tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50374008951704851502024-03-12T19:29:56.413-07:00One day my paycheck will match my dreams...legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-49422031717211991292009-02-20T05:16:00.001-08:002009-02-20T05:20:42.922-08:00Let's See If This WorksI've moved my site over to <a href="http://www.legalmisfit.com/"> www.legalmisfit.com </a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-10162262634380657432009-02-08T14:23:00.000-08:002009-02-08T14:43:05.464-08:00My PlaygroundVegas seems to be my backyard...the funny thing is that the further away I move, the more times I seem to go...<br />Here J-Unit and I are at Hoover Dam. Really, I added this picture because it looks like I got cleavage. The water looks nice though, no?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9bmrpnjaI/AAAAAAAAAdg/eFpszDcu7Os/s1600-h/143264129603_0_ALB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9bmrpnjaI/AAAAAAAAAdg/eFpszDcu7Os/s200/143264129603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300556006548802978" /></a><br /><br />Showing off my Asian-ness<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9b42_Id-I/AAAAAAAAAdo/rkUtwGdi6aE/s1600-h/451144129603_0_ALB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9b42_Id-I/AAAAAAAAAdo/rkUtwGdi6aE/s200/451144129603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300556318829475810" /></a><br /><br />Its even funnier getting a non-Asian to do it<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9cKR580SI/AAAAAAAAAdw/055vpMawIlQ/s1600-h/374734129603_0_ALB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9cKR580SI/AAAAAAAAAdw/055vpMawIlQ/s200/374734129603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300556618113274146" /></a><br /><br />This is Z-Stmts driving J-Unit and I around. She's a lot tougher than she looks. The car--not so much. I can't remember the last time I was in a car where I had to roll down windows manually as well as lock each door individually. I'm not sure why we bothered locking them--who is gonna want our Aveo? (As you can see, Z-Stmts made the best of it) <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9cdXy2MnI/AAAAAAAAAd4/O1Y8T9mUuRw/s1600-h/565614129603_0_ALB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9cdXy2MnI/AAAAAAAAAd4/O1Y8T9mUuRw/s200/565614129603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300556946111607410" /></a><br /><br />The weather was very nice at Hoover Dam. A bit chilly, but incredibly sunny. Here's a pic of the Colorado River (about the only thing I learned was that the Colorado River was a force to be reckoned with, so the Hoover Dam was commissioned during the Great Depression to put the water to go use).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9dzOAgdSI/AAAAAAAAAeA/643_3VAWL58/s1600-h/IMG_0146.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9dzOAgdSI/AAAAAAAAAeA/643_3VAWL58/s200/IMG_0146.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300558420953298210" /></a><br /><br />I can't remember why there were angels, but supposedly if you rub its toes, it'll bring you good luck in Vegas. Let me tell you through first hand experience, that's a load of crap.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9e2dsq1xI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/BKXb9SwOIXU/s1600-h/718415129603_0_ALB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9e2dsq1xI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/BKXb9SwOIXU/s200/718415129603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300559576216295186" /></a><br /><br />Saturday night we went to dinner off the Strip, at Swish. Its a shabu shabu place. What does that mean? Basically I paid to cook my own food. Fantastic though! Too bad I can't make food this yummy in my own kitchen...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9eVClnr7I/AAAAAAAAAeI/UQ65KALGgg4/s1600-h/443364129603_0_ALB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SY9eVClnr7I/AAAAAAAAAeI/UQ65KALGgg4/s200/443364129603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300559002003287986" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-52078364872788149892009-01-25T10:44:00.001-08:002009-01-26T15:21:30.518-08:00It Just Doesn't Add UpI went bowling last night at AMF Pleasant Valley with the BF and his old co-workers. Seeing as how I completely suck at bowling, the fact that I bowled 5 games is pretty damn impressive. The first two games were unforgettable. <br /><br />But look at this: <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SX0ypk5v80I/AAAAAAAAAdI/2i_TrdOeaJM/s1600-h/DSC00658.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SX0ypk5v80I/AAAAAAAAAdI/2i_TrdOeaJM/s200/DSC00658.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295444426719490882" /></a><br />The 125 is me!!! 'A' is for 'Asia.' I was representing my peeps. Anyway, the important part is that I broke 100! This is the third time I've done it, and I'm sure the last.<br /><br />What's really amazing was the next game where I got 4 strikes!!! 4 fucking strikes bitches!! And I didn't break 100. Sigh...I dunno how that happens. <br /><br />I had forgotten how much fun bowling can be. Especially when the lights go down and its Rock n Bowl. Of course the fact that the place darkened, combined with me playing 3 games previously meant that I did nothing but sucked at the end. I thought that my arms would be sore the next day, but surprisingly, that wasn't the case. Probably due to the fact that my ball was only a 9 pounder.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SX01ONzO9kI/AAAAAAAAAdY/3waeHV5v1uk/s1600-h/DSC00657.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SX01ONzO9kI/AAAAAAAAAdY/3waeHV5v1uk/s200/DSC00657.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295447255196563010" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-1781795459136738752009-01-20T05:59:00.000-08:002009-01-20T06:33:15.419-08:00Winter Wonderland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SXXbEpNd0qI/AAAAAAAAAcE/885AKi3NSPk/s1600-h/DSC00623.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SXXbEpNd0qI/AAAAAAAAAcE/885AKi3NSPk/s200/DSC00623.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293377809872179874" /></a><br />ITS SNOWING!!! I've never lived in a place where it actually snowed! I've seen snow, but that's about it. And now its snowing!!! School has been canceled for far far less, but this year maybe they think people have finally learned how to drive in snow. Me? Hell no. I'm Asian and I'm female. Putting me on the road in this condition is a stupid and deadly trifecta. <br /><br />Across the street is the neighborhood pool, but the land it sits on is slightly elevated, making it a soft hill. Perfect for sledding. I wake David up and ask him where his sled is so Jessie and I can go down the hill. 'I don't have one' is his reply. WTF??? So no sledding for me...sigh...<br /><br />Here's Jessie running around in the backyard. She went totally ape shit, but that's probably because she had to do her business and couldn't figure out where the grass was. Basically, she couldn't sniff out the correct spot to lay her goodies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SXXe8P4mkvI/AAAAAAAAAcM/7LoLtDhqGDQ/s1600-h/DSC00631.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SXXe8P4mkvI/AAAAAAAAAcM/7LoLtDhqGDQ/s200/DSC00631.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293382063681344242" /></a><br /><br />This is the cul-de-sac and my car. Totally nuts! You can't even see where the driveway ends and the grass begins! I declare today a hot chocolate and pj day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SXXgExY9ytI/AAAAAAAAAcU/2h9daBjdX6Q/s1600-h/DSC00624.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SXXgExY9ytI/AAAAAAAAAcU/2h9daBjdX6Q/s200/DSC00624.