Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Clearly, I have Ebola.

I woke up this morning feeling like death. My throat hurts, my head hurts, my skin hurts, my FUCKING HAIR hurts. I have a fever, and i kinda wish i would just die. I took a sick day today which makes me nuts. I hate wasting sick days on actually being sick.

I tried to go to work. I really did, but I couldn't stop shaking. My bones were too cold.

My beloved work friend, we shall call her Squid because that is her name, told me that she was feeling sick yesterday, but then did a bunch of things like make soup and eat lemons and tea, and so now I am trying to get up the energy to go to the store. It seems really really hard.

I am not a good sick person. I am whiny.

I might write more later.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Dear Worst Phone in the History of Life,

Seriously. Go fuck yourself. I hate you. I AM OVER YOU. I should have listened to my friends who told me "Dude, your phone sucks." I STUCK UP FOR YOU!!!! Now, all I want to do is call my mom, and then Army Girl. What the hell? But no. It's way more important for you to "synch up"? Synch up with WHAT?? I never installed the stupid software onto my computer, because it seemed too hard and not important. What does my PHONE have to do with my computer? Nothing. Nothing at all. Just let me call my mom! Come on.

You never do anything right, Phone. You are a loser. You are a screwup... you will never amount to anything and I am sorry I ever had you. I can't believe there was a time in my life where I thought I needed you. You've been nothing but a disappointment.



Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Grace's Regret #45435463

When I was 18, and a freshman in undergrad, I went on a roadtrip with my boyfriend and two of our friends. We were all in a very competitive program in college and every semester we had to basically re-audition to stay in the program. We had just gone through this process and passed, but our class had essentially been cut in half. (I bring this up only to explain that I am a talented person.) So anyway, we decided to take a roadtrip to celebrate.

It's 3:00 in the morning and I don't know why now I am choosing to tell this fairly unimportant and boring story.

So the four of us get in the car, and decide to drive to Idaho. To get potatoes. Seriously. That was the misssion. But then after about an hour, we decided that once we got to Idaho, and got our potatoes, we might not be able to find a place to cook them. So then we decided to go to West Virginia, where the other girl we were with had a brother who knew how to make his own beer. Seemed like an ok plan. I don't know why we didn't stick with it, but somehow we ended up in Florida.

Well, no spontaneous trip to Florida is complete without a trip to Louie Lombi's Tattoo Paradise, my friends. Which is where I got my first and only tattoo. I was smart though. I called my father to ask permission first:

Grace: Hi Daddy! Can I get a tattoo?

Grace's Dad: Of course you can, Sweetheart. It's your body. Just one thing though, you'll need to find someone else to pay for college.

Grace: Hm. So, that's actually your way of saying no?

Grace's Dad: Yes. That is my way of saying no. You're 18 years old. You're beautiful, whatever stupid shit your 18 year old self chooses to get tattooed on your body you will regret later. Don't do it.

Grace: You're right. Good thinking, Daddy. I love you. I'll call you when I get home.

Grace's Dad: Love you too, Honey. Bye

Grace: (to her friends) He said it's fine!!!

We then all set out to choose what we were going to get tattoed on our 18 year old selves. The other girl on the trip was, at the time, a vegetarian. She got a carrot tattooed on her ass. She's not a vegetarian anymore.

The other three of us decided to go with the ever poplular chinese characters. We all got them on our right ankles. My boyfriend got one that meant "Actor" (I know, I should have ended it right then and there) The other guy we were with got one that meant "To Seek"

I got one that translated as "Live in the moment" Deep, right? If I had a nickel for every time I rolled my eyes at myself, I'd be fucking loaded.

So I am totally forgetting why I am even telling this story. Oh. Right, because it's nearly 3:30 am and I can't sleep.

So, the tattoo didn't really have much of an effect on my life. After a while, I sort of forgot about it. But whenever I was asked about it, I was sort of proud. Living in the moment is a good thing! And a good mantra! And can anyone think of a better way to really express your carpe diem-ness, than to PERMANENTLY ink it onto your body? Naaaa.

