caminante haciendo camino
some thoughts on a wednesday
2004-04-14 | 5:28 p.m.

Yesterday was Momís birthday. At her request, we kept things fairly low key. I bought her a summer outfit (yes, itís practically summer here in Arizona) and some books. My avid love of books comes from her. So sheís always happy with some new reads.

Since it was a workday, we ordered in Chinese food instead of going out. Weíll do a celebratory lunch this weekend with Rich (the Brother), sister in law, and Rianna.

We sang happy birthday Ė off key, of course Ė and enjoyed a delicious ice cream cake.

My relationship with my Mom is one of the things I treasure the most. We have always been close. We rarely had the typical mother-daughter clashes. As Iíve grown older, our relationship has grown into a valued friendship. I respect her and value her opinion. She, in turn, respects me and values my opinion. Sheís been a stalwart source of support and encouragement. We talk together, laugh together, cry together. When my world went all topsy-turvy on Monday, she was the one person I could talk to about it. Iím pretty damn lucky to have her.

* * *

Still no real news on Project Get a Damn Job. My judge is going to put a call into The Powers that Be tomorrow. Hopefully that will get things rolling.

If it doesnít, I donít know what will. That will be three calls from three judges. What the hell do they want? A call from God herself? Iím not sure if that can be arranged, but Iím willing to give it a try.

Anyway, just in case The Divine Power canít give me a personal recommendation and this federal agency decides to blow off the best damn lawyer to come knocking at their door (no self-confidence issues here), Iím going to work on Plan B of Project Get a Damn Job this weekend. Iíll submit my resume to the county prosecutorís office, to the state attorney generalís office, and to a handful of law firms that I might be able to tolerate working at for while.

Iím starting to get antsy about not having a post-clerkship job. I donít want to get so anxious that I wind up taking a job that Iím going to be miserable at. Iím still holding out hope for that federal job. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me, will ya?

* * *

Germs. Theyíre everywhere. They follow two year olds like kids to an ice cream truck.

Since Carissa moved in with us, weíve had a continual battle against assorted viruses, bacteria, and general ickyness. It seems to pass through the household in waves. No sooner has the last victim shaken the vestiges of the last microscopic enemy, than the next wave of coughs, sore throats, sniffles, or stomach aches hits.

Yesenia swears that pickle juice is the answer. The cure for all that ails you. Last night I resolutely forced down a quarter cup of pickle juice. And still today I feel like crap. Stuffy and achy head, sore throat, icky stomach.

Apparently these germs are mightier than pickle juice.

* * *

I wasnít going to do it. But I just canít help myself.

I wasnít going to comment on last nightís press conference. Really. Whatís there to say? Other than the bastards cancelled American Idol for that drivel.

To those who are already in his corner, Iím sure they loved his stammering and repeated blowing of hot air. (What? You didnít see him blow hot air? Check out this picture.)

For the rest of us. Last nightís press conference simply confirmed what we already know. That man is an idiot.

But, my mom always taught me to help those less fortunate than myself. So, today I put aside my frustration, anger, and (yes) embarrassment caused by our president, and decided to charitably help the intellectually less fortunate out. Consider it your civic duty. Help Bush figure out how heís fucked up.

Listening To: Toby Lightman, "Devils and Angels"
Reading: United States Postal Service v. Flamingo Industries (aren't you glad you asked)
Feeling: stuffy and achey

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