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293383309626034898" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-56217549931915842232009-01-13T05:36:00.000-08:002009-01-13T05:56:07.043-08:00Bad InfluenceI've heard that once people get into a relationship, they tend to "let themselves go" and gain a few pounds. I'm sad to admit that that's true. I don't think its necessarily because I don't care how I look anymore or whatnot, but the sheer fact that there always seems to be other things that need to be done that are more important than slaving away at the gym. That and since I'm busy with the avalanche otherwise known as school, I'm reduced to eating out a lot. Or eating nothing, which has happened a few times. Neither are healthy, I know.<br /><br />The BF and I have made it our New Years resolution to lose weight. Well, its actually broader than that-just to be healthier. Since I have Fridays off, I should go to the gym. But did I? No. I had to study. And then I decided to be Martha Stewart and do the whole cooking thing. I never realized how hard it is to prepare meals. I had to troll through all the grocery weekly ads to find whats on sale, make a list, and make sure I go to the cheapest place (there are 3 grocery stores near BF). I got boneless pork, chicken breast, mushroom, asparagus, squash, pomegranate, and a whole bunch of other stuff that somehow added up to $50. Obviously there's still room for improvement on the whole budgeting thing. At least we're not eating out as much.<br /><br />So I've cook twice in 4 days. Not bad. And it was edible. And I'm alive. And the BF is alive. Overall, a success! I'm going to try to do this at least 3-4 nights a week. It really all depends on my class load. But seeing as how I'm all out lazy and read the morning of instead of the night before, I really don't have an excuse.<br /><br />In addition to eating healthier, we're walking in the evenings. Its a little hard now since it gets dark at 5 ish, and its cold (its supposed to be 12 degrees this weekend!). Why else? Because of me OUR DOG IS OVERWEIGHT. Before I took my BF's life over by storm, Jessie was healthy. She weighed the correct amount, yada yada yada. Enter me.<br /><br />I have this propensity to buy her all sorts of goodies. Especially ones that are shaped and decorated (because she understands this). I like getting her bone shaped doggie biscuits dipped in carob, dipped in peanut butter, dipped in just about anything. And she just <span style="font-style:italic;">inhales</span> it all. I got her treats that are shaped like bacon and eggs, peanut butter balls, apple and cinnamon biscuits, etc. She's basically tried it all. I declared her birthday two weeks ago and got her a doggie cake. <br /><br />The result? In the 7.5 months I've known her, Jessie's gained 10 POUNDS. We put her on the scale at Petsmart before her bath, and she's a little over 9 lbs heavier. We have to walk her now. She's right on track to the Freshman 15. Actually, she walks me. Its ok-its good for both of us.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SWydUv_SW6I/AAAAAAAAAbM/ucVzzQR-d-w/s1600-h/IMG_0697.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SWydUv_SW6I/AAAAAAAAAbM/ucVzzQR-d-w/s200/IMG_0697.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290776642058345378" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-20552795344596915302009-01-06T11:15:00.001-08:002009-01-06T11:43:43.399-08:00Vegas Baby, VegasIf I had the money, I'd enter in the MBA Poker Tournament in Vegas Jan. 16-18th. However, the gambling gods have different plans for me. That and I royally suck at poker. Nevermind though, I'm going Super Bowl weekend! I will be out of Vegas by the time Super Bowl starts, but I will be there to party. And hopefully expand my budget. Expand, not contract. Well honestly, my bank account can't shrink anymore. <br /><br />I went to Vegas over Christmas. Its not quite the family feel-good holiday hot spot, but it was fun. The main thing I did was play craps. I won more money than anticipated. Hooray for me for even leaving Vegas with a profit. And the one thing I learned about gambling is that its impossible to win money playing low minimums. I spent an hour playing at the $5 table and walked away with $30. I spent 30 minutes playing at the $10 table and walked away with $150. Too bad its already spoken for. And damn you to the little Asian lady who bet $10 on me and walked away with an extra $500--I demand a cut of that action!<br /><br />For my communications class on Thursday, I have to present on a "process" for 3-5 minutes. In all my infinite wisdom, the only thing I can think to present on is how to play craps. Not sure its a process, but its something I know about. Good enough, no? We'll see when I get my feedback. What I should really talk about is how to spend money. I seem to be an expert at that. With an extra emphasis on things I neither need nor afford.<br /><br />So Super Bowl weekend is also my birthday weekend. I'm scared. I'm going to be 29. My last year in my 20s. I'd like to list all my accomplishments but none come to mind just yet. Everyone tells me that the 30s are more enjoyable than the 20s, but I secretly think it is because they are in their 30s, and if they could go back to their 20s, they'd do it in a heartbeat. I'd actually hate to know what my parents think. Bet they never imagined they'd still be partially supporting me after undergrad. I find myself using the phrase, "oh when I grow up I want to..." Peter Pan Syndrome Victim #48362419 here. I've thought about making a list of things I want to accomplish in life, but then it seems too Bucket Listy, and I don't want to feel like I'm going to croak any day now.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-91626366265154401432009-01-02T05:16:00.000-08:002009-01-03T04:08:17.262-08:00Christmas at BiltmoreImmediately after my last final, the BF and I went to Biltmore to see the Christmas extravaganza. It was nice, although not as done up as I had hoped. And still...no pictures allowed inside. No wonder it's not an Asian tour stop. The big tree in the dining room was a sight to see though. It had to be over 20 feet tall, and unlike mall trees, it was actually one tree, not 30 perfectly put together. The Estate had to buy two of them because each only lasts about two weeks. So when its time to change the tree, they only have one night to remove all Christmas ornaments, take down the tree, put up the new one, and get all the ornaments back on. Once again, too bad I couldn't take a picture of it.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4WMTtD5MI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/2nwaZyRMGzk/s1600-h/DSC00555.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4WMTtD5MI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/2nwaZyRMGzk/s200/DSC00555.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286687413283054786" /></a> This is a pic of the front of the house. I really thought that the house would be outlined with Christmas lights. Obviously that wasn't the case...maybe my tastes are tacky or something.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4XcroiQXI/AAAAAAAAAaE/2WIGdjwax2c/s1600-h/DSC00565.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4XcroiQXI/AAAAAAAAAaE/2WIGdjwax2c/s200/DSC00565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286688794096058738" /></a> Here's a pic of the house from the road that leads to the garden, winery, and outdoor center.<br /><br />The next day we took the Segway tour. It was way better than riding on a regular Segway because these were off-roading Segways. The tires were super fat and seemed all-terrain like. Here's us in front of the reflection pond. The pond is crazy because it had to be far back enough so that the whole reflection of the house fit.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4bKBMPHzI/AAAAAAAAAaM/pC6lw_NT4Gs/s1600-h/DSC00571.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4bKBMPHzI/AAAAAAAAAaM/pC6lw_NT4Gs/s200/DSC00571.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286692871511940914" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4b8nWavKI/AAAAAAAAAaU/mlZkr1bfafU/s1600-h/DSC00575.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4b8nWavKI/AAAAAAAAAaU/mlZkr1bfafU/s200/DSC00575.