Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Most amazing dream ever ...

Last night I dreamed that Brad Pitt gave me a backrub. Mmmm.

In my dream, I was at some fancy event, wearing a gorgeous evening gown. Silver, beaded, backless, spaghetti straps on my shoulders, rich material skimming down my body and flowing and swirling around my legs.

I was sitting on a bench in a packed auditorium, full of dressed-up people, in a row with other women in evening gowns. And all the men in the auditorium were supposed to rub the shoulders of all the women, for some reason. So men started filling in the benches behind the rows of women, pairing themselves up with us. I looked up, and Brad Pitt was coming towards me.

He sat behind me, put his hands on my bare shoulders, and started to massage them. I groaned out loud. I was in heaven. I turned to the woman next to me, who turned out to be my roommate from college, and said "Brad Pitt is rubbing my shoulders!" She smiled and said "Tom Cruise is rubbing mine!" And I thought to myself, "I'm glad my guy's not gay, but I guess a backrub from Tom Cruise is still probably pretty good," but I didn't say that out loud.

I closed my eyes and lost myself in the feeling of his hands on my body. He massaged deep, his hands strong and large, his fingers digging in, warming my body. His hands made their way down my back, his fingers sliding underneath the edges of my dress, gripping my back and massaging all my muscles. God it felt good.

His legs were spread, and he pulled me closer to him as he worked his magic, until my shoulders and head were resting in his lap as his hands moved and massaged my lower back, just above my ass. I started getting really turned on, and I couldn't help but moan out loud.

He pulled me up more, so that my back was resting against his hard chest, and his strong, long legs moved in closer, underneath my own, so that I was sitting in his lap. His arms wrapped around my body, his hands moved to my thighs, and he parted them, pulling up my dress so that he could touch my bare legs with his hands. He began to rub my inner thighs, working his way closer and closer to where they join, and I knew he was going to rub me there too. "Am I going to let him give me an orgasm with his hands, right here in public, surrounded by all these people?", I thought to myself. "Hell yes, I am."

And then, dammit, I woke up! Right then. Opened my eyes, saw the morning light streaming through my bedroom windows, and thought "damn, that was good ... why did I have to wake up? I wanted my Brad Pitt orgasm!"

Sigh. So that was my dream last night. And wow, it was a good one. It just didn't last quite long enough.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Here's To ... Fucking. Shit. I don't know.

Today is my boss's last day in the office. EVER. She's leaving me. I mean, us. Our office.

I am sitting in my own little office right now, waiting for her to wrap up a last couple things, so that I can take her out and drink some wine with her.

And I am trying not to get all sentimental, I mean too sentimental. She's just my boss; she's just leaving work. It's just allergies that have me a little teary-eyed. It's just the wine I've drunk that's making me somewhat emotional. Except, wait, we haven't gotten to the wine yet ... huh.

Dammit. Work's going to fucking suck without her here. But here's to her! God I'm going to miss her.

P.S. I did officially apply for her position today, the one she's vacating in our office, which would include for me, if I were to get it, a promotion, a raise, and the chance to supervise (hopefully, if they were to fill my own position once/if I were to vacate it) another attorney who would work with me. It only took for-fucking-ever for the big boss man to announce that, yes, he is indeed accepting applications from anyone interested in filling the slot she is now vacating. So now that he's finally, finally done that, the application has been submitted. Let the waiting continue commence.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

kids make life difficult

That was my profound realization over the weekend, as I helped my parents babysit my 9 year old niece and my 6 year old nephew. Normally I might not've helped as much as I did, by spending the entire weekend up until now I mean, except that my dad is recovering from heart surgery, and I knew that the two kids plus my sister's dog plus their own puppy would be too much for the two of them. As it turns out, it was almost too much for me, too.

My niece isn't the problem. At nine, she's at least mature enough, even though still a kid, to be polite and well-mannered most of the time, easy to get along with. But my nephew; holy toledo, my nephew...

