A Parade of Errors...
As part of my law clerk-ly duties yesterday, I went to court with two members at my firm to watch a portion of a custody battle that had been going on for 3 years. It was a pretty interesting day and definitely much more entertaining than researching about the inheritance tax and pretrial diversions.

During a recess, I was standing with several attorneys (all men) from my firm and discussing the events of the morning. I looked as professional as humanely possible - wearing my cute little black Ann Taylor suit, matching stilettos, pearls - for goodness' sake, I even rolled my hair. Since I was evidently playing "Courtroom Barbie," I carried the perfect accessory, my purple mock croc briefcase (does it matter that the only thing inside was a legal pad and lipstick?).

Across the courtroom came another attorney (not with my firm) and says to the men I was with"Wha'cha'll doin? -- Bringin' yur secretary to court with ya?" (referring to me). It was funny to watch the attorneys stiffen up, puff out their chests, and say "She's not our secretary; she's our law clerk for the summer. AND you met her two days ago." The other attorney blubbered an apology, blushed, and quickly hopped to the judge's chambers. I did not see him again for the rest of day.

I had three thoughts on this. First of all, what does it matter if an attorney brings their secretary to court? Is that such a big deal? If I were trying an important case, it might be helpful to have the other person with me who knows probably as much, if not more, about the case as I do.

Second, it was cute how all those men were so quick to stick up for me. As I've mentioned before, there are no female attorneys in their office. Before I started, I was very nervous as to how I would be treated since I would no doubt be spending some time with each of these men. They have had females in the past, but the women seem to transfer jobs or go have babies. I'm sure that they get teased by their colleagues for appearing to be "politically incorrect," and yesterday they had a chance to rib another attorney for the same thing. Regardless, it was nice that they stuck up for me rather than saying something like "Aw shucks" and ignoring the faux pas.

Third, while what I experienced yesterday was no big deal (it just comes with the territory of working in a small Southern town), it was a small eye-opener into the world of law (and also the world of men). A lot of older attorneys naturally assume that if you are a woman, you are in a subservient job (secretary, paralegal, etc) to the attorney. Because of this assumption, if you are a lady lawyer, you are scrutinized more closely. While such scrutiny can be viewed as encouragement to excel, it is also stressful to be under the watchful eye of so many attorneys. This is something I alternatively dread and look forward to when I finally become a real lawyer.

On a more serious note, I had never watched a custody dispute take place before, and it was an eye-opening experience. I never realized how much each and every action would be carefully inspected if you ever fought over the custody of your child. I guess such examination makes sense when you are considering the 'fitness' of each parent, but to watch each indiscretion, each mistake, each imperfection be paraded before the court by the opposing counsel as proof that that parent should NOT have custody was really... sad. I wish I could think of a better word to describe my feelings about this day, but I just can't. Sadness and frustration with our society. That is how I felt.

To know that at the end of the day, the judge will make a decision based on those past actions is terrifying. To know that your future happiness rests on your past behavior creates such a feeling of powerlessness -- you may have changed, but your past actions are still a considerable factor.

I rarely talk about religion on here, but yesterday's events made me think about being a Christian. It is difficult for me to grasp that God knows all of my flaws - every bad choice, indiscretion, sin, and poor decision. If I were the judge, I would struggle not to consider all those bad parts of a person's life, but He doesn't. As long as we confess our sins (and are truly sorry) and claim him as our Savior, our past doesn't matter. Our future is not a complete consequence of our past if we choose Him.

I do not intend to turn this blog into a devotional blog or anything, but I just wanted to write. I always try to keep things light and silly, but sometimes, no matter how hard I try to avoid thinking about stuff that actually means anything, it hits me in the face with such a smack that I cannot ignore it.

So, if hearing about me being a Christian makes you roll your eyes and think "Oh goodness, how can an educated person believe in such a thing?" well - this is my blog and I can write whatever I want. Shoes, wine, couches, laundry, God -- the sky's the limit.

However, if you are like me, and feel that its much easier to read celebrity gossip than ponder what our lives are all about, maybe my little comments got you thinking about issues in your own life.

Yet another reason why I AM NOT cut out to be a housewife...

