LSATasaurus

I am officially freaking out. O F F I C I A L L Y. Not like my everyday, normal operating mode freak out but totally, completely, maybe actually unhinged freaking out. I don’t think there’s a word for it…and even if there was, I wouldn’t know it because my brain is fried.


What the shit is a contrapositive? I don’t like this “and” means “or” but sometimes “neither.” I took a LSAT Vocab Quiz and got 4 out of 15 right. WTF?? My vocabulary is easily three times the size of your average persons. The first app I downloaded on my iPhone was a thesaurus! I’m calling bullshit.

So I don’t need any special knowledge to take the LSAT? Just a college-level vocabulary? Well, I thought I had all that but I can’t get more than 50% of the Logical Reasoning questions right….11 to 13 correct every time. Bitch, I want 18 to 20 each time.
No, I’m not being dramatic. Eff what you say. Yeah, 168 would be an amazing score…if I actually got it on test day…which I won’t because I’m not getting 170’s consistently on the prep tests. So now I’m counting on my questionable robust vocabulary to carry me through some conditional reasoning failures.

Yeah, I know I’m smart. Thank you. I appreciate the compliment but we’re not talking about whether or not I’m smarter than a 5th grader but whether or not I can get into a T1 law school and take over the world. Pointing out that I’m smart isn’t helpful, though I will try to remember you when I’m the overlord.

I don’t have a back up plan. The only other thing I ever wanted to be was a waitress and I was 5 when I said that so I can’t be possibly be expected to use that as a safety net (albeit realistic if needed). Plus my mom would be so disappointed. She practically had to pull the car over and speechify some feminism into me so I wouldn’t think a waitress was all a girl could ever hope to be. I can’t disappoint my mom’s empowerment speech! If so, I’ll have to concede to Lillian’s dream of being a “weather girl” or worse, “dancer.” Calm down Footloose, no little girl of mine is going to be a dancer.

Le sigh…

"Poisonous by 06 02 11"

I think the whole practice of stamping “Use by” or “Best if Used Before” should be reworded. I need the timeline for when something will poison me to be more finite. Why can’t it say “Rancid by” or “Throw Away by” instead? There can’t seriously be such a variance in how well different people tolerate spoilage.


The suggestion to smell it does not help. I don’t really know what spoiled milk or rotten chicken smells like. Oh, I’ll know it when I do smell it will I? The doctors said the same thing to me when I had a blood clot and was worried about having an embolism, but honestly, that’s not one I’d like to test out just to “know it” when it happens.

Besides, how do you know that to be true? What if I have a terrible sense of smell? Smoking cigarettes degrades your sense of smell. Do smokers get food poisoning more often? Regardless, putting a “Poisonous By” date would save me from having to smell it at all. And probably save hundreds of smokers from vomiting due to food poisoning.

Which is really nice because chemotherapy will make them throw up lots later once they’ve gotten cancer.

I'd Like to Report an Instance of La Chupacabra

911, what’s the nature of your emergency?



There’s a chupacabra in my office!!


Ma’am?


A CHUPACABRA!! Oh my God! Oh my God!


Calm down ma’am…how do you know it’s a chupacabra?


Obviously because it looks like the legendary bloodsucking cryptid!! I was just in my office, minding my own business when this…this..THING comes out of no where stomping and hissing…and (gasp)…


Ma’am? Ma’am, stay with me please.


(Whispering) I think it heard me…no, no, no, no…shhhhhh…


Ma’am what is la chupacabra doing now?


It’s…umm, it’s sucking all the fun and decency out of my coworkers. Oh my God! And it has on leggings! What kind of unholy monster is this?!?!?! HELP!! HELP!!


(inaudible)


Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you still there? Ma’am? Just try to hang on, the priests are on their way.

An Open Letter to the Cube-Driving Moron

Dear Sir,

I am not responsible for your poor decision-making. I am sorry that you bought a Cube; that you thought it would be zippy in traffic; that it maybe made you look cool; or that it was an unfortunate car you inherited from your eccentric aunt upon her suicide Koolaid pact with that cult.

I am sincerely sorry for whatever circumstances preceded us meeting this morning. But...

Dude, you drive a fucking Cube. That's not a car; that's a shape. And there is nothing - nothing on God's green Earth and all that is holy - that makes a fucking Cube zippy, cool or a wise purchase. IT'S A SQUARE!

Squares aren't aerodynamic. Did you think a 6-sided square would be any more so? NO SIR! Less so! It's a geometric shape and nothing about shapes = speed.

