Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Update: At least it was after noon

When I was a little girl, I was always trying to read these books that were so far above my age group and my little girl brain that it was ridiculous. I don't know what possessed me to think I could do it, but I always tried. My parents, teachers, etc. all thought that this was great. "Oh look at little Liza, isn't she such a reader." At one point, while talking about a book I was reading, my mother said "If you keep reading books like that, you'll go to Harvard" (my dream as a child was to go Harvard. What can I say? Apparently I was a nerdy kid). So I would sit there with my book in one hand, my dictionary beside me, and slog through chapter after chapter, inevitably having to look up every other word. It made for some slow reading, let me tell ya. Invariably, I would get partially through the book and get sick of not being able to understand what was going on. Did I stop? Of course not, since that would have disappointed my elders, causing them to withdraw their "little reader" comments. So I would keep going until I found a new book, allowing me to put down the tiresome beast that I'd been dealing with up until then. This behavior continued until I was actually old enough to reread the books I'd put down. It was rather frustrating, and my dominant thought was "will this book never end?"

That's how today was, long and frustrating. The only difference being that I now use Black's Law Dictionary instead of the Oxford English.

At least it was after noon

You know you're having a bad day when, while sitting at school at 12:40, you say "I need a drink." Ditto that if you think to yourself, "if only I didn't have class in 20 minutes, I could drive to the daiquiri shop, get a drink, and throw it in my law school mug."

Monday, September 11, 2006

No Parking

I don't usually have issues with my neighbors. They're all awesome people, and I'm glad that I have the privilege of living next to them. Recently, however, new people moved in two houses down and their renovations and the attendant noise/lack of parking is annoying the hell out of me. See, they have these contractors there, day and night, starting at 7:00 in the morning with a whole hell of a lot of noise. Most days, as in Monday-Thursday, this isn't a problem. I'm up anyway. Friday-Sunday, though, you gotta lay off the hammering. The noise, though, is really secondary to the parking situation. The contractors have turned my formerly quiet, easy-to-park-on street into a damn parking lot, and it's making me want to scream.

First, there's the absolutely gigantic pickup that takes up two spaces on its own. Yes, they're contractors, they need to haul things, whatever. This pickup, though, doesn't haul anything. It just sits in the parking space that I used to use and does nothing, all day long. I got so mad that I (politely) asked that the pickup be moved to the big, empty space in front of the house that they're working on. Seemed reasonable to me, but the next day the pickup was back and the big, empty space was all big and empty again. But, one truck, fine, not so bad. Then there's the car carrier, that's not actually hauling a car and just sits there all the time, 24 hours a day. Still not that big a deal, we're only missing about 3 spaces here, what with the car carrier and the pickup taking up two spaces all on its own. But, there's also the car that the carrier used to be carrying. Then there's the dumpster, the ubiquitous New Orleans dumpster. Two more spaces. Now we're starting to get to the parking lot look, and I've been having to haul my groceries/books/self the whole way down the street instead of being able to conveniently park in front of my house. But wait, there's another huge pickup, also taking up two spaces. You three freakin' contractors are taking up half the damn street and there is still a big, empty space in front of the house that you're working on! So, because I'm childish, I feel that now I have to make it a point to glare at the truck whenever I walk by it on the way to my house. The truck, of course, doesn't see me glaring, but I'm hoping that its owner will sense my rage from the backyard and feel the need to move his monstrosity. Since this hasn't worked, I decided that I would park close enough to the truck today that it would be a real pain in the ass to get it out. Hmmm, you'd think my recent 25th birthday would have had some effect on my maturity level, but apparently not. With the parking in and the glaring, I've reached the stage where I'm both exceedingly mature and passive agressive. And I still don't have a place to park.

Monday, September 4, 2006

Biscuit Ass

Just a teensy observation:

There have been any number of diets in the last few years, all with catchy names and new and improved guidelines. You know what I mean...South Beach, Atkins, The Zone, the Hollywood 48-hour Miracle Diet (right, I'd love to see that work), and so on. Well, in response to this vast array of weight loss techniques, I've heard a number of people say "What happened to the good old-fashioned 'eat less and exercise more' diet?" To all those people, I say this: I've tried it, your good old-fashioned diet, and it doesn't work for shit.

template by suckmylolly.com