As many of you know, the Knight and I are living with his parents for the summer. This is not a bad thing, as I adore my in-laws (I really do, they aren't just reading this) and it keeps us from paying rent for two apartments this summer.

We are living with them because the Knight is finishing his air traffic control school stuff this summer. We have been living apart all year (me in law school, the Knight with the Knight's parents), so I got a summer clerkship in a town near his parents' home. So far, it has been fine living with his parents. We laugh together, cry together, dine together – we are extremely…together. In fact, I was even fortunate enough to experience watching both steamy sex scenes in the DH and GA finales…with Mr. and Mrs. Knight right next to me. AWKWARD!

Awkwardness aside, one huge benefit of living there is that the Knight and I have unlimited use of the washer and dryer. For those of you who have lived or currently live in an apartment, you understand what a cost-saver this is. During the year, I would typically spend $10 a week on laundry. Now it is free – so I have more money for things like shoes! And wine!

During exams, I desperately needed to wash clothes, but I knew there was an oasis of free laundry in just two short weeks – so I stayed the course and had about a month’s worth of laundry ready when I moved in.

This past Saturday, I decided to tackle Mt. Laundry. After creating 11 piles by sorting by color and level of delicateness (yes, we had that much laundry), I put the first load in – jeans, t-shirts, and underwear. No biggie, right?

WRONG! After I put the load in the dryer, I decided to take a little nap. When I woke up 2 hours later (okay, so my nap wasn’t so little), I came downstairs and the Knight’s cute little mom had this look on her face – kind of a “you poor thing/I’m so sorry/I’m also a little mad” face. She led me to the laundry room, and proceeded to show me that, while drying, the clothes got a little fresh with a feisty ink pen, the ink pen fought back, and now all of our clothes had big ink spots ALL over them.

Well, naturally I was upset – with myself and the Knight. Upset with myself because I checked all the pockets except for one pair of jeans – the pair the Knight was wearing right before I started the load. He had quickly taken them off, and I just threw them in without ever contemplating the damage that would follow. Upset with the Knight because -- how hard is it to take stuff out of your pockets? I mean, you know someone is going to wash your clothes, and you put stuff in your pockets, so why can’t you take the stuff out too?

So, an entire load of our clothes was ruined. Not exactly the end of the world, but definitely a bummer. Well my friends, unfortunately my very bad day quickly got much worse. After folding all of our spotted clothes, the Knight’s mom also discovered that the ink had coated the entire inside of the dryer. We threw a wet towel in there to see if the ink would transfer to the towel, and… it did. After trying a host of cleaners, we found that finger nail polish remover would take the ink right off.

So, next thing I know, I am halfway inside the dryer with a bottle of remover, a towel, and a flashlight. Yes – it was quite an awkward position, but it had to be done right? I was making pretty good progress getting everything clean, when I realized that I hadn’t touched the back wall of the dryer. It was covered as well.

I shift my squatting position; pour some more remover on the towel, and strain to reach the back. Its … just… too…deep. I…can…barely…reach…‘Ehnnnnn’ (reaching noise). I just couldn’t reach, so I repositioned and tried again. This time I put my weight on the door of the dryer for a moment, leaned in, and… CRACK!

That’s right – not only did I coat the entire inside of my mother-in-law’s dryer, but I also broke the dryer door. Now you have to pick up the door and shove it in the doorway to close it. After that ordeal, I just lost it. Not even Candy Corn could make me feel better. I felt so bad and so embarrassed – I am naturally a very clumsy person anyway, plus half the time I feel like a big oaf in their house (they are both petite people), and now I’ve gone and broken their dryer. What’s a girl to do?

The Knight’s parents were very gracious and I think they felt a little sorry for me. The Knight’s mom tried to tell me that the door has broken before and she has washed clothes and pens together, but I just don’t believe her. She is perfect, ya’ll. Very prim and proper and dainty and pretty much everything I’m not. I’m loud and boisterous and break people’s dryers.

So, I guess that this weekend has taught me two lessons. First, I need to go on a diet. I bet Nicole Ritchie would have never broken the dryer, even if she sat on the door and did a cartwheel.

Second, I am not cut out to be a housewife. I have no business doing anything domestic. I’m probably not cut out to be a lawyer either, but probably the only laundering I’ll ever have to do involves money… no Downy needed.