You are essentially riding around in a weensy, shiny dumpster with windows and wheels. That thing is about as zippy as an aluminum shed from Home Depot and you sir...you are trying to weave in and out of traffic with the speed of a SHED!!!

So don't get mad at me when your stupid fucking shape car doesn't shoot up the hill like some Nissan miracle rocket. Or when I get so irritated with waiting for your car to finally wind all the way up before take off that I pass you. And it was TOTALLY unnecessary to go all shape-stalker on me in traffic afterwards. Get over it dude, you drive a slow box.

Fuck you and the Cube you rode in on.

Lunesta & Mr. Hyde

In case you don't know this...Lunesta makes you fucknuts. Seriously. It says it right there on the label "Warning: May Cause Fucknuts" and then has a little picture of crazy, swirly eyes right next to it.

My best advice - don't take it. My second best advice - take it only whilst in the bed with the lights off. Do not get out of the bed for any reason! Not even a trip to the bathroom. You get up to pee and the next morning your scrolling through some lewd and insidious text messages you sent to some unsuspecting friend (if you're lucky) or coworker (if you're unlucky).

I started taking Lunesta when I had the blood clot and was terrified I was going to die in my sleep. That's how strong this shit is - it can override your survival instincts. The Animal Kingdom has nothing on Glaxo Smith Kline.

Dude, you really sent me a text message last night about how you were the king of the jungle.

Funny...I have no memory of that at all...

So I tried to stop taking it but then my dad passed away and I still had that damn blood clot. Lunesta became a necessary evil. And like all necessary evils...it  only gets eviler.

                                             Lettuce is an asshole.
Why?
                                          Because its so unnecessary
                                         for sandwiches.
                 May 3, 2011 9:38 PM
IDK dude...I kinda l
ike lettuce.
                                        That's because you're a whore.
What??
                                       You know what I mean!
Noooo, where is
this coming from?
                   May 3, 2011 10:01 PM
                                   Your blatant, rampant whoreness.
                                  OBVIOUSLY
                   May 3, 2011 10:13 PM
Go to bed dude
                 May 4, 2011 5:36 AM
                                I'm sorry about last night...

Only people with iPhones will appreciate the format of that scenario.

The point is that as long as I have to keep taking Lunesta, I will always be sorry about last night. Let's just make that a blanketing statement for every tomorrow morning.

What Does Mercury Poisoning Sound Like?

Last night I started freaking out about taking the LSAT. It's really close now so I can feel the panic creeping up on me. It's like someone's standing right behind me, ready to make me jump out of my skin. So logically, I've now started planning every out clause I can think of in order to not have to take the test. I don't want to be a lawyer anymore.

In fact, I just decided that I would like to be a flower. Quick, run out and buy a pot!

(Know what's funny about merury poisoning? Nothing assholes, it's a horrible illness but the rest of this post is going to sound like I'm suffering from it. And even though you may not understand, it gets enormously entertaining toward the end.)

What's worse than my own ridiculousness is that everyone around me has also decided that now's the time to start acting like the biggest bunch of bullshits on Earth. I don't need any incite-ment. Calm the hell down people. There will be no bullshit butterfly affecting me. Hush your faces and sit perfectly still until June 6th.

Peace be with me. And also with me.

Everyday around here is obviously opposite day because the people who calm me down the most are the ones I'm lambasting and the ones who need the most lambasting are on some sort of perma-BYE week with me. It's like punching the waterboy for the quarterback's blunder. That's not good football. Nor is it an analogy that makes any sense.

I mean, I know that just by nature of me being me that crazy is attracted like bugs to the zapper but typically crazy doesn't get past the blue light to the inner circle. Typically it's about 5 years hard time before we're really good friends. All of these unreasonable expectations I put on you people!

Am I sorry? No. Because the ONE PERSON who got friendship fast-tracked actually asked to return to the starting line. That's not how the game of life works bro, so get off my board before I sink your battleship and go all community chest on your ass.

If we were playing Clue no one would be able to guess who done it because you just dressed up and impersonated Colonel Mustard with a candle stick in the study. I bet you've never even been to the study! You're probably not even a Colonel either! Oh my God it is charades! You better start yelling "Polo" when I say "Marco" or this game is over. In fact, I'm already calling shennanigans on you.

Ain't no do-overs either. What you need to do is go the next aisle over before I choke you with some of these small, ingestable parts. That's right baby, pre-school aisle. Tell Melissa & Doug I said what's up.