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286693740748651682" /></a><br />At first I was scared shitless of hoping on the Segway. Even though we had an instructor, it wasn't like he had the ability to stop me if I went careening off course. We started off in Turtle mode, where the fastest is 6 mph. That was practice mode. When it came time to go on the course we got upped to Rabbit, where the fastest is 12 mph. That rocked. By the end I was a Segway fiend, but it took a while to get there. At first it was hard for me to balance. The machine is pretty big, and I had a hard time controlling it in the beginning. To go forward, you lean forward. To go back, you lean back. So when I was going forward and tried to stop, I would lean back a little to far and start going backwards. It took me a minute to realize it, and then another minute to figure out that I had to lean forward slightly to stop. By the time my instructor told me I was going backwards and I actually stopped, a good 30 feet were between us. Good thing quick thinking and reflexes weren't required to operate this bad boy. Either that, or good thing no one else was on the trial at the same time we were... Although I think the Segway rocks, I can see why it never really caught on as the new travel medium. The ones we rode cost $5,500! Ouch if we broke it!<br /><br />After the Segway, we did the Landrover Experience Driving School. This is my second time, and luckily I got the same instructor (he remembered me!). Since it had been raining the few days and hours beforehand, we had to take a different route. Why the instructor didn't want to use the winch was beyond me.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4eJSvoGUI/AAAAAAAAAac/nFTRB2XDKt0/s1600-h/DSC00581.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4eJSvoGUI/AAAAAAAAAac/nFTRB2XDKt0/s200/DSC00581.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286696157578795330" /></a> I've told the BF many times that I 'need' a Range Rover. And he always rolled his eyes at me. But this time...wah la!!! He loved it! (Even the heated steering wheel). <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4fkBJ2yOI/AAAAAAAAAak/O6Qcl44wuWU/s1600-h/DSC00583.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4fkBJ2yOI/AAAAAAAAAak/O6Qcl44wuWU/s200/DSC00583.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286697716225067234" /></a><br /><br />I got the last ten minutes of the lesson and ended up in Superbowl sized mud pit. It took around 8 tries to get out of it. <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4h3YXOndI/AAAAAAAAAa0/4srKziorvQ8/s1600-h/DSC00589.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SV4h3YXOndI/AAAAAAAAAa0/4srKziorvQ8/s200/DSC00589.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286700247895940562" /></a><br /><br />We've decided that when we make enough money (or win the lottery), we're getting a Range Rover. Our dog would look fantastic with her head sticking out the window. I guess this will happen after I finish school, get a job, and bank out the ying yang.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-81021904467454573242008-12-29T07:19:00.000-08:002008-12-29T07:53:30.108-08:00The BearI went to the Rockets vs Jazz game a couple of nights ago. (I heart Yao Ming). Here are some pics that my bro shot:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjsEtscoxI/AAAAAAAAAXg/D1JP7Q-YiXY/s1600-h/IMG_0100.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjsEtscoxI/AAAAAAAAAXg/D1JP7Q-YiXY/s200/IMG_0100.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285233728448930578" /></a> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjssaY3jkI/AAAAAAAAAXo/PkoYlWqrrcg/s1600-h/IMG_0101.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjssaY3jkI/AAAAAAAAAXo/PkoYlWqrrcg/s200/IMG_0101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285234410461302338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjxEVwavmI/AAAAAAAAAYg/SXykY0AcBsM/s1600-h/IMG_0104.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjxEVwavmI/AAAAAAAAAYg/SXykY0AcBsM/s200/IMG_0104.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285239219581271650" /></a><br /><br />And then here are the pics that I took:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjwrTmmxuI/AAAAAAAAAYY/u0SnuPt6opM/s1600-h/IMG_0097.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjwrTmmxuI/AAAAAAAAAYY/u0SnuPt6opM/s200/IMG_0097.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285238789506516706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjxU9nijpI/AAAAAAAAAYo/C-ntsQemuTs/s1600-h/IMG_0106.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjxU9nijpI/AAAAAAAAAYo/C-ntsQemuTs/s200/IMG_0106.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285239505159360146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjxmZLrAcI/AAAAAAAAAYw/XisGsfxYeMU/s1600-h/IMG_0111.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjxmZLrAcI/AAAAAAAAAYw/XisGsfxYeMU/s200/IMG_0111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285239804616442306" /></a><br /><br />Oh yeah, Rockets won in double OT =)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjyZBHdkiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/J_ZxkymP0zk/s1600-h/IMG_0096.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SVjyZBHdkiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/J_ZxkymP0zk/s200/IMG_0096.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285240674329661986" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-5134884786521260262008-12-09T05:08:00.000-08:002008-12-09T05:20:08.062-08:00Senior Citizen DiscountAs much as I try to deny it, the truth is smacking me silly in the face: I am getting old. Not physically (no wrinkles and I'm under 30). Not mentally (mind is sharp as a tack-I hope). But I'm in terms of my lifestyle. I can't remember the last time I stepped foot in a bar that wasn't for a networking event. Hell, I can't remember the last time I stayed up past 10:30. <br /><br />Last weekend the BF and I stayed in. I bought a puzzle. 1000 pieces and I finished in less than 24 hours. (Did I mention that I'm under 30?). While at Walmart looking for said puzzle, I came across Yahtzee for $5. That went in the cart too. <br /><br />There was an article on Yahoo! recently about TV shows. The highest rated 'unhip' show is NCIS, which consistently ranks 4th, but doesn't even make a blip on the radar with viewers ages 18-49. So either its extremely popular with SAT studying students or extremely popular with those nearing retirement. The BF and I watch it religiously. <br /><br />All we need to do is jump in on his father's weekly bridge game at the neighborhood church and we're set.<br /><br />Oh, and we love Scrabble.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-38541609413097635612008-10-28T03:16:00.000-07:002008-10-28T03:30:06.149-07:00Disgruntled StudentDear Microecon Professor:<br /><br />Two words: you SUCK. Oops. Make that three. You SUCK ROYALLY. I'm not sure what you thought you were teaching, but I can pretty much guarantee you it WAS NOT micro econ. What's the point of giving us Mickey Mouse problems during class and reaming us in the ass for homeworks and then further kicking us to the curb for finals? <br /><br />There were two questions on your final that actually pertained to class. The others? The trappings of your own imagination. And who the fuck gives us a problem so hard that out of 280 students, only 5-10% are supposed to complete it? What's the point of testing us over something you haven't taught? And when you were totally demolished last year in student feedback, why put yourself through that torture again? Are you a masochist? You know you have the worse rep out of all professors, so why add to that? Just a heads up-it doesn't do you any good.<br /><br />Thank you for my 'P' though. Its good to know that the As I got in undergrad were not in vain.