Despite her best efforts, Gertrude had to chose between the couch and the bone.
Despite her best efforts, Gertrude had to chose between the couch and the bone.
This picture is a small miracle:
Getting these two to stay still and face the camera is nearly impossible because Gertrude always jumps off the couch when I get up to take a picture.
Last night they both slept on my bed, which was a …cozy situation. I have two doggy beds, so the bedtime pile-up will be short lived.
I also need to move my desk. The desk is in a corner right now and it’s completely awkward when these two needy lugs wrap around my chair, vying for attention.
The desk change and the bed-time rules must wait until tomorrow because I am too exhausted to enforce anything tonight. I may round up the party and go to bed soon.
Both Getrude and Harley seem utterly uninterested in each other, which is better than the WW3 scenario the people at the humane society were expecting. Both however, are being incredibly needy and nudging my legs.
Updates soon.
Jake finally posted the picture from last Tuesday night’s Trivia Night at Innuendo. Behold:
We won that week, but didn’t do as well this week. We didn’t place last, but it was still a hard fall from grace…
We debated what to do about the competition and you can expect a flurry of “accidents” over the weekend.
I haven’t owned a TV since starting law school.
The problem is that I turn on Bravo and 12 hours later I’m all, “did I really just watch an entire cycle of America’s Next Top model?”
I get held hostage by marathons, and would probably flunk out of law school if I had a TV at home.
This is where the gym comes in – the cardio machines have flat screen TVs attached! I spent an hour today working out and watching the Real Housewives of Orange County (and the Haiti carnage on CNN during commercial breaks.) It was amazing. I’m obsessed…and tired.
Joel and I went to a Vietnamese restaurant1 tonight.
We have not seen each other in about two weeks and needed to dish about our trips.2 Joel brought back a cookie from the Carnegie deli, which is apparently a famous something-or-other from up yonder.
I dropped Joel off, and when I turned onto my street I found it blocked off by an ambulance and a police car. Of course the ambulance was for downstairs neighbor, and the police were pounding on his door when I entered the apartment.
I don’t understand what is going on. The police and ambulance left, and now downstairs neighbor is blaring music…what the hey? This better not mark a repeat of last summer…
I signed up for the gym across from the office today.
UMN forces us to pay for the school gym, but it is horribly inconvenient to get to. I have lost 30 pound since last summer, but I did not go to the gym once last semester. My weight loss is mostly due to my diet: non processed foods, no wheat, no lactose.
Another part of the weight loss is a decrease in muscle mass. I am constantly stuck in the lean vs. bulk dilemma – I can’t decide if I want to bulk up or slim down, but all I know is that my current weight is not working.
I felt horribly scrawny this weekend compared to the South Beach roid. There’s no call to fitness like a weekend in Miami…
So tomorrow marks the first day that I am back to working on my fitness. We’ll see how this goes.
The pilot came on the intercom.
Pilot: “Do we have any MDs on board? If you are a MD please touch your flight attendant call button. A passenger is ill and we need your assistance.”
Everyone looked around. No doctors aboard. A flight attendant rushed by with an intense looking oxygen tank.
The pilot repeated his request, and then asked if any nurses or medical personnel were aboard. No takers. Vet techs? None.
I felt pretty useless – “I can offer qualified legal advice!”
We arrived in Minneapolis and waited for the paramedics to fetch the ill passenger. I then stormed to baggage claim and wandered the parking garage1 for my car.
I hadn’t slept in 24 hours and was in a vicious mood.
I went to the University of Miami the night before. Trisha and I visited our old dorm and caught up on the student-life drammy.
The RAs chirped about homecoming and were freaking out about decorating their floors. Trisha and I looked at each other and laughed. We are both in professional school now, but just two years ago we were fumbling with construction paper and rubber cement. How bizarre.
I think I horrified one of the RAs who is thinking about applying to law school. Gloomy tales of the legal job market – dum dum dum!
Ben and I were posted at the main bar again. Blaring house music, strobes, bodybuilders, and periodic visits by the club’s manager and owner. Ben and I insisted on having a 4-hour3 conversation over the music, so I’m croaking like a seasoned smoker today.
I left the club around 5 a.m. and had a terrifying ride with a cab driver who was more familiar with the gas pedal than the road markings. I then showered and packed for the airport.
The airport was a disaster. The Delta Airlines area was understaffed and chaotic.
The baggage drop line was 100-people deep and crisscrossed the self check-in line. The result was that no one knew what line they were in until waiting in the wrong line for a half hour.
The lines moved at a glacial pace and we slowly realized that there was no way we would make our flight.
So many of us were late that they held the plane for us, but they didn’t tell us that the plane was waiting, so a pack of us tore down the terminal like we were being chased by zombie TSA agents.
After the airport sprint in Miami, the medical dramatics on the plane, and the 30 minute car seeking expedition in the Minneapolis Airport’s parking garage, I was so relieved to pick up Harley from the pet hotel and crash.
I slept for 8 hours, did laundry and some minimal cleaning, and I am going back to sleep so I can make it to work early.
It was a fun, exhausting trip.
Viva Miami, but welcome Minneapolis.
1 Parking was close to $75…bejesus.
2 Unofficial Lady Gaga night… they played “Bad Romance” at least three times, “Telephone” twice, “Love Game” and “Poker face.”
3 As opposed to the stand, pose, and smile routine that Carlos and I have mastered.
This is pretty awesome. It was parked on the bay near the Mandarin Hotel.
Alibi. The night starts at the video bar. A tiny man with bug glasses and a messenger bag hits on Carlos. Carlos isn’t feeling it, so the tiny-tot finds a senior citizen.
Boom. We perform for a crowd on the moonwalk stage. The house music gets repetitive so Carlos does hydraulics while I walk it out. Later, Video Phone comes on in the video bar. Carlos stands and laughs while I bust out with the boomkats.