He's a monster. He's that horribly out of control stereotypical screaming yelling brat that won't listen to a word you say and is out to antagonize everyone often portrayed in movies featuring stereotypical horribly out of control screaming yelling brats that don't listen to a word you say and that are out to antagonize everyone. And I now understand what my sister means when she tells me that on weekends, sometimes she feels like she needs a glass of wine at ten o'clock in the morning and refuses to apologize for indulging in one so early. Especially since that holy little terror wakes up raring to go at five a.m. and never seems to run out of steam.

The most difficult part, for me, was not being able to curse at him, frankly. I mean, when a person gets that out of control, is screaming that loudly, is yelling at you, saying things like "YOU'RE MEAN! GO AWAY! BOO - HA, I SCARED YOU! YOU CAN'T SIT THERE! PLAY WITH ME NOW! YOU SUCK! THAT'S MINE! BE QUIET, I'M TALKING! DON'T TOUCH ME! YOU CAN'T LEAVE THIS ROOM UNTIL I SAY SO!" -- basically trying to drive you completely insane on purpose -- you really, really, really want to yell back, "SHUT the FUCK UP, you LITTLE SHIT!"

Sigh. Maybe this is why it's a good thing I don't have any kids of my own. And now that I'm back home, I'm going to pour a stiff drink, turn on some loud music, and thank God I don't have any.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Ok, I know it's the law and all, but come on ... seriously? Seriously?

It should be Friday already, this week has been so long. But it's only Wednesday. The end of a long, tiresome Wednesday.

And I stopped at my neighborhood grocery store, the one I shop at ALL the FRIGGING TIME, and attempted to buy a few groceries, including a bottle of wine.

And the cashier, some young girl I'd never seen in there before, asked for my i.d. Okay, fine, yeah. But because my driver's license, which granted is quite old now, has started to come apart, with the lamination pulled away somewhat from the card itself, she said she didn't think she could accept it; had to ask her manager. And the manager told her not to accept it, and not to sell me the wine.

Really? Seriously?

I mean, I know it's a law, you can't accept as proof of legal age for purposes of selling alcohol an id that has been mutilated or damaged in any way, and lamination pulling away from the card qualifies as mutiliation or damage or whatever. But I've had a long, long day, working hard, at my job as an attorney, which I've been for TEN YEARS NOW, and THIRTY-FIVE YEAR OLD me was refused the purchase of a bottle of wine at my neighborhood freaking grocery store that I go to all the freaking time?

Were you just WANTING to make me cry?

Kidding, I didn't cry. Accepted it with more graciousness than I fucking wanted to, and just went to the corner quickie mart instead, where they not only know me also, and maybe even better, but on top of that probably don't give a shit, and didn't bother even asking for the i.d. So no harm, I've got my wine, home drinking it now. But still ... SERIOUSLY??????

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

"Sixteen Candles" takes me back to, well, when I was sixt... no, wait, ten; but still, it feels like it takes me back to when I was sixteen ...

"Ted, that's a Rolls Royce!"

"Ted, that's the prom queen!!"

Ted: "I told you guys I was hot."

"Ted, you're not just hot, you're a legend!"

Ted: "Would you guys just take the picture already?"

Man I love that movie. (It's on tv right now, in case you were wondering what brought that on.)

--- "Dammit Ma, I've got my head gear on!"
"Wake up!"
"Where the hell am I?"
"You're across the street from my church."
"You own a church?"

Ok seriously, why do I love this movie so much? Because damn, but I do.

Oh, boy. And I was trying to be so good.

(ok, so the text of this post didn't take the first time ... let me try it again....)

This year I'm sort of co-chairing my office's summer clerkship program. First time I've been this involved in it. I interviewed a bunch of law school students a couple weeks ago, along with another attorney, and we recently conducted a second round of interviews with about half of those students. I'm kinda excited about it, because I haven't been this involved with the clerkship program in the past; so, something new and different to do at work, and it's kinda fun to meet and talk to students. Seriously, we've had some interesting people apply; they actually kind of make me feel a little like an underachiever or something, a little boring in comparison, they've done so many cool things with their lives.