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br /><br />Legalmisfitlegalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-70072621961631517412008-10-19T07:27:00.001-07:002008-10-19T08:34:45.101-07:00Nature-esqI know I haven't written anything in a while. It's hard with school. Not only is there a time constraint (blog or learn linear regression? oh the choices), but there's also the fact that I don't want to offend anyone or write something that I'll later regret (which pretty much emcompasses everything). Tomorrow is the first day of the new quarter. I did the undergraduate thing on the semester system. Let me tell you-its much different. The most frequent question I get asked is, "how do you learn enough to go through a midterm in 4 weeks and after another 4 weeks finals?" The answer? I don't. The quarter system involves a lot of cramming, and even more of the "next quarter I'm not going to fall behind and let this happen again" business. I pretty much know I'll start to slack after week 1. Its pretty much a given. Although I can't fathom going back to a semester system, I can't really say I've learned as much as I've wanted to under the quarter system.But on not better things...The day after my last final or "fuck you" final, I high tailed it out to Biltmore with J-Unit. <br /><br />This was trip number 2 for me, but a lot more fun because J-Unit is more adventurous and more fun than my parents. I plan to go one more time with the BF when the Christmas festivities are in full swing. Somehow, knowing that, I got suckered into a 12 month pass. It gets worse later. But the 12 month pass got J-Unit a 15 buck discount on her admission price, and 10% off food and souvenirs. Somehow this made it worth the extra 40 bucks. No cameras were allowed inside the house (how un-ASIAN), so I have no interior pics to share. <br /><br />However, the real fun was our outdoor activities. Forgive me for thinking that my 12month pass got us discounts on the outdoor activities. Because I didn't learn the first time around, I ended up upgrading my 12 month access pass to an "Explore Biltmore" pass for outdoorsy stuff. We rented mountain bikes. It sounds harmless, but the last time I was on a bike Bush Senior was in office. Surprisingly, all those sayings about riding a bike after two decades pretty much holds true. The first 10 minutes were a bit rough I have to admit. I actually didn't think I was going to make it back up after going 50 yards down a wrong path. The paved path and going downhill-NO PROB. Actually the first 30 minutes we thought we were the shit. Well, I thought we were the shit. And then all hell broke loose.I want to tell the worker bee at the bike rental desk that looks can be deceiving. She told us that we should make it up to the house with no problem. Oh there were big problems. The one and only one being that I wasn't fit enough to ride uphill. I had to walk my bike up most of the way. Is this why I rented a bike? I think not. Going back was a breeze. Except for the steep downhill section, where I was having difficulty balancing saying a last prayer and hoping that I don't hit a rock, fly off, and crack my head open. Mountain biking was a good intro to our outdoorsy activities. At least we've been on a bike before. Kayaking was next. I'm not a fan of non-shower/tub water. Meaning, I don't swim, I don't go into ponds, lakes, or any of the 7 oceans. Here is our Missing Persons poster:<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SPtJU-zPZII/AAAAAAAAAWw/Q9Y7GfMdAts/s1600-h/366506325603_0_ALB%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SPtJU-zPZII/AAAAAAAAAWw/Q9Y7GfMdAts/s200/366506325603_0_ALB%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258877614689313922" /></a> Just in case we fell and got lost. Although there's only one way to float along a river, J-Unit and I still have a high chance of getting lost. We're that good.I was scared shitless of kayaking. How do I know how to steer or go forward? They gave lessons on going backwards, but the opposite direction seemed to be more important. Strangely enough, kayaking is intuitive. Not to say its easy, but its easy enough to pick up the basics. What our 5 minute crash course instructor failed to instruct us on was upending ourselves from rocks. The noise of grating over the rock was like imminent death. How much would it suck if I died of starvation or dehydration because I'm too fat and my arms are too weak to be able to dislodge myself and my kayak from rocks?? I can't even begin to fathom the embarrasment. And because we are that good, J-Unit and I got stuck on rocks probably on average once every 1.5 minutes. A fish struggles by flailing and flapping around when taken out of water. The only way I could figure out how to get myself unstuck from the rocks was the shimmy back and forth and side to side. I'm sure it was a sight to behold, but I was desperate. Already we were way beyond everyone else, but on top of that, the guides told us they would get worried if we didn't make it to the end within 2 hours. Most people are proud when they graduate, get a promotion, buy a new house. I was proud when we made it without falling into the water and without anyone rescuing us. Trust me-that was an accomplishment.The next day we did the Land Rover Experience Driving School. This was the main reason why we wanted to go to the Biltmore anyway. Let me just say that it was AMAZING. I think everyone should try it. Like the instructor said, it was definitely the most fun I've had at 5 mph. <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SPtTBzIW50I/AAAAAAAAAW4/-d7zYlhSEQo/s1600-h/IMG_0013.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SPtTBzIW50I/AAAAAAAAAW4/-d7zYlhSEQo/s200/IMG_0013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258888280255424322" /></a> Talk about adding to the list of things we "need." A freaking Range Rover.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-77955113554481479182008-08-29T08:47:00.000-07:002008-08-29T09:09:24.030-07:00What I CovetThere was a point in time when I liked the "finer" things in life. Lacoste sportswear, LV purses. A pair of Louboutins. These are things that I'd actually save up money for (except for Louboutins. Still waiting to magically afford my first pair).So this is warping effect of b school: I have an hp 12c calculator. For those who don't know, its a total geek calculator. For the most part I don't know how to use it, but I love it. Well, of the roughly forty five buttons and hundred different functions packaged in, I can use about 6 of them. Its not nice odds, but I learn a bit more everyday.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLgcH6dEYrI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/YqfxQ2khcIY/s1600-h/12c_154x117.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLgcH6dEYrI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/YqfxQ2khcIY/s200/12c_154x117.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239969088721412786" /></a>What makes this calculator so much cooler? It can store formulas and functions. Mine can't do that. =( So of course I want this now.What happened to the days when I drooled over this?But then the other day I noticed that a classmate had the PLATINUM hp 12c calculator. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLgcnV_P7vI/AAAAAAAAAWY/x5vxvEMb6i4/s1600-h/51PbygwLWYL__SL500_AA280_.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLgcnV_P7vI/AAAAAAAAAWY/x5vxvEMb6i4/s200/51PbygwLWYL__SL500_AA280_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239969628688477938" /></a>What's the difference? Its PLATINUM!!! Functionally, it's the same. But man, how I want this new calculator.This would be bad enough if it was the end of it.But its not.A classmate got the hp 17b II financial calculator. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLgeA8oGy8I/AAAAAAAAAWg/21BtfWmT3ZA/s1600-h/f2234a_New_300.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLgeA8oGy8I/AAAAAAAAAWg/21BtfWmT3ZA/s200/f2234a_New_300.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239971168068750274" /></a><br /><br />What happened to the good ol' days when I drooled over this?<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLge4JBr5NI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Uo0lqOxsfq4/s1600-h/0452504009834_275x275.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SLge4JBr5NI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Uo0lqOxsfq4/s200/0452504009834_275x275.