On the way back to the car we come across a pimptastic pair of shoes in the window of Bottoms & Tops, but it was 12:10am and the store closed at midnight. Shucks.
We then head to Ramrod. The bar is so crowded that we have to circle the neighborhood to park. Bartender is morbidly obese, shirtless, and rancid-smelling, but the music is good. I also run into a college crush, who was no longer as charming, but much friendlier.
The next bar is The Manor, a new sprawling club-restaurant-lounge. The club is so big that it is billed as a “complex.” The Manor is beautiful, multi-storied, and sprinkled with thrones and bodybuilders. The main dance floor has blaring 20-minute remixes, and there is also a salsa fest going on in the side bar.
Afterwards we head to Torpedo, which is open later than all of the other clubs in the county. Torpedo is dead until at least 3am, and then it’s suddenly packed. At that point we are just mischievous, doing ridiculous dances, and taunting people.
The night ended at Lester’s, a 24-hour diner near the old Coliseum. Grease, gossip, and decaf coffee.
It was a hilarious, intense night. Although I have no idea how we managed to do the Broward circuit so often in college…maybe I’m getting old?
I think this is awesome.
It’s 3:30 a.m. I’m in South Beach.
Ben and I are sitting at the bar in Club Twist’s main room. It’s packed. Bodybuilders, tourists, and drag queens. Cigarettes and overpriced drinks.
A Lady Gaga remix comes on. We scream in each other’s ears to talk. During the climax of the song, the lights of the bar start flashing like a seizure test. People scream and jump. I look at Ben and say, “I missed this.”
Later I’m downstairs and Carlos is introducing me to a pack of friends, quickly referencing a relationship, job, or affair so I can place the characters.
Earlier that evening we ate at Versailles in Little Havana.
Rice, beans, plantains, and gossip. Versailles is the most famous restaurant in Miami. Every time something happens in Cuba, the news crews go to Versailles to film the angry old men cursing the revolution.
I missed the Cuban food and clubs. I did not miss the $10 drinks or the greasy men1 in BMWs who only slow down to flip someone off.
I’ve spent the majority of the day watching a Law & Order SVU marathon. I haven’t owned a TV since starting law school because I get held hostage by these marathons.
The last time I watched Law & Order was around this time last year at Jamie’s house. I had just come back from Miami and spent most of my break at Jamie’s place. He’d go to work. I sat around and drinking tea and watching Law & Order.
Law school and work have ruined Law & Order. It’s one huge evidence and professional responsibility disaster, but I watch because it’s break and I’m amused.
Law & Order is permanently associated with winter break. So is clubbing on South Beach and the greasy men in BMWs.
1 This happened on US 1 near UMiami.
Mom and I went to the P.F. Chang’s in Mary Brickell village. A waitress told us to seat ourselves, and on our way to a table we passed a manager talking to a chef.
The manager was annoyed when he saw us:
Manager: “Next time when you come into the restaurant please wait to be seated.”
Me: “We were told to seat ourselves.”
Manager: “WHAT?”
Me: “They told us to seat ourselves.”
Manager: “WHO?”
Me: “A waitress. I dunno.”
Manager: “Well they are smoking crack!”
The manager then stormed off as if he was going to beat the waitress. The chef was mortified and approached our table.
Chef: “Thank you for coming to P.F. Chang’s. We appreciate your business and hope you have a pleasurable dining experience.”
The message was clear: “Sorry the manager is a hot mess. I’m not involved in this.”
It feels like -17 in Minneapolis right now.
This is the view from my mother’s place on the Miami river:
It’s 66 degrees in Miami right now. My mother says her toes are frozen. I am in an undershirt and gym shorts. It feels like a sauna.
Have fun Minneapolis!
It is almost midnight, and my plane is over the bay.
The lights of South Beach are to the right. The Miami skyline is to the left. Underneath us are the mansions of Star Island – P.Diddy’s house – it feels like a shot out of a Pitbull video.
The turbulence was bad. During the worst of it, a woman screamed at her boyfriend: “You are the one who wanted to go on this fucking vacation!” He grumbled. I smirked.
I made it out of the airport1 and now I’m watching the First 48 at mom’s house. The First 48 is a crime reality show based on homicide units.
This episode features a murder that happened a quarter mile away from my mother’s apartment in Overtown, my high school’s neighborhood. Part of the episode shows a candlelight vigil for the victim. I recognize people from my high school.
Overtown’s crackhouses, projects, and the vigil2 are in the shadow of shiny new skyscrapers, and only a quarter mile from the man-made islands, yachts, and mansions.
Poverty, wealth, and camera crews. It’s good to be home.
1 The airport was renovated since I my last trip.
2 In Overtown.
I had some cute pictures of Angelo that I forgot to post. Behold:
Angelo went home on Sunday, and his parents said that he seems lonely.
I suspect there are some play dates in Harley’s future.
I took too many classes.
I will graduate with extra credits even if I take the bare minimum course-load for full-time enrollment.
Last semester I was grossly over-scheduled, so I felt ridiculous today when I asked a co-worker for her thoughts on me adding partnership taxation.
She told me not to.
I’m going to take her advice lest I have another grand “What the hell was l thinking?” moment in May.
Even with 12 credits I still have to schedule in gym-time, dog time, work, writing…volunteering?
The nice thing about law school is that I’m never in want of things to do, even during break. It’s just a matter of not over-committing myself when everything looks interesting and doable – like portion control at a Chinese Buffet – and for now, partnership tax and the lemon chicken are on hold.
I came across this car during a dog walk:
This isn’t the only hand-painted car in the neighborhood, but the others are rougher floral jobs – whereas this looks like a tattoo. I wonder if this is an art car?