My life is about as exciting as a 1/2 of a loaf of bread.

A secretary in my office forwarded this joke to me. I don't really think it is hilarious or anything, but my life is currently quite dull, so I thought I would share this instead of boring you to tears with stories about my 45 minute commute or how I now have the pleasure of wearing pantyhose every day.

This is the joke:

Lawyers should never ask a Southern grandma a question if they aren't prepared for the answer.

In a trial, a Southern small-town prosecuting attorney called his first witness, a grandmotherly, elderly woman to the stand. He approached her and asked, "Mrs. Jones, do you know me?" She responded, "Why, yes, I do know you, Mr. Williams. I've known you since you were a young boy, and frankly, you've been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you're a big shot when you haven't the brains to realize you never will amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you."

The lawyer was stunned! Not knowing what else to do, he pointed across the room and asked, "Mrs. Jones, do you know the defense attorney?" She again replied, "Why, yes, I do. I've known Mr. Bradley since he was a youngster, too. He's lazy, bigoted, and he has a drinking problem. He can't build a normal relationship with anyone and his law practice is one of the worst in the entire state. Not to mention he cheated on his wife with three different women. One of them was your wife. Yes, I know him." The defense attorney almost died.

The judge asked both counselors to approach the bench and, in a very quiet voice, said, "If either of you idiots asks her if she knows me, I'll send you to the electric chair."

That is all I got.

Da Doo Doo! The last secret lover - #10! (Also - a note on Stu)

Mainly because I am a dork and a "completer" I have to give you one more secret lover. I just can't bear to leave you hanging at # 9, with no number # 10 to follow. That would be a cardinal sin - wrong, just plain wrong. But there is a problem. I can't decide what Secret Lover # 10 should be! I have two websites: this one and this one. One is written by a two cynical slacker law students and the other is written by a former Mormon and current mommy who got fired for having a blog (note to self - do not get fired for having blog).

They are both hilarious in their own little way. Since I can't decide, I'm going to let you pick. I found this handy-dandy poll thingie and made it for you! So here's what you have to do. Go to both. Spend some time on both.
Take the poll. Tell me which one you like best. The end.

Oh - one more thing! *!NEWSFLASH!* Stu has been reading my blog like a good little husband should. After a marathon session of reading, he has decided that he no longer wants to be called "Stu." Apparently, that nickname is no longer good since he doesn't live in the dorm anymore and he thinks it is stupid.

So now? What will his nickname be? I suggested "Stinky" and "Hercules" but he nixed those. His suggestion? "The Knight." From now on, I am married to "the Knight." Please do not call him "Stu," he is now "the Knight." Make no mistake, I am still married to the same person. I have not divorced Stu and gone and married the Knight. They are one and the same -- "Stu the Knight."



So, for future reference, any mention of the Knight = formerly known as Stu. Okay?

So - go to those two websites, come back to take the poll, and remember - I am now happily married to "the Knight." I will gladly accept any gifts from well-wishers on my recent marriage to "the Knight." I don't need anything for our kitchen or home because of all the gifts I received when I was married to Stu. The only thing the Knight and I need are shoes for me. I like the color turquoise and wear an 8 and 1/2. Kisses!

Secret Lover # 9 - Not only am I a shopaholic, but I am also a Doxieholic.

'kay, so I have a BIG test tomorrow and no time for chit-chat, but really really "quicklikethis" I'm gonna send you to my favorite blog of all time...Miss Doxie - a young attorney in Atlanta moonlighting as a comedic blogger.

This girl is funny and smart and pretty and and....she's the total blog package. In fact, it was her blog and Daisy's encouragement that urged me to start my own little blog.

So, go check her out and enjoy her crazy hilarity!

Secret Lover # 8 - doing it on video...

Paris, Colin Farrell, Pam Anderson - what do they all have in common? Sex tapes, my friends. And while you probably won't be able to find that many sex videos on this website, you will certainly find many other entertaining things to watch.

*WARNING* This website is a complete time-sucker, so if you have something important to do (like studying for Con Law), I recommend looking at it later. Unfortunately, I did not heed this warning, and on Monday night, I spent a good hour watching several funny videos!