Snoop Dogg's Mom PSAs Me

I haven't seen BSC in days and it is so depressing. I've had my BSC CD cued up and everything but alas...basically, I've just  been jamming out to Lil' Wayne on my commute to work which really just makes me drive too fast.

This morning I'm at the light by Phipps with my windows cracked a little bit since it's kinda cool this morning when the woman in the white Envoy to my right honks at me. So I turn off Wheezy and roll my window down another inch (because obviously that makes her easier to hear. Sound is measured in inches, not decibels).

Let me paint a picture of this woman for you - she's wearing a blue velour sweatshirt, has 2 inch lime green finger nails and is smoking a Black & Mild at 7:30 in the morning. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I met Snoop Dogg's mom this morning!

Not really...

But THIS woman, the one driving the white Envoy with giant chrome wheels, wearing a blue velour sweatshirt, 2 inch lime green fingernails, smoking a black and mild opens her one gold-toothed mouth to me and says...

"He ain't no damn good. He make colored girls from the southside think they be famous one day."

SWEAR TO GOD! I have absolutely zero response to that! None. She shut my mouth when she said "colored." And I thought she was just going to ask for directions...

Of course Lil' Wayne ain't no damn good. He's Lil' Wayne, not Lil' Role Model. You wouldn't put him in charge of a mentor program at a Boys & Girls Club. But I guess at least we should be thankful that his nefarious influences only affect colored girls from the southside...What the shit kind of statement is that??

Not to mention, I've listened to every song on every album and probably every song he's been featured in since before Cash Money were millionaires and I do not remember promoting the possibility of fame of any hue of girl from any geographic location. Obviously this woman is confused. She should be yelling at Twista or that guy who wrote "Lights, Camera, Action." I don't remember his name but he later tried to poke his own eye out which is definitely gangster, albeit overboard. But really, I don't care how hardcore you are, you don't run up on the guy who gouged his own eye out.

Ok, so Lil' Wayne ain't no damn good. Her statement make no damn sense. And who the hell cares if I listen to it because I roll up my windows and turn down the rap music whenever I'm driving on the southside - obviously in an effort to keep Lil' Wayne's false fame message from getting out.

Chinese Knock Offs

I love the red kitten Ray Bans but I'm not responsible enough to pay more than $60 for some sunglasses, let alone $230, so I can't buy them. Last year, my boss went to China and I was SO PISSED that he didn't buy me any Chinese knock-off Ray Bans. I mean really! When will I ever know another person going to CHINA?

Turns out, my friend Adria went to China only a month later. Sadly, she couldn't find the Chinese knock-off Ray Bans. Is it ironic that Chinese knock-offs are hard to find in actual China? Perhaps - at the very least it's knock-off irony.

Here's where it gets a little abstract. Try to follow along...

I love the red kitten Ray Bans, even the Chinese knock-off ones. I love them just as much as the real thing. It doesn't matter the fine print, just that they're mine and I love them. How can I love a fake? Please, have you seen them!

So, in review, does it matter that the red kitten Ray Bans are Chinese knock-off and not exactly what their appearance purports them to be? No, I love them regardless.

The problem with loving something regardless is the regardless part. I have to love these faux Ray Bans even if they're finished with toxic lead paint. Even if their UV protection is substandard or non-existent. I know what I'm getting myself into so I can't exactly be mad when I'm left with permanent sunspots.

Having a Chinese knock-off is making a choice to love what is a fake assumption of the real thing. But in the end...well, it just feels cheap.

Tiffanie and I Walk Into a Bar...

The bar staff is dressed like 1920's mobsters. In hindsight it's not quite as cool as I thought it was at the time but there's a lot about last night that, upon reflection, was not quite as cool now as I thought then. Except...

LPR – Ca’De Medici lambrusco rosso, Dolin blanc vermouth, balsamic syrup, strawberry – 10



This shit is the jam! I don't drink liquor for a whole lotta reasons but despite myself I ordered this cocktail. I would in fact marry it I loved it so much. Nevermind it took the bartender 10 minutes to hand-craft it, it was fantastical. It has a lewd nickname which - like so many other details from last night - escape me now.

Halfway through my first and Tiffanie is trying to get to second base with me. Yeah dude, you should totally get one too. Halfway through her first glass and she's getting handsy with the wait staff.