I think I'm a pretty good person to help out with the law clerk program in our office; I'm probably the youngest, or at least one of the youngest, attorneys in our office. So in some ways at least I think I can better relate to students than some of the older attorneys who've been doing this in the past. But I do have to remind myself to be good ... to not, say, take advantage of any cute young male students we might hire. Because, well, ahem, I may have done that in the past. Just a little. Ahem.

At the first round of interviews, I couldn't help but think, though, that one of the young guys totally reminded me of one of our former law clerks. A former law clerk who was also a cute young guy, who I may have, um, sexually harrassed just a little bit at work. (It was mutual though. That makes it ok, right? Sure. Yeah. Right. Of course.) But even though he reminded me of that former clerk, I was thinking to myself "I'm so not thinking of him THAT way, though. Oh no. He's just, you know, bright and interesting and stuff. That's all. That's why I'm interested. For totally professional reasons." Absolutely.

And when he recently came back for a second round of interviews, I was so totally in professional mode. I wasn't able to sit in on the interview from the beginning this time; rather I came in about halfway through, while he was talking to a few other attorneys. And I noticed that he seemed kind of nervous when I came in, the way he was talking to the others. A little ill at ease. Very unlike the last interview, where one of the things that had stood out to me was that he had a sort of dry, smart sense of humor, that he'd made me laugh a few times during the interview. So at one point when there was a pause in the conversation, I steered him back towards a funny story he'd mentioned last time, that had to do with his reason for deciding to go to law school (btw, only person I've ever met who actually had a funny story related to why he decided to go to law school), and I asked him a question about it and asked him to tell the others the story. (They hadn't heard it yet.) And that seemed to loosen him up at least a little, I thought. But it was still kind of hard to tell, since I hadn't been there from the beginning this time.

So after he left, I asked the other attorneys what they thought of him, and they all remarked on how nervous he'd seemed. "Until you came in," they all said.


I'm not saying there's anything there, or that I have any inappropriate thoughts or plans or anything, but I can't help but feel like all my good intentions might be just a little bit screwed. Because considering that I was already having, um, certain thoughts about him, and considering my past, well, it doesn't exactly bode well for my good intentions that all 3 attorneys agreed that he'd seemed really nervous in the interview ... until I came in. Hmmm.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Monday, you suck

This Monday morning is off to a terrific start. When I left the house this morning, I totally forgot to pick up some files I'd taken home over the weekend to review for a meeting I have later today; so I had to turn around and go back for them. Got to the office a half hour late. Was already second-guessing the way I did my hair this morning, thinking that the way I curled it and pulled it back and up looked a little old fashioned, which was confirmed for me in the elevator when a woman with really old fashioned hair herself told me how beautiful my hair looked. Then I stupidly stayed on the elevator after she got off and was wondering why it wasn't moving up to my floor, only to realize it wasn't moving because we were already at my floor. Dumb move. My CLE compliance report is due today, I just realized, and once again, I don't know where it even is. (This happens every year; I never learn my lesson.) Seriously, it's March already? Damn. And I'm starting to freak out a little bit because a case I have scheduled for trial next week that I was so sure was going to settle has not yet settled, and if I don't hear something good from the other lawyer by about mid-day today I'm totally going to have to scramble to get my case together for trial, including sending out a stack of witness subpoenas to people with only a week's notice and hoping none of them give me a hard time about it and praying my fucking case doesn't fall apart on me because of it in case I don't get the settlement I thought I would've had by now. And I have another hearing out of town on Thursday this week, and just found out I'll be spending all day on Wednesday interviewing law school students for summer clerkships; there goes my week. Fuck, I hate Mondays.