Minneapolis Woman Finally Uses Up Last of Those Damn Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Address Labels

I do appreciate address labels. Very useful. But these. THESE! These labels are so embarrassing that when I use them, I hide my mail below all of the other envelopes in the outgoing mailbox so that no one can see. I imagine the folks at Comcast snickering as they rip open the envelope, judging me. These labels: The American Flag in the shape of hearts. Ew. Worse, they say Mr. & Mrs. Shad P****. Who am I, nothing? Just a "Mrs."? I am the one who wrote the check for twenty bucks, people.

I am in much better spirits today. It turns out that I was just spazzing unnecessarily again. I wish I could avoid doing that. This morning I received a nice little e-mail from the attorney complimenting my work. I am going to print it out and rub it against my cheek the next time I start getting bent out of shape. After the Tax exam we headed to the bar. Now, I was not drunk when I showed up for my 5:00 class, but I had just thrown back a couple mugs of beer with Mikey and Jason. For whatever reason, class discussion arose concerning attorneys who show up to court drunk. This sucked, obviously, because I wanted to talk to the prof after class, and now I was feeling particularly irresponsible and shamed. I began frantically chewing on breath strips.

The real drama of the week is that I have an enormous zit taking root on my chin, and we have graduate photos on Wednesday. I can feel this thing growing from a half inch below the surface. It is going to be huge. I am going to look like a freak in this picture. What am I, 15? Ugh.

Kitty Meows at Woman Accusatorily

I explained to her that it is Shad's job to feed her and that he would be picking up some food on his way home. She is pissed. It is all the same to her, and I don't think she understands English.

The weekend was, in a word, sucky. I spent all day today and yesterday trying to finish a work project and feeling like the biggest moron ever, completely unable to advance the ball on these issues despite spending thirty or more hours in research. Tonight I chucked whatever self-esteem I had left out the window and just sent the thing off and will probably be fired tomorrow for being so extremely stupid. Meanwhile, as I languished in this cesspool of pointless circular research and self-hatred I completely ignored my Tax exam, which is tomorrow. I was vaguely aware that my classmates have been holed up in the library for the past week studying for the thing, and for some reason I am so engulfed in apathy I did not even manage to look at an outline until a couple of hours ago. So, tomorrow is going to be a bloodbath. Ah, well. This too shall pass.

I did have some great times Friday night. Kicked the night off with the oh-so-exciting annual Nerd Review banquet. Shad was hosting a going-away party for good ol' Julia so Mikey was my date. We procured several drink tickets and had a lovely time. Then we went to Shad's party, which was fun, and by the way it certainly is not awkward to bring one's law school boyfriend to a party thrown by one's spouse. We swung by joLynn's party around eleven and stumbled back to our side of the river sometime around 2 or 3. It has been a long time since I had that much to drink. The extreme hangover probably did not help my mood the rest of the weekend.

All right, I'm going to get to bed so I can get up early and learn an entire semester of Tax. This is going to be fantastic.

Spontaneous Wink Sends Juice Into La La Land

My winking skills were at their prime when I was waiting tables, and I'm afraid they have been waning over the last year or so. In fact, I don't even remember the last time I winked at someone (other than myself every time I look in the mirror). What a travesty. I had forgotten until today what a marvelous and powerful piece of communication the wink is. I was watching a hearing this morning, and the prosecutor--who I know, remotely--winked at me on her way out of the courtroom. Wow, I sighed, as I floated into a magical place filled with tingly and special feelings recognizable to those who spend their lives seeking attention, an ongoing manifestation of middle-child syndrome. Winks are so great. In the tiniest piece of a second, the wink sends this sweet and private little message: Hey, I like you. Or, you and I are the only ones who get this joke. Or, I totally saw you spit that out and feed it to the dog but I won't tell. Winks are so much better than smiles, which, frankly, are the cheap street whores of non-verbal communication. You can smile at anyone, a thousand times a day, including and maybe especially at people you don't like. But you don't wink at someone you don't like. (Unless you are waiting tables. But that is a whole different story.) Unfortunately, my wink is now a bit rusty. I have to try too hard; my face scrunches up, it takes too long. Maybe next year, when I am done learning my left and right I will start working on my wink again. Unless I start waiting tables again, of course.

I enjoyed a lovely happy hour with Dr. Rasmussen after work today and now have sequestered myself in the Sky Lounge to do homework all night. My sweet spouse (who has an excellent wink, by the way) picked up a starbuckies for me on his way home so I'm all set for a night of fun times.

Law Student Considers Career Change

On the first day of Trial Advocacy last semester, the professor, a state court judge, said, "The reason you are here is the same reason I am here: We wanted to be actors, but knew we could not make it." This, of course, is true. I started college as a theater major...I was planning to be an actor and a history teacher and in my spare time a fashion designer and a writer. Now look at me, I am a boring fuddy duddy wearing a blue suit and sitting behind a computer monitor all day. (I will admit that I like it. Except for the part about being boring.) Anyway. Tonight I got to do some acting as a witness in Mike and Jason's trial. It was fun and now I want to move to Hollywood. I even got to use my glasses as a prop this time because I was not worried about shaky hands. Mike and Jason looked like a couple of rosy-cheeked alter boys up there. So cute. They did a swell job.