This one is my personal fave as of late. Beware - its 6 minutes long, but totally worth it! Maybe once exams are over, I can learn all of his dance moves. Yes - that is definitely going to be a goal of mine...unless my chin gets in the way, and then I guess I'll be out of luck.

Quite possibly the most awesome thing I have ever seen - "Get down and break a sweat!"

Note about Secret Lover # 4:

A lot of you have asked me why this guy got a post, but no other former flames did. The answer is simple. None of my other crushes or old boyfriends had a website that was remotely interesting. Several I couldn't find at all, one works for Verizon, and two sell various forms of insurance. Not too sexy, eh?

So, because I like it when people read my blog, I chose what I thought would be the most interesting website/blast from the past. Hope that answers your questions.

Also, if you were an old boyfriend of mine, and you want a link, leave me a comment and I'll think about it. Unless you cheated on me in high school...then there is no possible way I will ever do anything remotely nice for you.

Bye now!

NOTE: For some reason, the old post isn't working. Basically, the story is that this is a guy I went to high school with who now has blossomed into a really talented artist. You can see his stuff this site and this one. This is my favorite piece.

Now it won't drive you crazy when you click and the link says "no URL found" or some other annoying computer phrase. If only it said "Hello most gorgeous person in the world! I am so so sorry, but unfortunately, I can't find that site for you. But don't put a frown on that pretty face! I'll try again for you!" Yes, I think I would like that much better.

Secret Lovers #6 & #7 -- Also, thoughts on my chin.

As for the secret lovers for today, let's face it...everyone fantasizes about twins from time to time. How nice would it be for there to be not one, but two people to attend to your every demand for pleasure? Today's secret lovers are just that - 2 websites that attend to every guilty pleasure. Twin # 1 lets you ogle shamelessly and keeps you updated on every oh-so-important event going on in celeb lives. This site promises lots of juicy gossip and tons of hot pictures for people of all sexual persuasions (even us straight girls like to see a hot guy sans shirt from time to time).

But wait - don't ignore Twin # 2. Nobody likes a neglectful bed buddy, right? Twin # 2 is just as fun as # 1, but a smidge nastier. Maybe she's bitter, maybe she's jaded - regardless, she is caustic and funny. # 2 will satisfy that urge you mask when you bite your tongue and think to yourself, "What is she wearing?" # 2 is thinking the same thing, but she'll do ya one better - she'll post it on the innernet for all of the world to see.

A word to the wise. . . as often happens with a set of twins who together will hop in the sack with you, these sites are complete whores. There are a ton of ads and some are really distracting. However, if you can get past all their "baggage", these sites promise an afternoon filled with randy romps, baby.

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As for me, I have been MIA for the past 2 days. Mainly, my absence has been due to my 25th birthday. Lately, my world has been filled with much debauchery and decadence, and I am still recovering. Needless to say (but I'm gonna say it anyway), on Cinco de Mayo, I consumed massive quantities of margaritas with most of my law school friends, and much to my husband's chagrin, I shamelessly flirted with virtually every undergrad boy I came into contact with.

While I didn't remember most of these encounters, there was plenty of proof of my antics on Daisy's camera the next morning. On Saturday, (my real birthday) Stu and I had a 'me' day - we had a picnic in the park, went shopping for new clothes, and had dinner with good friends. The best part of the day was an ice cream cake from Marble Slab late that evening.

Friends, I am fat as a pig and a year older. Why do I punish myself? Because, I am effing 25, that's why.

One thing that I notice as I age is that my chin is getting progressively bigger and bigger (among other areas on my body). Kind of like Bill Clinton's nose. When I was little, I was often teased about my chin. Charming and clever schoolmates of mine would laugh, point and say "Oooh look - she has a witch chin!" and other polite comments like that.

I guess I have what you say could be characterized as a "strong" chin. While I didn't enjoy being teased, that was pretty much the only thing I got teased about on a regular basis (well that and the time I peed my pants in the 1st grade). I didn't like my chin, but I knew that it was fine, it served whatever purpose a chin serves, and I had no business begging my parents for plastic surgery when I was 10 years old.