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239972116290069714" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-79220018432958371832008-08-06T15:38:00.000-07:002008-08-06T15:49:35.268-07:00Directionally ChallengedSometimes I buy two similar products just to have them. Case in point: I own a 30G iPod. I love him. His name is O'Malley. I jam to Bon Jovi and Britney Spears in the car and at the gym. A month ago I was in the Apple store and realized that a Shuffle was only 80 bucks (because I'm also trying to save Africa from AIDS). I figured it would be good to take to the gym, especially since I want to start running (or jog, or powerwalk). I could use O'Malley, but I talked myself into buying a Shuffle because it was lighter, and I can just clip it to my t-shirt and away I go. For the record, I've used it twice.<br /><br />Sometimes I just need to suck up and buy two similar products. Case in point: I met a classmate the other day for dinner at a restaurant neither of us have been to. I'm cool with going to new places since I have a Magellan. Well, for the most part getting to new places should consume far less fuel than life pre-Magellan. So I put in the destination, and away I go. <br /><br />I find the restaurant on the first try (which is an amazing feat), and around 100 feet further there's a parking lot. Its actually a parking lot for the restaurant, a bar, and a grocery store among other things. I think that's what killed me.<br /><br />15 minutes later I'm still walking up and down the sidewalk. I can't fucking find the restaurant. The same restaurant I saw 15 minutes ago that was next to the damn parking lot. After 5 more minutes of walking, I admit defeat and ask a couple walking by where the restaurant is. "Oh-all you have to do is turn around, walk back where you came from, past the parking lot, and its on the other side."<br /><br />So what do I need? In addition to a GPS unit for my car, I need a handheld one. Stupid doesn't even begin to describe me.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-33838424925882495482008-07-07T05:33:00.000-07:002008-07-07T05:59:46.226-07:00The One That Got AwayIt started off with:<br /><br />Me: do you have a fire extinguisher?<br />Bf: No...<br /><br />But quickly disintegrated to:<br /><br />Me: hey! Why aren't you studying?<br />Bf: Well its hard to concentrate when you're cooking and ask me if I have a fire extinguisher<br /><br />And ended with:<br /><br />Bf: (looking at my cooking) hummm...maybe I should get a fire extinguisher<br /><br /><br />I like to take pictures of the meals I cook. Its proof that well...I can do something that resembles cooking and the results are something that resembles something edible.<br /><br />Last night I cooked. But I don't have a picture to show for it. It's sad.<br /><br />It was supposed to be chicken with a honey-cilantro glaze with oven roasted veggies. It turned out 3rd degree burned chicken with a honey-cilantro glaze with over cooked-wilted oven roasted veggies.<br /><br />What's sad is that this was the first time I've ever burned chicken. Also, this was my first attempt at cooking for Bf. What a disaster. Now he thinks I can't cook (which is true), and probably thinks that the pictures of previous meals I showed him weren't mine (not true). The chicken was so burnt that I don't think poor starving children in Ethiopia would eat it. It was so bad Bf offered to cook tonight.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-16729548184466904792008-06-21T13:34:00.001-07:002008-06-21T13:48:17.035-07:00The Countdown BeginsMan. You'd think that after what my Bf said about me in my last post, he'd tread cautiously. <br /><br />Wrong.<br /><br />Since I've entered her life, Jessie's been in heaven. Although she's not allowed, Jessie snoozes on the couch. We know this b/c there's dog hair on the couch. Hummm...wonder how that got there. But when I'm around, she gets on the couch. Even though Bf doesn't allow it. I do, because its easier to pet her when we're both on the couch versus me on the couch and her laying down. It puts a crick in my neck.<br /><br />The bed is also off limits. She gets away with it every once in a while with me, but Bf's not fond of it. Something about how she needs boundaries, and they're all disappearing now that I've arrived. Whatever-I tend to tune him out after that. <br /><br />Oh hell, ever since I started spending the night, Jessie's been upstairs in our room. Bf used to leave her downstairs and put the kiddy gate at the foot of the stairs so she couldn't get up. Hence why she would sleep on the couch and then get off when she heard him coming down. But now he's moved her cushion and blanket into his bedroom and she sleeps there everynight. <em>Even nights I'm not there.</em> See how I'm slowly but surely changing him? HAHA!!<br /><br />She's gone to the bathroom inside the house, and Bf gets really mad. She's trained to not do that, but you know...shit happens. Literally. We're really good at letting her out before we head upstairs, but the other night we forgot. Oops. So she did her thing right outside his closet door.<br /><br />Bf woke up because Jessie was acting crazy, saw what she did, and had to clean it up ASAP. Then he took her downstairs, put her in her crate, and started stuying in the kitchen, but supposedly Jessie was whining so loudly that Bf was afraid it would wake up, so he let her out. <br /><br />I slept through it all. I slept through her acting crazy, through Bf turning on the closet light and cleaning up her mess, through her whining downstairs. But that's not the point.<br /><br />I mentioned how I was surprised that I slept through everything. I'm not a light sleeper, but usually noise for a substantial amount of time will wake me up. And what did my loving and caring Bf say?<br /><br />"Yeah, you were totally out. And there was some weird noises. I wasn't sure if it was you or Jessie farting."<br /><br />Anybody see D-Day coming?legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-25411754856727408242008-06-19T11:33:00.000-07:002008-06-21T13:33:17.131-07:00Foot in MouthThe reason I'm attaining a higher education is because I don't have model looks to rely on. That being said, I'm not skinny. Well, let me clarify- I'm not skinny compared to the average American, but I am skinny compared to a sumo wrestler. You get my drift.<br /><br />I have a gym membership that I think about going more often than I actually go. My stomach isn't flat and hard, and my ass isn't tight and bouncy. When its all tallied up though, I'm not too too shabby. <br /><br />I like screwing around with Jessie and try to dodge her. Usually this comes in the form of her chasing me around Bf's house. It totally gets her riled up and for the next hour she's literally stuck by my side. Last night she was chasing me around, and when I stopped, she jumped on me. She's trained to not jump on people, but when she gets excited, she forgets everything. When she jumped on me, her right paw lifted up my shirt, and she scratched me from the bottom of the boob diagonally across my stomach.<br /><br />Ouch.<br /><br />Later I lifted up my shirt to show Bf what his dog did to me. <br />"Look at this!!!"<br /><br />His response? "Cardio will take care of that."<br /><br />I think the look of utter shock on my face hit him hard and he realized I was referring to the scratch mark, and not my stomach flab.<br /><br />Welcome to relationships.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-58085173121506533582008-06-18T06:43:00.001-07:002008-06-18T06:58:35.896-07:00Maytag ManThis is the first time in years that I've lived by myself. I would rather suffer through 3 root canals and a 10 ingrown toenails than live by myself. Needless to say, I don't do it when I don't have to. But...I am living by myself now. Which means I have to buy everything myself from scratch. I just bought a sofa last weekend, and will be getting a dinette set this weekend.