Juice Embarrasses Self in Public Again

A few weeks ago I watched this hearing in court where the attorneys were bickering back and forth like children. The highlight was when one attorney accused the other of throwing a temper tantrum over some discovery issue, to which the alleged tantrum-thrower responded by standing up, stomping his feet, and shouting "I did NOT throw a tantrum!" A week or so later, I was talking to the court reporter and mentioned the case. "How do you stop yourself from cracking up?" I asked her. She responded very seriously, "I use my back teeth to bite down on the very back of my tongue." She opened her mouth to demonstrate.

This trick does not work for me.

I requested David Rakoff's other book, Fraud, from the library. There was a hold on the book, so I got the CD instead and ripped it onto my ipod. Not a good idea for someone (me) who is trying to convince the general public that she is a normal person. The book is hilarious. And here is me, traipsing down the street: smirking, giggling, snickering, chortling, all-out-belly-laughing, tears pinching out of the corner of my eyes. It's bad enough that I talk to myself, but this, THIS, is too much. I must listen to the rest in private. I am glad I picked this up even though I was not so taken by Don't Get Too Comfortable. Or maybe it is just that much greater to hear him read it.

Minneapolis Woman Gets Big Hairy Monkey Off Back; Another One Promptly Takes Its Place

Damn these poo-flinging primates! What am I doing in this jungle?

Couple Sneaks Unexpected Peek at How Neighbors Live; Neighbors Unexpectedly Peek Back

Shad and I stopped at a couple of estate sales this afternoon. At one place we found an upstairs den with several different types of whips displayed on the walls and ceiling. Inside the room were closed-circuit television monitors displaying four separate areas of the house. I am sure I do not understand this. But maybe that is because I have never felt the urge to whip myself while monitoring the household activities: In the kitchen, Shad boils water for tea (*whip!*); kitty licks herself in the bedroom (*SNAP!*); water drips from the faucet in the bathroom (*Ahhhh*)...

At another place I picked up an entire set of encyclopedias published in 1945 for five bucks. They are wicked awesome. I do not know what the heck I will do with them, but they are full of fantastic illustrations and the binding is great. I am sure I will not be able to stop myself from cutting them up. This place also had an entire patio set for fifty bucks. I decided to go back and pick it up tomorrow. May take two or three trips. There is a dining table, chairs, tea stand, love seat, and I think a little bistro table and lounge chair(s). It's a huge set and in decent condition, although I plan to re-paint it and sew new cushions for all of the chairs & loveseat. At this place I made the mistake of engaging the dude in conversation; he was completely baked, was carrying this little puppy everywhere, and told me among other things that we should take the print blocks Shad had just bought and velcro them to the wall.

Honestly, I do not understand why people disparage my neighborhood. It is so entertaining.

We are at the office; me, doing tons of homework. Shad and Donn are ostensibly working on a project but I am certain they have spent at least an hour discussing how to make the perfect spicy pork sandwich. I got locked out when I went to the bathroom and got stuck in the foyer by all of the boys who play dungeons and dragons outside of the coffeeshop. This happens almost every time we come here on a Saturday or Sunday and it makes me panicky to be around so much puberty. It is great to have Donn around, though. He just went down to the cafe to get a muffin for me. He also provided complete instruction on how to persuasively use my eyewear during argument, a technique I have been aiming to perfect since I picked up new reading glasses this week. It was my intention to use them for dramatic effect during my closing argument on Thursday, and I spent a great deal of time practicing the routine: a dramatic pause, deep sigh, slow removal of the glasses, almost imperceptible shake of the head, another dramatic pause, use fingers to work out crease between eyes, a gesture, at first tentative, and then pointed, aiming the glasses toward the idea that I have just conjured into the heretofore empty space four feet in front of me, an eye squint and slight nod, another dramatic pause, and then slowly put the glasses back on. I did not do this during the trial though, despite my practice--I chickened out when I realized how difficult it would be to hide my shaky hands whilst holding my glasses.

The trial, by the way, went very well. I lost (Ahem...BAD FACTS!) but I had a good time and I felt good about my performance.

Below is the dress I made for Tonya's wedding March 30. I call it "La Fuega." Feminine fire. I might have made that up, but if you look at the fabric close you see it looks like flames. Alas, I cannot explain why I look like a weirdo in all pictures.

Juice Completes Metamorphosis Into Biggest Nerd Ever

I think I should be embarrassed to admit this, but here it is: I am super psyched about my final trial tomorrow night. I dig this crap way more than I thought I ever could. I used to be so scared of it I thought I would pee my pants but now I think it's the funnest brain game ever. Well I still get nervous but it's a fun kind of nervous. Like skydiving, perhaps (for nerds)? God help me I am such a geek and I cannot satiate this desire to eat the heads off live chickens. Anyway. The only problem now is that I still have not figured out what outfit I will wear tomorrow. It's a wrongful death case so I think I need to appear...somber.