Until my college graduation party. I remember sitting on my mother's kitchen table and chatting with her while she cooked. I was wearing a little sundress, and jauntily kicking my legs back and forth. All of a sudden, my mother grabs my right ankle like she's about to tear it off.

Grace's Mom: WHAT IS THIS?

Grace: It's a tattoo!


Grace: Yes!


Grace: Freshman year at Louie Lombi's Tattoo Paradise! Do you like it?


Grace: It means "Live in the moment," Mom! Like, Carpe Diem! Isn't that cool?

Grace's Mom: ARE YOU SURE?

Grace: umm... what?


Grace: Ummmmm....er...Of COURSE I did! What do you think I am? A complete idiot? You actually think I would get something TATTOOED on my body in a foreign language without even checking to make sure it said what it was supposed to say? I'm OFFENDED, Mom. That hurts. You have absolutely NO faith in me whatsoever. Thanks A LOT.(stomping off to her room)

On this day, at my college graduation party, I had my first panic attack. I actually had NOT checked to make sure my tattoo said what it was supposed to say. Who DOES that? I realized that I was a complete idiot. I was convinced that my tattoo actually said something like "White girl conforming to non-conformity" or "I'm dating a loser" or "Bad decision maker" or "I lie to my dad"

I felt tricked out of my coolness. And Chinese people everywhere had certainly been laughing at me for years now.

It took me about a month to gather up the courage to do the research, and find out what my tattoo actually meant. Fortunately I found out that my tattoo actually did mean, "Live in the moment"

However, after that day on my mom's kitchen table, my tattoo will always translate to me as "total fucking idiot"

Monday, October 20, 2008

Pumpkin Shanking

I was invited to THREE pumkin carving parties this Halloween. Of course I find this particularly hilarious, because I hate all holidays, and Halloween is no exception. However, I had fun at the one I ended up going to. And I carved a fucking KICK ASS pumpkin, and no, I TOTALLY don't care that I carved it using a template.

So... here's my awesomeness. I did the one at the bottom.

Monday, October 13, 2008


First of all, thanks for everyone's responses in my previous post. I feel smarter! I'll post more about that later today or tomorrow.

Now I want to vent a little. You know what I hate? When people say dumb shit. Admittedly, I do this more than anyone. I also bitch about bad drivers when I, in fact, am the worst driver on the road. I am the reason the phrase "road rage" was coined. In other words, I know I am a hypocrite. But it's my fucking blog, and you certainly don't have to read it if you don't want to.

Actually, the specific dumb shit that I hate for people to say is "you're so lucky."

Fuck that. It's stupid. And they never mean "lucky" They MEAN something else, and usually there's an element of passive aggression. "Oh, Grace, you sure are lucky that you don't have any kids. You can afford to spend your money on Starbucks Pumkin Spice Lattes!" really? that's how we are currently defining lucky? You are bummed that you can't have a pumpkin spice latte because you chose to have a baby? Aren't you fogetting you have... a BABY? Some people might view that baby as something that makes YOU lucky, you dumb twat. Making different life choice does not equal luck.

Am I really lucky? Is my last name Jolie-Pitt? I didn't think so. No I am not fucking lucky. I'm not particularly UN-lucky. Whatever I am or whatever I have that some fucking asshole thinks is a result of luck, actually has nothing to do with luck. I have a friend who won the California State Lottery twice. Once for about 80k, and then another time for 34 million. That's luck.

You're lucky that your family loves you so much.

Yes, I am lucky that my family loves me so much. They all hate each other. But they all love me. They all hate each other so much that all we ever talk about is how much everyone hates everyone. And any time I ever try to do something as simple as have a lunch with one of my siblings or one of my parents, it is viewed as a HUGE betrayal. Family holidays are so uncomfortable that I continually volunteer to pick up bond court shifts in order to avoid them. If I can't pick up a shift, I lie and say that I did anyway. Then I spend the evening by myself. Yes. Very lucky.

