for a few minutes, explained how to properly apply his flee medicine and then left.

He cried and cried. The next morning he woke at 5 am and cried, and cried, and cried. I was ready to kill the little guy, but could empathize that he was scared and didn't know what was going on. Finally, after having listened to him for two hours, I got out of bed and was getting ready. As I was walking out of the door for work, Mo decided that he would too. He ran right out and into the woods behind my house. Didn't have him for more than 12 hours before he flew the coop.

Well, Home Again was called and notified of his escape. The vet student was notified, and I went out to her place during lunch to see if maybe he tried to find his way back to her. For a straight week people had been searching for him.

Then, one night, on my way to pick up Matt from work. I was coming up to the bridge when a small animal ran in front of my car. I could have sworn that it was Mo, and that there was no way that it had gotten away in time. I cried the entire way there and back. He had to drive back and to humor me drove over the bridge numerous times to see if there was an animal on the side of the road.

Later that night, while in the garage (which the door had been cracked that whole week) Mo came running in for some food. Not wanting to freak him out, Matt pulled the cord on the garage opener and manually closed it so that he could run off again. I was so relieved that he was okay and had come back.

Well, when I moved a few weeks ago, I was concerned that he would stage yet another escape. I knew that I would have to let him outside, seeing as he hates the litter box and will sit at the door and cry until you let him out to use the restroom...or dirt.

He did fine though. I suppose that it was easier for him in light of the fact that it was just a new place he was getting use to and not new people in addition to it. He loves it out there and will be waiting in the flower bed next to where I park my car every day for me to come home.

This weekend was the first that I had been gone overnight since moving. I didn't think that it would be a problem seeing has his transition went smoothly. I put his food out and made sure that he had lots of water, and thought all would be fine until I returned the next day. When I got home Sunday night, he was no where to be found. Not a problem, he has been gone overnight before himself. But, it was after the fact that he didn't come home last night that had me worried. The last two nights in a row I would have the blinds on the window up so that if he were to come up I could see him. Each night, I passed out on the sofa waiting for him to poke his little face up against the glass. And, each night I would wake up at 3 am to find that he hadn't.

Finally, this morning, I got up early, walked around the complex, in the rain, through the woods and nothing. My final, and last ditch effort, I got into my car and drove over to the old neighborhood. I pulled up to my old house and the second that I got out of the car, there he was running up to me. I scooped him up and brought him home. Without missing a beat, he walked in and ran for the food and then laid on the sofa for a nap.

How did he know how to get back to the old house? He must have thought that was where I had gone and was coming to get me. Either that, or I am allowing my kitty parent brain run away with me. But, you have to admit, that is pretty cool that he is so aware of his surroundings and can remember that well. I am sure that if I had waited until this evening to go looking for him, he would probably have been waiting on the front porch for me when I got home.