Today was the most tolerable Tax class ever. I flagrantly violated the no-internet policy and played Weboggle (you may not believe this, but I actually haven't played Weboggle in a couple of months). Matt and I formed a team and we got into the top ten several times. We played the entire class. Actually we stopped for about ten minutes because the prof was calling on people close to us and we got a little bit panicky, but eventually the allure of the game became greater than the fear of looking like a bonehead so I continued to play despite the danger of getting called on. I am surprised he has not called on me yet given my history of skipping class and never reading or being prepared and basically being a big jerk.

Accordian Dude Encroaches on Michelle Bachman Songwriter's Territory

You know the dude in the skyway by Macy's who sings the hits of yesterday and today? And he writes his own songs about Michelle Bachman and Norm Coleman? Anyway, I've noticed that the accordion guy is there more and more frequently. I appreciate his looks (exceptionally bedraggled) but I think I enjoy the songwriting of the guitar dude better (Today he was singing a song about how he ate 100 peeps in 5 minutes and died/they said it was a sugar suicide...).

Today I was filling my 12-oz coffee cup for the--gulp--fourth time, and realized that I had just single-handedly finished off the office coffee pot, I began to fret a bit about my health. No fear! A quick check on the Death by Caffeine calculator reveals that I have a hundred cups to go before my body teeters over. Phwew. Game On!

Thursday is my final trial for Trial Ad. I don't need any more jurors, but if any of you are looking for entertainment Thurs eve from 6-9 you are welcome to stop by the moot court room at my school to check out the scintillating proceedings. I feel strangely calm about the whole affair even though I have much to do to prepare and am trying the case by myself this time.

I am feeling a bit better, by the way, since my pathetic post of Friday. I have not gotten bent out of shape about anything for three whole days. Yay! I spent the weekend with my family in Perham and had a great time. Brother John and I invented a new game called "Lick the baby." We pass Natalie around in the circle and everyone licks her, and whoever is holding her when she starts to cry loses. Kate vehemently objected to this game so we did not actually play it. (Something about "germs"?) But we licked her every now and then when Kate wasn't looking...

Area Couple Seeks Adult Nanny

I think Shad and I need someone to take care of us for awhile. For starters, Shad has been really sick all week, apparently coughing up a lung. I do not know exactly what he has (whooping cough? tuberculosis? Black Death?) but neither of us have been sleeping well because he has been hacking all night long.

I, on the other hand, have apparently turned into a bipolar mess this semester. I have spoken to a few of my law school friends and learned that other soon-to-be graduates are suffering from this affliction, which makes me feel somewhat better, but still. Sure I have stress, but not too much, not enough to make me so unstable. One moment I'm super happy (as I should be, I'm a super lucky duck!) and the next moment I inexplicably sink into the deepest of doldrums and just feel bad about everything. Recycling is piling up...genocide in Darfur...the way my pants fit...the smell in the refrigerator...the fact that the Christmas wreath is still on the front door...war in Iraq...my dead and/or dying plants... (not to minimize humanitarian crises, I just get sad about everything everything everything...it spirals).

The last time I sunk hard, a few weeks ago, Shad took me out for fried food & fruity cocktails and diagnosed me as (1) stressed (sure, okay); (2) feeling weird about life change (being done with school finally, bar exam, starting new job, etc.); (3) guilty about extra-marital affair with Geoff (a complete non-occurrence, obv; but a few weeks previously there was a series of events that, while innocuous, I now realize were highly suspicious to the independent observer a/k/a spouse. I thought the accusation was hilarious but I guess Shad didn't and I later discovered that I had been subject to surveillance (even more hilarious) that cleared me of all charges. When called out on this, spouse sheepishly admits the spying was not so much due to suspicion as it was from watching too much of The Wire); and (4) grumpy about our messy house (um, you all saw the pictures of our table). Usually Shad can snap me out of the dumpy-dumps, but that does not stop them from coming. I try to suffer low moods gracefully (for the first few minutes) but then I get frustrated when I can't talk myself out of being depressed and that makes me even more depressed.

Well today I was happy as usual but then I got all sad when I came home. Ugh, how annoying. I walked in the door and saw a letter from the firm where I'll be working in the fall; it detailed my soon-to-be benefits (medical, etc.) and I got all weepy when I read it. WTF? (It makes some degree of sense, medical expenses are probably my biggest anxiety, but still.) So I called Shad to warn him that I was having another crybaby episode and he told me to come down to the studio immediately. When I got there I discovered that the PUNY folks had been apprised of my condition and sweetly inquired as to my mood. Tim suggested that if I pop the giant zit on my lip (because I am also suffering from adult acne) I would be better. I am not a zit-popper--never have been, I am in the habit of just waiting it out--but I took Tim's advice and I must say it was quite satisfying. Then Shad took me out for a lovely dinner at Loring Pasta Bar.

So anyway, that is the situation here at Chez Malaise. We need a nanny fairy to make soup and hot tea while Shad hacks up that lung and I stop crying about nothing. Any takers?