The bartender with a titsANDass tattoo tells us we probably should just have the one. I'm sorry but you sir have a visual illusion tattoo of both T and A...you should not be rendering advice...who are you...Dr. Phil?

I met him at a golf course. He's a dirty bird.

What the shit is Tiffanie talking about? Out comes our dinner with what the waiter deemed "a very sexy egg." Strangely enough it was a very sexy egg. Keep it away from Tiffanie...she's looking for some sexy.

I tell a terribly inappropriate story to a person I just met. She knows T&Atender from the meat carving station like a year ago. He trained her. It's all very confusing...I think I will have another LPR...

BUT THEY RAN OUT OF BALSAMIC SYRUP! What, this is your second night being open! How can you already be out of the syrup??

Probably a good thing though...I'm a total fan...

Do Bananas Excrete Poison?

It's not even 8 am and today has already been a...barrel of monkeys, to put it mildly. First Lillian wakes up extra early with, "Where my waffles woman?" Yeah right...try getting up with the ability to say "please" next time. Note to self: stop talking like Bernie Mac around the house.

Then my commute to work was awful. Chill out dude, there is no reason to be driving like that. Keep your Tokyo Drift bullshit to nighttime hours. And stop trying to pull it off in that certified, pre-owned Honda. FYI - your 5-point racing seatbelt looks hella stupid in the weekday commute to get to your office job. Do you find that it wrinkles your button down shirts? Ahhh, wrinkle-free...man those Dockers guys think of everything.

Then that damn mockingbird tried to attack me again on my way in the building. It's still outside bitch chirping up a storm. Mark my words, that bird's days are numbered. Don't pity the bird. That one is such an asshole.

And my banana was wet. How does this happen? I hate bananas but I can't just eat salt and peanut butter all day so I'm trying...but I will not eat a wet banana. Where did the wetness come from? Why is it only on the banana and not the rest of the stuff in my purse? Do bananas excrete poison? I should feed it to that bird...I hate bananas...and that bird.

Smooth, Personified

I bought these really cute pants at Banana Republic and because I want them to look fierce as possible, I left the pockets stitched closed. But that makes it massively inconvenient to carry a tampon to the bathroom. Good thing I have to wear a long-sleeved shirt every day...I'll just stick the tampon up my sleeve for incognito transport. I am so genius.

Except my period is a faker and turns out tampon not needed. Touche.

Come out the bathroom and who should I see at the elevators?? The devastatingly sexy Mr. Mann.

Think quick, play it cool...after all he's been avoiding me post-advice fisaco. So I give him a smile and quick two-finger wave because I'm so blithely gangster.

Gangsters make it rain money. I make it rain tampon. Like a fucking rocket it flies out of my sleeve and onto the floor. Good thing it wasn't my left sleeve or he could have lost an eye! He might still be hot with an eye patch but I don't want to be responsible for cyclopsing him.

He didn't see it though, he was turned away pushing the elevator button. Or he is just so charming as to not point out that feminine sanitary products spontaneously shot out of my sleeve.

BUT OF COURSE, this would be the time he decides to chit chat me. It was painfully short and painful, respectively, because the whole 4 seconds I am acutely aware there is a tampon on the floor somewhere behind me.

Growing Immune-Glories in Your Gene-Eden

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration and the Federal Trade Commission warned several companies to remove products from the market for making bogus claims about treating and preventing sexually transmitted diseases.

The Man is always cracking down on the little guy just trying to sell some fake STD meds. Seriously, how pissed would you be? Not that you were taking the bogus STD meds because you were already a special kind of stupid to even believe that but what if you were the person sleeping with said bogus STD med-taking idiot?

"Don't worry baby, I'm on Herpaflor. My DMSO is CLEAR!"

So not cool. I would very not-bogus murder you.

“There are no no NO consumer products and dietary supplements to treat STDs that are available over the counter,” emphasized Howard Sklamberg, director of FDA’s Office of Enforcement and Regulatory affairs, explaining that the only way to treat an STD is by using an FDA-approved prescription drug obtained from a licensed health care provider.

You know it's serious when the FDA uses all uppercase letters. NO OTC STD meds kiddos. Put down your Gene-Eden. That name by the way, made me laugh out loud. Take these pills and return your little garden's genes back into Eden.

What the fuck is wrong with people? Did you really think that bottle of AIDS-Away was going to work?

"Gee, too bad people in Africa don't have access to a CVS or Walgreens since the cure for their pandemic is right here on Aisle 6..."