You're lucky that you actually enjoy your job.

Yes, I am lucky that I enjoy my job so much. The moment I walked into the courthouse on my first day of clerking, I knew that is was the only job I would ever be happy doing. In order to get said job, I had to spend my summers and days off of law school class in unpaid clerkships. This required me to take out more student loans than I had expected. Now I have so much student loan debt, that I regularly have panic attacks just thinking about the fact that it's possible I will RETIRE from my beloved job, and still owe money.

You're lucky you had such an interesting life before you went to law school.

Yes, I'm lucky I had such an interesting life before law school, but the fact is that it means nothing now. It would be nice to have such an interesting life AFTER law school. If that happens, it won't be luck. It will be me making it happen.

You're lucky that you can come and go as you please; you don't have a spouse and a child tying you down.

Yes, I am very lucky I have the freedom to come and go as I please, with no responsibilities to anyone but my dog. Nevermind the fact that the only thing that I feel I was born to do was to be a parent, and as I get older, that possibility seems less and less likely. Yay, but I can stay out til midnight whenever I like!!!! Oh, my WONDERFUL good fortune!!

You're lucky you have a lot of friends who really care about you.

Yes, I'm lucky I have a lot of friends who care about me. However, the only ones who REALLY know me, and understand me, and accept me for exactly who I am, who I NEVER have to censor myself in front of, who have seen me at my ugliest, my angriest, my most brilliant, my saddest and NEVER wavered, well... one lives in fucking AUSTRALIA, and the other is six feet fucking under. And neither is returning any time soon. Clearly, I have hit the jackpot.

You're lucky you're so pretty, and you get asked out all the time.

A. That's just not true. I don't get asked out all the time. B. I'm not that pretty. I'm just ok. C. Even when I do get asked out, I am usually so nervous that I am going to have to interact with another person on a one-on-one basis AND leave my house, that I usually have no choice but to say no. Yep. Lucky Mc Luckerton.

I was just recently told in a text message from someone who, admittedly might have some issues with me, that I am the luckiest person in the world. And when I inquired why in the world I was the luckiest person in the world, this person said "because you've never had to love you from the outside."

So, here's a note to anyone who has ever loved me, currently loves me, or has any intention of loving me in the future. You are not lucky. You are, in fact, UN-lucky.

Someone else extremely close to me was fond of saying, "If I am on an airplane with Grace, that plane is CERTAIN to crash, but if I am holding her hand, I know I'll survive."

I don't know if I like that assessment more or less. However, I do think it's more accurate. But all that really means is that I've experienced a lot of wreckage, as a result of my incredibly amazing and fantastic luck.

I'm not saying that I am not grateful for the path my life has taken, for the fact that I've taken unnecessary risks in my life, which could have had horrible consequences but I've somehow managed to land on my feet, or for the fact that even after I've acted like a complete bitch, there have been people willing to stand by me. That I'm healthy. All I am saying is before you say dumb shit like "you're so lucky", you should really just shut the fuck up, and think about your own luck.

I don't know why I'm writing this today. Tomorrow I might not even care.

PS. The person who said the "I'm lucky because I've never had to love me from the outside?" That's a fucked up thing to say, right? I mean. It is! Right?

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Dear Law With Grace Readers,

I've been meaning to take advantage of your anonymous knowledge for some time. Here's the deal. There are things I need to know. There are things I'd like to know. There are things I'm just curious about. I KNOW some of you know the answers. So TELL ME! Obviously, you don't have to answer all of the questions. But at least answer one. Lurkers, this includes you. consider it charity.

***Oh. And as an added incentive, if you answer one of my questions, I'll answer one of yours. Doesn't matter the topic. If I don't know the answer, I'll find out.

