Saturday, December 13, 2014

Snobservations from a VERY long week

Before I start snobserving, if you don't follow me on Google Plus, you might not know that my boss was on the front page of the paper on Thursday, or that my workplace will be featured in a documentary.

That leads me to my first snobservation, that it used to be 15 minutes of fame.  Now, apparently, at least for buildings, it's only 6 minutes. :-(

It was a very long week, in part because Tuesday was Call Day, in which m colleagues and I are frantically busy but don't actually get a ton of work done, and partly because of the looming departure of one of said co-workers.

To the attorney who was upset with me for sending back an insufficiently documented Inventory, I say, "Mister, you can tell me that house is worth a cow and a sackful of magic beans, but if it's not in writing, I can't docket it."

To all of the attorneys who say that's not how they do it in [insert name of other county here], I say, "That's how we do it here, and that's why you should read the damn local rules before you try to file in a new-to-you county."

To the attorneys who ask about the rules of service and wonder when we started doing that, I say, "It's been almost a year, and you should read the damn local rules before you try to file in a court where you haven't practiced in a year."

To paralegals who call me asking how to do something, I say, "Ask your boss, she's the lawyer!"

And to the snooty-ass OSBA-certified paralegal who types things like, "Your welcome" I say, "My welcome says you need to brush up on your basic grammar."

Sunday, December 07, 2014


My city has decided to go with fabric recycling.  On the one hand, I am delighted to have an outlet for the pillows which are too manky to give to Goodwill, along with single socks and bras which have quit fighting the good fight.  On the other hand, it's a for-profit company called Simple Recycling doing this, and I don't know how many of my fellow citizens will go to their website and read the details.  

I hope that some, if not all, will, and that Goodwill, the Salvation Army and other charitable organizations will not be hurt.  I know that the scam drop-boxes have cut into donations to those same organizations.  And yes, the drop-boxes for used clothing are almost completely for-profit despite the misleading labeling. 

The one that ticks me off the most, of course, is the book "recycling" boxes.  When I saw a box in the local shopping center, I almost plowed into it with the car when I recognized the name of an online "store" from which I had purchased used books.  I still have not completely discarded the idea of tacking up a sign reading "THESE PEOPLE SELL BOOKS.  YOU'RE NOT DONATING TO ANYTHING BUT THEIR BOTTOM LINE."

I guess in regard to the fabrics, I will give the city the aforementioned manky pillows and donate clothes to Goodwill, but if you're reading this, please, please investigate before you give anything to anyone.  These days, almost anything can be turned for a profit, and that's fine if you know that's what's going to happen.  If that's not what you want, find a reputable charity which will take it.

Tuesday, December 02, 2014

A matter of taste

So yes, after at least five years of wanting to, this was the year I did this:

When the kits to turn your car into a reindeer first came out, they were at least $30 or so, and I passed.  But last Saturday I was at a local discount store and found this particular set for $3, so of course I grabbed it!

So I posted a picture on G+, and my buddy Rob commented to the effect that he thought I had better taste than to do this.*

Guess what, Rob?  I don't have better taste, I just have iron control over my terrible taste.  The louder, flashier, shinier, gaudier and more ridiculous it is, the better I like it.  But since I'm not going to get very far at work looking like a drag queen exploded in my closet, I pull back.

Way back.

And because I don't have the budget to light up a ghastly fantasy of outdoor lighting in garish colors every year, I skip it.

But the truth is that I have terrible, terrible taste, and for now, antlers on my car.

*The sister of my heart, the lovely Vio, commented that I needed a speaker which played "Gramma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" as I drove.

Friday, October 31, 2014

A long and winding update

Life at Casa de Jammies has been interesting since the end of September.  It's election season and my boss is running this year, so there have been some volunteer things, but there has also been a slew of replacement appliances both small and large.

First up was the coffee maker.  The old one was one of my parents' old coffee makers which had been replaced when they did an upgrade.  That one died early this year, and I used a 4-cup freebie one I'd gotten years ago from Gevalia while I fiddled around and researched and generally put off buying one.  I did have fun reading online reviews which included comments about how some coffee makers "let too much sentiment into the carafe" but it wasn't until mid-September that I finally made up my mind and got a Technivorm MoccaMaster.  It is worth every single penny.  It's quiet, quick, energy-efficient, makes great coffee and I don't even care that it isn't programmable.  You also get to watch the bubbles as the water boils for the coffee!

Next up was the water heater, which was more than 15 years old, and then a new dishwasher, which was just installed today.  The dishwasher was actually delivered a week ago, but the Home Depot installers wouldn't do anything because the water shutoff was in the basement.  I hired an actual plumber and it turned out to be a bigger job than either of us anticipated.  He was here for over three hours, but it's working now and it's lovely.  As a bonus, because he had to turn off the breaker for the back half of the house, I got the guest bedroom neatened up and all the houseplants into the garage because I wasn't sitting in front of the computer.

When the plumber was done today, he asked what I wanted to do with the old dishwasher.  I asked him to take it to the curb, and he expressed a little concern about whether the city would take it.  I told him that if I had to, I'd call for a special pickup and pay for it, but I was pretty sure a picker would find it before Monday.

After he left, I brushed my teeth, tossed the dog in the basement and ran out to do my grocery shopping.  I was on my way in less than 10 minutes, but my driveway was blocked by a giant pickup truck whose driver had just chucked the old dishwasher in the bed.  I told him he'd never back out of my driveway, but if he pulled into the turnaround I could get past him and then he could get turned around and out.  He said thank you and "I just had to have the dishwasher" which made me grin.

So all is well and warm at Casa de Jammies, and I have had more baths in the last 10 days than I think I had in the 10 months prior!

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Sometimes I forget...

that MS is a killer.  Then I go to the calling hours of a man only three years my senior, who only in the last few years has re-connected with his grown sons and met his grandchildren, and I remember.

I have been so lucky that MS has only lightly touched me, and overall has not diminished my quality of life.  But the flip side of that coin is that I have a responsibility to be mindful of my luck.  I don't always know what is right, but I know that I can always try harder.

So as I wish healing to the family of a man too young to die, I resolve once more to think about who I am and how I treat others.

Saturday, September 06, 2014

SRK is not nearly as fun as MFK*

But I still need to make a dent in the drifts of paper claiming all the flat surfaces in my house, so I sit here quietly, sorting everything into piles of Shred, Recycle or Keep.

Growing up is severely over-rated.


Thursday, September 04, 2014

I am mercifully NOT currently perched on Rex's Erection with a water gun in my hand

Mercifully because after three days of "Do this.  No, we don't like this.  Do that.  Ha!  Fooled you--do that, but someplace else" from the miserable troglodytes at Express Scripts, I finally have my Lexapro refill.

Ever since Tuesday, when my nurse practitioner called in a new script to my local grocery store pharmacy, Express Shits has turned down the script twice, not told me until I called them, and then given me directions that turned out also not to work.  Everyone I had face-to-face interactions with was so very nice that I couldn't vent my rage, which just made it harder to cope.

Finally, after a second pharmacy was called and was willing to call the first pharmacy to transfer the prescription (since it had been e-mailed in, not faxed or written on paper) and I'd spent most of my breaks and lunches on hold, I got my Lexapro.  Of course, I had to wait for nearly 45 minutes at the second pharmacy because Express Shits kept asking for more info that they didn't have, but I got it.  I no longer feel like a donkey on the edge, and I am no longer tempted to climb a tower with a Super-Soaker in my hand.

Oh, and stop that, you dirty-minded people, I'm talking about a local landmark. :P