<br /><br />My fridge should be stocked, since no one will stock it if I don't. However, currently an old bag of grapes and a Brita filter reside there. Nothing else. I would grocery shop, but I am lucky enough to find a guy who is willing to house me, feed me, and let me play with his dog. I really am never home.<br /><br />However, before all this, I had the lofty goals of cooking myself. I bought a brand new set of pots and pans, and went to Costco and bought enough Cascade to clean a few rounds of cruise ship dishes. After the dishwasher was loaded, I turned it on, and nothing happened. Now since there's only a dial on the dishwasher, its not like I had much to fiddle around with. So I popped the door open, and all the dishwashing liquid had already fallen out. Fantastic. So I unload everything, head out to the leasing center, and fill out a maintenance form. Simply put: dishwasher does not turn on.<br /><br />Went and ran errands. <br /><br />Came back, and the maintenance form left on my kitchen read: need to flip dishwasher switch.<br /><br />Huh?<br /><br />Since when did dishwashers have a switch that needed flipping? See? This is what happens when I live with someone else. All this stuff is already done and spoken for. No worries. Re-load dishwasher, made sure switch is flipped, put in more dishwashing liquid, and off it goes!<br /><br />Three days later I find myself in my apartment for more than half an hour, and decide to unload the dishwasher, as well as do a load of laundry and break down boxes (this is about as domestic as I am going to get). Opened the door, and shit-the bottom of the dishwasher is filled to the brim with water. WTF. Half an inch more, and it would have spilled out onto the kitchen floor.<br />After I unload the goodies, I head out to the leasing center, and fill out another maintenance form. Simply put: dishwasher flooded.<br /><br />So now the problem is that I have to run the sink disposal at some point to make sure there's no excess water in the washer. Huh? I am baffled. Do I run it before I run the dishwasher? While the dishes are being washed? Afterwards? I have no clue. Maintenance claimed it had to do with the sink being backed up, which will backup the dishwasher. Which I find scary because hello, I havne't done anything to back up the sink. I haven't cooked or eaten anything because I don't have clean pots or pans (duh), or clean silverware, and don't even own a set of plates yet. Maybe the person before me was grinding body parts in the sink...legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-48799526510266954012008-06-10T16:21:00.000-07:002008-06-10T17:43:56.355-07:00The Nanny<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SE8fpsJj0eI/AAAAAAAAAP8/ezsFDbjEThw/s1600-h/IMG00104.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SE8fpsJj0eI/AAAAAAAAAP8/ezsFDbjEThw/s200/IMG00104.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210418094977307106" /></a><br />My family works. There's no way around it-no ifs, ands, or buts. As a result, my brother and I have been brought up with a strong work ethic (him more than me) and a need to pull in a paycheck.<br /><br />Now that I am a full time student, the money goes out but a paycheck never comes in. Trust me when I say it sucks. I am attending "math camp" for the months of June and July. I suck at math, and don't want to be in the "sink" position when the fall quarter begins. Needless to say, the first few days are slow, and its mainly administrative stuff. So, to preoccupy my mind from a)not having a car b)not having money and c) slowly but surely going insane, I hang out at bf's pad. He's not there (thankfully fully employed), but its alright. I keep Jessie company. Ok, well, Jessie keeps me company.<br /><br />But in entertaining her, I've realized how much I feel like a nanny/stay-at-home mom. I even told BF this, which got a funny look, but...eventually, a laugh (I am a riot). I started off the day washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen. The kitchen layout is such that there is a vent right under the sink where my feet are planted. Its cold. Sadly, the air conditioning unit just downright sucks, and while my feet are growing icicles, the rest of the house is plain hot. A side note-its broke 100 degrees the past few days, which is unheard of in this part of the country at this time of the year. Usually, these temperatures hit around July-August. Not early June.<br /><br />Anyway, so while I'm loading up the dishwasher, I decide to go out and get kitchen rugs. One for the sink, and one to put in front of the stove. So I get my things ready, load Jessie up in the car, and off we go. Holy shit it is hot as all hell. I feel like I'm in an inferno surrounded by heat and...well...trees. Jessie's my copilot (although she sheds more in shotgun than gives worthwile directions), and I hate to leave her in the car for an extended period of time, so I haul ass in Target, and then out of Target, and we're back home.<br /><br />Jessie's a 70 lbs. labrador retriever with a huge personality and a propensity to lick. Everything. She thinks she's a lap dog, and one of her favorite pasttimes, I've noticed, is getting right up in my grill and <em>panting</em>. Even though she's adorable, her breathe stinks. Its hot, and smells of dog food. Constantly. I shouldn't be complaining about her panting. All hell breaks loose when she starts licking, because her bad breathe clings to my face, neck, arms, and legs. <br /><br />The only solution I could come up with is to take her to Petsmart and have them brush her teeth. Well if I do that, I might as well take her in to get a bath. So off we go to Petsmart. I drop her off, and have two hours to run all my errands. After I pick her up, we cruise around the neighborhood. She likes it when I roll the window down so she can stick her head out the window. We've done it before, but because of cars behind us, we end up going roughly 50 mph, which is a tad bit too fast for her. She likes it when I cruise at school zone speed. After doing that for about 20 minutes, we head home, and it is dinner time. <br /><br />When did taking care of a <em>dog</em> become a full time job?legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-53474223964460211412008-06-09T10:11:00.000-07:002008-06-21T13:33:47.042-07:00A Whole New WorldAs I slowly settle into my new life, I've noticed a few things. The most prevalent is that I am way too high strung. This is probably a product of living in a huge cities my whole life. Out here in BFE, the pace is much slower. I'm talking much slower like watching paint dry. Hopefully this will help me slow down, and take time and smell the roses. <br /><br />Here's another thing: why do people complain about rush hour here? Let me tell you-rush hour is anything 20mph and under (basically, school zone). Anyone in their right mind would not consider 45 mph 'rush hour.' Please. If that's the worst it gets out here, I'm never leaving.<br /><br />I love trees. But not when it causes me to get lost. And boy do I get lost. A lot. But its not my fault- in LA, I got by because of major landmarks, buildings, and signage. Here's there's absolutely nothing but trees. I can't tell the damn difference between one one-way road and another. Its all the same-they're all windy and lined with trees. Half the time I feel like I'm driving from one end of BFE to another. I don't know how other people do it, but its near impossible for me. The bright side is...wait...there is no bright side. I mentioned to someone that there are so many dense pockets of trees that it would be easy for a killer to hide a body. Somehow I thought it was very feasible, but I received a strange look. Hummm...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SE6daLWe2TI/AAAAAAAAAP0/V6w5Qd8dBeQ/s1600-h/Jessie.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SE6daLWe2TI/AAAAAAAAAP0/V6w5Qd8dBeQ/s200/Jessie.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210274891963488562" /></a> This is Jessie. Isn't she a cutie pie? This is one of the few calm moments she's had, although she's half sitting on my legs. She's my friend's dog, but I'm trying to take over. Slowly but surely...