If the STD doesn't kill you, Darwinism will.

The agencies issued joint letters to 12 companies warning that they are violating federal law by selling 30 products claiming to treat and even cure several STDs including herpes, HIV, AIDS, chlamydia and genital warts.

Yeah FDA, you get em! Send that letter asking for their voluntary stoppage of fakery. The makers of Herp-a-Way probably not terrified of some official letterhead.

My Pet Rock

Ok, so typically I don't write about immediate members of my family (busted that myth)...but quite frankly, my mom is a continuous source of funny material (al la her personal plan for homelessness) and this one was too good to pass up.

For those of you that don't know, my parents have spent the last year slowly moving one piece of their belongings at a time from Atlanta to Charleston. Now that the house in Atlanta has finally sold, it's time to say our final farewell to the Duluth homestead. Two weeks ago, I met up with my parents at their house to shed a tear over never returning to the house I grew up in again...

Sniff, sniff - I sure am going to miss this place. To think, I'll never be coming here again...

Well if you want you can come next weekend because we're having a garage sale.

Seriously? I just got all emo over your second-to-last weekend in the house??

Whatever, flash forward to last weekend, post-garage sale and sniff, sniff...

Oh we'll be in town all week. Want to have dinner on Tuesday?

WHEN EXACTLY ARE YOU PEOPLE ACTUALLY MOVING AWAY?! Don't get me wrong. I love them. I don't want them to move, albeit to most stellar Charleston...but seriously, now I'm just feeling silly about the whole farewell to my home place mentality...

We'll come over Tuesday for dinner and I can bring you your rock.

What?

The river rock from the front yard...(allow me to interject that there is not a river in the front yard)...I thought maybe you would want something sentimental from the house.

Again, there is no river so this particular rock's sentimentality is perplexing to me.

It's a rock from the river in North Carolina by the house we lived in when you were little.

You have a rock from a river from a house from when I was little?

No, it's from the river but not from when you were little. And it was by the house but we didn't live there. And I want you to have it.

Ok, cool. See you tonight.

Enie Menie Minie Mo

I hope whoever came up with enie-menie-minie-mo rots in hell for all eternity. I cannot take yet another round of it in Lillian's decision-making process.

If she was so concerned with which one her mother said was best, she would listen to my choice the first fucking time I said it! End of story. There would be no catching of tigers by their toes. That doesn't even make any damn sense! I'm hollering, not the tiger and your little behind is about to be grounded.

Oh course, interrupting her only means she has to start over. MOMMMMMMMY! You messed me up! Now I have to start ALL over. Dammit! Is it really so intricately complicated that you can't remember if your were at minie or mo?

And apparently it's gotten longer than when I was a child because there's a whole new part about spelling Y-E-S and N-O which, quite frankly, is a blatant waste of time. Quick Lillian, spell N-O C-A-R-T-O-O-N-S...how's that choice?

I tried to explain that the one you start on is the one you end with so if you want that choice you should just start there. And if you know which one you want before we go through this ridiculous charade, then JUST PICK THAT ONE ALREADY!!!!

No Mommy, I haaaave to do it this way to make sure it's perfect.

Great, so it's some sort of limerick-based OCD? Stellar.

Ok Maybe...Just Maybe....You Were Right

I don't like being wrong. Worse, I don't like it when someone else is right. Epically crappy, is when a whole group of people are right when I wasn't.

Eat this up assholes, I don't go around admitting I'm wrong much.

If the key to mastering the LSAT is to practice, practice, practice, then your suggestion to quit practicing so much seems counterintuitive. Maybe you need to take a 10 minute break Mr. Hostage Negotiator; they'll still be there when you get back. Don't worry about the nuclear reactor Dr. Physicist...clear your head; then come back to it.

Yeah, I really compared this test to those extreme situations. But only to further illustrate the point that you all were, in fact, right. The hostages will still be there; albeit, maybe not as in good of condition. And a worried nuclear physicist is just as terrible as no physicist at all, so he should clear his head. After all, apparently radiation can be up to 100,000,000 times "normal" levels and still be safe (at least according to nuclear officials monitoring Japan).

Side note - doesn't that make you think that the threshold for safe levels of radioactivity should be raised. I'm thinking twice the normal levels should be too much...but over a million and that's still safe?? Isn't 100,000,000 the normal level what will actually create a Godzilla monster in Japan?

Anyway, relish in the fact that you all were right in my need of a break. I am officially back on track for Tier 1 law schools!