1. Is there a way of measuring dry pasta so that you have exactly one bowl full? I always make too much or too little.

2. Is it true that muscle weighs more than fat? But like, how much more could it POSSIBLY weigh?

3. What's wrong with Kelly Ripa?

4. If you used to date me, was I really bad? Did I have any redeeming qualities?

5. Is it true that it's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open?

6. Are Converse All Stars really really way too early 90's?

7. Where is a good place to go on a vacation alone? Just for 5 days or so. It's gotta be somewhere warm. In mid January.

8. Does anyone have a copy of the American version of Nobody's Side, from the musical, "Chess"?

9. How did you find out about my blog? And why do you continue reading?

10. If you are the person who always leaves the comment "someone should take a dump on your chest" why do you think so? That's a little gross. Why do you say it?

11. I think my blog needs a makeover. Does anyone want to redesign my blog? I don't know how to do that stuff.

12. People say that if you tuck your thumb into your fist when you punch something, you will break your thumb. Does ANYONE know anyone who that has happened to? Because I don't think that happens.

13. Did you go to undergrad with me?

14. Was the bailout a good idea or a bad idea?

15. Why do crazy people always talk to me?

16. Dress boots with a skirt suit- Courtroom appropriate or no? I think no, but there's been some office debate.

17. Do people still get perms? I obviously don't, but does anyone?

OK. That's all. Go. THANK YOU. And I welcome your questions as well.



Sunday, October 05, 2008

The Dog & Me- A Dialogue Part V

Me: We need to talk.

Dog: What are you doing here? I thought you died!

Me: Um. No, I didn't die.

Dog: Yes. Yes, you died. I remember it vividly. I pooped on your corpse. I'm sure of it! It was SWEET.

Me: No. I'm alive. You didn't poop on my corpse. I just took you on a walk ten minutes ago. How could I be dead?

Dog: Oh. Damn. Well, when you do die, that's going to be the first thing I do.

Me: Super. That's just great. Can we talk now? It's kind of important.

Dog: Make it brief. I have to go lick myself.

Me: I think your relationship with the squirrels in the neighborhood is unhealthy. It's bordering on toxic.

Dog: What would YOU know about healthy relationships, Asshole?

Me: This isn't ABOUT me. It's about you. Ever since we moved into this neighborhood, you stare out the window and you bark, whimper, and even cry at the squirrels. They seem to be driving you crazy with desire. But then, I take you outside, and you nearly knock me to the ground by pulling on your leash so hard trying to chase one.

Dog: Well, maybe you should try sensible shoes, instead of those hooker heels you're always sporting.

Me: They're not hooker heels. They're professional, courtroom appropriate, work shoes.

Dog: Whatever. If you can't walk in them, they're too high for you. Why you're AGAIN choosing to blame ME for your shortcomings is beyond me, Loser.

Me: It's not that I can't walk in them. I CAN SO walk in them. I just can't run in them while you chase squirrels, that BY THE WAY YOU ARE NEVER EVER GOING TO CATCH!

Dog: (silence)

Me: I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.

Dog: Like HELL you didn't!

Me: I didn't! I'm just frustrated. And you know how to push my buttons, and it just came out all wrong. I'm so sorry. Of course, you can catch a squirrel some day.

Dog: Yeah. Well, no shit. Of course I can. You're the disaster- not me.

Me: Hey, I have things going on! I just don't share them with you because you can't be supportive.

Dog: Yeah, well it's sort of like Lions Fans. Sometimes you just gotta stop supporting the loser team.

Me: I didn't know you knew how to make football analogies.

Dog: Yeah, there's a lot you don't know about me, Assface.

Me: I hate to do this, but sooner or later, you are going to have to make a choice. You don't have to do it today. But one day you will have to decide. The squirrels, or me.

Dog: Ok. I choose the squirrels. Are we done here? Can I get onto licking myself now?

Me: Ok. um.. see you later.

Dog: Shut up. Oh and feed me.