<br />I've spent a lot of time lately with her, and have the battle wounds to show for it. Two bruises on my right knee, a bruise on my middle finger of my right hand, and scratches on both my arms. She has totally manhandled me.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-90077454569319908232008-05-09T07:26:00.000-07:002008-05-09T07:47:33.452-07:00Part DeuxHere are the remaining pics from my celebrity-house-stalking and Catalina Island weekend.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRhhVmAphI/AAAAAAAAAPE/r7PztYWYc1U/s1600-h/hilary+duff.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRhhVmAphI/AAAAAAAAAPE/r7PztYWYc1U/s200/hilary+duff.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198387095252542994" /></a> This is Hilary Duff's home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRiMFmApiI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4dA7qLQXh9I/s1600-h/jennifer+aniston.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRiMFmApiI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4dA7qLQXh9I/s200/jennifer+aniston.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198387829691950626" /></a> Jennifer Aniston's home. I don't particularly care for the style of the roof or the green color. I think it is UGLY. But hey, I can only say so much since I can't afford 1/4th of the ugliness.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRi21mApkI/AAAAAAAAAPc/SO-VSuIqLyA/s1600-h/tom+anderson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRi21mApkI/AAAAAAAAAPc/SO-VSuIqLyA/s200/tom+anderson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198388564131358274" /></a> Tom Anderson's new home. He's the millionaire founder of MySpace. You know..he's everyone's friend. Almost like Elmo...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRjJlmAplI/AAAAAAAAAPk/GhIyOlX2PM4/s1600-h/fresh+prince.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRjJlmAplI/AAAAAAAAAPk/GhIyOlX2PM4/s200/fresh+prince.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198388886253905490" /></a> Does this home look familiar? No? What-did you not grow up watching tv? This is the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air home!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRjsFmApmI/AAAAAAAAAPs/pAAxbLGpasg/s1600-h/pedalboat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SCRjsFmApmI/AAAAAAAAAPs/pAAxbLGpasg/s200/pedalboat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198389478959392354" /></a> I'm on the pedalboat here. And I know you can't see the pedalboat, but believe me, J-Unit and I were on it. And you see how close to the water I am? I'm heavy. I'm quite amazed the boat didn't sink.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-19373071516242102202008-05-04T21:26:00.001-07:002008-05-04T22:19:56.099-07:00Los AngelesJ-Unit visited last weekend. I wanted to go on the movie star's home tour. I understand that the general consensus is that stuff like this is cheesy. Well, I can't really refute that. But...instead of you having to fork over $32 to go on the tour, I'm going to post some of the pics from the tour. The ones I don't put up on here are simply the result of us not having the intellectual capacity or foresight to write down the names of all the celebrity homes we snapped pics of.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6NUyuaYFI/AAAAAAAAAOE/qPWaNtkmqgY/s1600-h/Reese+Witherspoon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6NUyuaYFI/AAAAAAAAAOE/qPWaNtkmqgY/s200/Reese+Witherspoon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196746408385470546" /></a> Reese Witherspoon's house (although I am Asian, and like to take pictures, I am not good at it. This is not one of those instances where practice makes perfect. In my defense, however, the bus was moving...)<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6N6iuaYGI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pseFfJTym4I/s1600-h/paris+hilton.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6N6iuaYGI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pseFfJTym4I/s200/paris+hilton.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747056925532258" /></a> Paris Hilton's house <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6OUSuaYHI/AAAAAAAAAOU/cs6RRmH1pDU/s1600-h/Dr.+Phil.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6OUSuaYHI/AAAAAAAAAOU/cs6RRmH1pDU/s200/Dr.+Phil.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196747499307163762" /></a> Dr. Phil's house. Isn't this house gorgeous? Dr. Phil owns this house. Here's what he did with his career (follow these steps and maybe one day you too will own a nice ass mansion)<br />1) Have disciplinary sanctions imposed on you for unethical and inappropriate behavior by the Board of Examiners of Psychologists.<br />2) Fail to complete conditions imposed by said Board, and not have a license to practice psychology.<br />3) Enter the weight-loss business with the "Shape Up" brand that does not stimulate weight loss.<br />4) Pull said weight loss products off the market so the FTC does not further investigate in your shananigans.<br />5) Engage in the "Britney Spears intervention"<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6QkSuaYII/AAAAAAAAAOc/_qyLIpVP-UI/s1600-h/Simon+Cowell.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6QkSuaYII/AAAAAAAAAOc/_qyLIpVP-UI/s200/Simon+Cowell.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196749973208326274" /></a> Simon Cowell's mansion in progress.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6RciuaYJI/AAAAAAAAAOk/PfHGYXeC23M/s1600-h/Jennifer+in+town+April+2008+051.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6RciuaYJI/AAAAAAAAAOk/PfHGYXeC23M/s200/Jennifer+in+town+April+2008+051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196750939575967890" /></a> We also went to Catalina since I've never been. The island is absolutely gorgeous. Look at all the yachts. J-Unit is going to own one one day. We decided that she would work on getting a yacht and I'd work on getting mansion. Ask me in 10 years how far I've progressed on this dream--it'll be amazing feat if I can keep the same address for more than a year...<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6SfSuaYKI/AAAAAAAAAOs/wV8StZOOm78/s1600-h/Jennifer+in+town+April+2008+056.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6SfSuaYKI/AAAAAAAAAOs/wV8StZOOm78/s200/Jennifer+in+town+April+2008+056.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196752086332235938" /></a> We took a tour of the Casino. Back then a casino was a social gathering place. Imagine my initial disappointment when I realized there would be no blackjack, slots, or craps. Nonetheless, the Casino is an awesome place.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6TzSuaYLI/AAAAAAAAAO0/NpXTj3zLrdA/s1600-h/theater.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6TzSuaYLI/AAAAAAAAAO0/NpXTj3zLrdA/s200/theater.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196753529441247410" /></a> This is the theater. There's a ton of amazing facts about the theater. Sadly, I don't remember any of them. Oh-the gold stars on the ceiling are actually real gold-not gold colored paint. Also, this is the only place in the world with its original organ (bottom right). Did that make sense? Probably not. Moving on...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6U7iuaYMI/AAAAAAAAAO8/c8Mr-vwmrDk/s1600-h/Jennifer+in+town+April+2008+036.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/SB6U7iuaYMI/AAAAAAAAAO8/c8Mr-vwmrDk/s200/Jennifer+in+town+April+2008+036.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196754770686795970" /></a> This is one of the walls of the theaters. Although it is incredibly beautiful, sitting in the theater, I felt like I was in hell it was so red. Instead of frightening me, though, I just fell asleep in the middle of the presentation. <br /><br />I have a bunch more pictures (I am, afterall, Asian), but I am tired and no longer want to upload pics, so they'll have to come out at a later date. I do, however, want to address something that happened last night that absolutely pissed me off and reminded me how asinine and uncaring some people can be.