But now? Now, I might have to reconsider "freshening up." I was looking at pictures of me that other friends has posted on the Facebook, and I found myself wondering why they didn't tag me...and my chin. As two separate entities. Because I think we are at that point now -- me and the chin. Me & Chinny. BFF's.

Here are examples of some serious chinnage (as you can see, I have highlighted key areas of 'pointy-ness'):





























Don't you think my chin is getting huge? I mean one second a stranger might see me and think "that is a cute little gir...Oh my God, I can't even see her anymore because her massive pointy chin is poking my eye out! Auggggh!" (Stranger blindly runs away).

The only good thing about my chin is that it can be used as a deadly weapon. If I am ever attacked, and my mace/keys in hand/elbow in face do not work, my chin is the next weapon. When my little brother and I would wrestle and fight as siblings often do, I would always win. Was it because of my physical strength? No. The sheer weight of my permed hairsprayed hair? No. Chinny's uncanny ability to find weakness? Yes.

The real fights began when my little big bro learned that he, too, possessed a Chinny. Upon his discovery, the dirtiest of fights began and didn't end until I finally moved away to college (well college and my discovery that he is a full foot taller than me (he is now 6 foot 6 inches)).

See, Chinny is a fatal woundbringer if put in contact with the fleshy area between the neck and arm (shoulder?). I believe this area is referred to as the "traps." One calculated jab of the powerfully "strong" Chinny and the poor victim crumples to the ground, moaning and wondering what in the world he has done to deserve such torture.

While this signature move was once reserved for my little brother, I have now allowed Stu to be privy to this move as well. He is not a fan.

I often use this move to a) get "just a little bite" of whatever Stu's eating, b) make him stop tickling me, c) let him know "no honey, not tonight," and d) (my personal favorite) demanding him to "take out the trash -- NOW." As you can see, Chinny is quite persuasive.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, that maybe I don't hate my chin so much after all. While I do wish that I possessed Inspector Gadget-like capabilities so that I could retract its length and pointy-ness, Chinny is quite useful at other times.

One more thing... if you see me coming, and you have some candy corn or Cheetos on you, you better give 'em up quick, or else I'll sic Chinny on you.

Like I said before, Chinny is VERY persuasive.

Enough about me, here's SECRET LOVER # 5 - -

I don't have time to write today, but if you need a warm fuzzy, this is the place for you.



(Holly and I loving on our fave peep, Harlan, who totally should be featured on Secret Lover #5)

They say, 3rd time's a charm - maybe Secret Lover #3 will be the One.

Considering that I probably just failed my income taxation exam, I should link to careerbuilders.com or monster.com - for my own benefit. But, that would not be fun would it? And you know what they say - the best way to get over someone is to get under somebody else!

So, instead of musing over all of the ways I can explain to future employers how exactly I managed to go to tax (nearly) everyday, take 95 pages of notes, and yet still receive a D on my exam; I am going to introduce you to #3!

Maybe you aren't into fun, bubbly, mind-wasting people (#1) or dark, mysterious, and sad people who exhaust you (#2) - well, #3 is neither of those (or possibly both).

#3 is cool. And very flexible. She has knows about all the cool new short films and even lets you get involved in making your own movie. She is hip, cultured, and very modern. Together, you can watch 3 smart short films or you can get involved in creating your own. You can tell her what to do, and she will adjust her plans - just for you - yet still keeping you on your toes.

I think this is a great choice for a Wednesday afternoon romp - after you're done, you'll want to go to a dark bar, listen to some music and drink a strong martini (or maybe a mai tai)... Goodness knows that's what I need to do.

So, as I pour myself a glass of wine at 3:45 in the afternoon, pull out my Remedies Outline, and prepare to get back into study mode, I hope you can sit back, and enjoy the show(s).

Secret Lover # 2:

Okay, so if yesterday's website was the equivalent of a fun, blonde, bubbly, celebrity-obsessed fling, today's website is her younger, Goth, deep, brooding but hot younger sister.

Still very interesting, but definitely troubled.

This website gives my title "Secret Lover" a whole new meaning.

I would say "enjoy" but that's really not the right word to describe the emotion I have when I view this site. I have a feeling you will be as saddened and fascinated by this website as I was.

Au revoir!