<br /><br />I went to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall last night (it was hilarious and I highly recommend it-there are even schlong shots for those interested...) and sat in the row above the handicapped section. The handicap section is not really a section, per say, but one seat marked handicap, and four seats next to it. Those four seats were taken. Before the movie starts, a girl in crutches approaches with her friend and an usher. The usher asks the guy (I will call him Douche Bag, or DB, for short) to move so the girl and her friend can sit there. DB and his friends get up, but don't want to move. Their reason? Only that one particular seat was marked handicap, the other four weren't, so they shouldn't have to move. Oh fabulous. Are you shitting me?<br /><br />I realize that there probably weren't four empty seats available together anywhere else in the theater, but I don't understand why DB was such a DB and the four of them couldn't split up into twos, and just have two people move. So the girl in crutches sat there and her friend had to sit somewhere else. What an absolute ass. We would have moved, but we were five and six seats into our row, and there was no way she would have made it to our seats with crutches. So while I'm not one to wish ill on others, I sincerely hope DB breaks his leg, pulls a tendon, gets blessed with five ingrown toenails simulanteously-anything to put him in crutches, and then waltz into a situation where others don't give a damn about his condition.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-91249302481538716772008-04-22T14:00:00.000-07:002008-04-22T14:26:43.269-07:00There's a Disease With My Name on ItAs part of the process of getting myself ready for b school, I have to show proof of immunization. I have no clue how to read the immunization form. There's numbers and subscripts all over the chart that I can't decipher. The bad thing is that the numbers are 0, 1, 2, and 3. Really, it doesn't go higher than that. Looking at my past immunization history (which is disjointed and a bit on the chaotic side, with part of it in Chinese), it seems that some doctor or clinic missed something along the way.<br /><br />The first shot I needed was TD. Or DT. Whatever. Its the tetanus-diphtheria shot. No biggie since it only runs for 10 years and the last shot I got was back in 1992. I'm ok with that. But...I needed 2 measles, 2 mumps, and 1 rubella shot, or two MMRs-which is the wicked trifecta. Somehow, I am missing one mumps shot. I have no idea how that one happened, since the shots are usually given together. According to the clinic, most people get their first MMR shot after their first birthday, and then another one basically whenever. I have the 'whenever' one back in 1992, but I don't have the one after my first birthday. How my undergraduate school (UT) and my law school (Santa Clara) accepted me without one of the shots is beyond me. Oh wait. Measles, mumps, and rubella aren't all that prevalent in the United States.<br /><br />Will someone please tell my b school that? The MMR shot alone costs $125. The tetanus shot $50. And then an administrative fee of $25 (folding one sheet of paper in half and writing my name on it with the two shots I received). All together? $200 bucks. The MMR vaccine is what they call a 'live' vaccine. Which means that a few days after my shot I should expect to be a bit sick. 200 fucking dollars. And I could probably go to some third world country and get a dose of MMR just by breathing the air.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-38284968292319270542008-04-15T10:40:00.000-07:002008-04-15T10:44:27.411-07:00My StoryWork knows I will bid them farewell in a month or so. They've known from the get go that I applied to b school. The other day I got a request from someone in marketing for my 'bio' to put on an RFP (request for production). There's a million things in the world I would rather do (stab my eyes with an ice pick) than write about myself. So I emailed my coworker back and told her that I'm leaving in a few weeks, so I'd rather not do one.<br /><br />She emailed me back saying that the RFP is for April 2008, so I kinda can't get out of writing one.<br /><br />Fabulous. However, I did see the bios of other coworkers. The difference is that I have not been working for a long enough time. Everyone else has put in 5 years here, 10 years there, blah blah blah. Me? I've been in compliance for under 3 years.<br /><br />Here's what I got so far:<br /><br />"Legalmisfit is the Compliance Associate for XYZ and likes meat on a stick."legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-75670272792041808272008-04-07T07:29:00.000-07:002008-04-08T11:27:17.530-07:00Oh What an Experience!This past weekend was Experience Weekend at UNC. Basically its a time to check out the school, the potential classmates, the professors and much more. Its also a time for the school to woo any students on the fence about attending.<br /><br />Although the weather was utter crap and my brain was functioning at 8%, I had a blast and fell in love with UNC. Its a fantastic institution, and my classmates are fun, smart, and overall great people. I can see myself spending the next two years here and loving it. <br /><br />Even watching UNC get clobbered in the Final Four was fun. It was brutal, and I have never heard the crowd go so crazy when UNC was behind by 12 points, but hey, it was fun. <br /><br />My flight out to RDU stopped in Phoenix. I was hungry enough (and smart enough) to get off the plane and hunt for food (the Phoenix to RDU route was 5 hours). I wasn't smart enough to put away my ID and...duh--there it goes. I spazzed for about a good hour until I realized that because I never clean out my wallet, I had my expired driver's license. Score!!!<br /><br />My hotel was just a hotel. Ok-it wasn't anything fabulous, but for the price, it was good. I went downstairs to the lobby and reported that I had no hair dryer in my room. And yes, I looked in the bathroom, the closet area, and all dresser drawers. Couldn't find it. Later that night, I realized it was one of those that are built into the bathroom wall. 1.5 feet from where I applied make up. Maybe my brain was actually functioning at 3.5% instead of 8.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/R_oywYjvygI/AAAAAAAAAN4/E9ljGd9CIm8/s1600-h/Picture.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Qz76Z-yuIZw/R_oywYjvygI/AAAAAAAAAN4/E9ljGd9CIm8/s200/Picture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186513727678040578" /></a>legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5037400895170485150.post-17813540594198730052008-04-03T07:37:00.000-07:002008-04-03T07:45:17.759-07:00A Different Kind of ProsperousThere are plenty of people out there that think I'm going to be rich. One day. I don't agree or disagree. I will say that I'm nearly 30, own a 5 year old car, own a ton of stuffed animals. What I don't own is a home. Maybe I'm on the road less traveled to my millions...<br /><br />Sometimes fortune cookies give great fortunes (You are well liked by many people). Sometimes I get command cookies (Make your bed every morning). And other times, they're just shit fortunes all the way around. Two days ago my fortune read, "Your wealth will be great health."<br /><br />Like I said, sometimes its just shit fortunes all the way around. I have to admit, I'd rather be 'wealthy' with evidence of a fatty bank account (or offshore Swiss bank account), and not by simply...still being alive. I have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and probably a whole host of other bad things (I'm too lazy to sit there and read every item on the list at the doc's office so in one fell swoop its all 'N/A'). These are my health problems and I am ok with it. Part of it is my diet. Part of it is genes, but I accept that. What I can't accept is being broke the rest of my life. <br /><br />Needless to say I didn't eat the fortune cookie. That's the only way I know to reject it.legalmisfithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00329392451461937192noreply@blogger.com0