Super Flake to the er rescue and the frump update!!

Right now, if I were a superheroine, I would be Super Flake. You see, I keep spacing important pieces of information to relay on to others. Like what? You would ask that, wouldn't you. It's more like I am easily distracted. Keep in mind I am billing very well at work, but am quite scattered. You wouldn't want me as your rescuer for I would forget, or worse, be in the middle of saving you, get distracted and go somewhere else, just leaving you there in the lurch. At least I look good today; in honor of the Chinese New Year (it's Sunday people), I am wearing a nice gold silk tunic with matching pants. My boss bows at me everytime I walk by. Some guy in the crack house across the street thinks it's great too. It appears I have left my frump behind...for the time being...hopefully that episode is the lone episode. Interestingly enough, after I posted the frump issue on this very blog, my manager told me that she had been meaning to tell me that I looked really nice that day. Hmmmm, it appears that I am the only fashionista at my office. Why am I surprised?

Feeling Frumpy

Hello folks. I realized as I was getting out of my car this morning that I look a bit frumpy. You know how when you see some terrible outfit some poor soul put on or people with mullets and you think, "do these people actually look in the mirror and think, 'damn, i look good'" (insert mullet fluff here). Well, I realized today that is probably what people think when they see me. I hear the inner monologue of those around me: "Did she actually try that skirt on in the store like it or was it a gift? Who puts a lavendar sweater with a pink flowered skirt? Poor girl probably didn't look in the mirror before she left work. I hope nobody ever says or thinks these things about me." And here I am thinking those things about myself. It just goes to prove: what goes around comes around. For the record, my boss told me I don't look bad and my receptionist likes the skirt, and I wasn't even prying for compliments. I guess some people like the frumpy look...the dude abides.

Law School?

Howdy. I am F-I-N-A-L-L-Y able to start my applications to Law Schools for this fall. Happy, that is what I am because I am finally moving forward again. I also feel like a total slacker, but better late than never. I am so excited at the prospect of returning to the school, using my mind again. I am also nervous because my LSAT score is not what I would like it to be...I want to do a dual degree program and I think I will get accepted to a JD program then start that process once I am in. Hmmm, getting accepted to a JD program, that is the hard part. I have to write a personal statement and have no clue what to write about. The most recent experience that dramatically impacted my life was when I was a victim advocate on-scene of a fatal car accident. Seems a bit morbid to me. Maybe admissions officers at the school I am applying to don't want to read about that, especially since their school was ravaged this hurricane season. Writing about my experience as a Page seems like it was eons ago - it has been 10 years! Hmmm, I must think about this...vacation to Hawaii with my beloved Zona seems inappropriate as well. Well, ho's gots to goes now, but any advice on what my personal statement could be on would be much appreciated.

Look to the right!

Hey all! I added links to 3 of my friend's blogs so check them out. If you want to see pics of Hawaii, go to Doraemon's Eternal Pocket and you can see some of what we experienced.

Grazie di esistire

Ok, so my spelling might be off a bit, but translated to English from Italian, it supposedly means "thank you for existing". This is the monthly Italian phrase the man of the month is trying to teach me. This is the new calandar I bought to hang over my desk and it is entitled "Buff Gondaliers" or something like that. Basically, I am trying to pass off a cheezy calandar of men who sometimes go shirtless as a calandar of the Venician canals...hmmm, nobody has noticed it so far. I'm not too worried about it.
I wanted to apologize for not updating my blog more while in Hawaii. There was so much to tell that it was overwhelming. The other part was to try to escape from the Mainland and not have my mind anywhere else. My apologies.
So now I am back in the Mainland in my apartment with my cat, who is mildly obsessed with me. We have finally figured out how to use the laptop and have her lounge on me. I am having mixed emotions right now. I have almost the entire day to myself and cannot figure out what I want to do. I am grateful to be alone, yet feeling totally disconnected from everything and thus, want to go out with people to feel connected. But I don't have the energy to connect with people I don't know very well and would not wish my current state on any of my friends or family. I am so lucky to have my own space and time that is totally mine. I want to go lay in the sun, but it is not quite warm enough and I am not a huge fan of hanging out in public city parks, alone, no less. Maybe I should have entitled this blog "restless".

The Fallacy Continues...

I almost feel bad - Zona and I are back at our hotel, fresh towels under our bums, supplied by a man who obviously thinks we are paying guests. But clean towels are nice...it's ok I tell myself; the guests who pay are not nearly as appreciative as we are. The pool beckons, but the weather today is sprinkling showers, followed by sunshine, followed by mini showers. We have checked out of the hostel and will be flying to Maui tonight and have an afternoon to kill. Our biggest and most taxing decision so far has been this: do we sit at the bar and drink or go poolside? Bar equals glass, poolside equals plastic...hmmm, what are a couple of beach babes in matching sarongs to do?
I am sure, my gentle readers, that you are wondering about last nights festivities. Well, Zona's dream of landing a Japanese man "straight off the boat" (her words exactly), did not come to fruition. I gave the oh so dreamy sushi chef my number and we'll see what happens. He has been dubbed "Mr. Sushi". Upon an enlightening discussion with Zona, I learned that Mr. Sushi would not be considered hot by Japanese standards, but by our standards, we agreed that we would allow, well nevermind. This is a PG-rated blog. Yes, ladies, he is smokin'. And Zona and I don't even have the same taste. Except for Mr. Sushi. Oh-na-ni!!! So we'll see if he calls. We have not told him of our lustful thoughts towards him; rather, just gave him a piece of paper with my number on it and to give me a call...after that, we went to the bar at our hotel, drank wicked strong Mai-tais, met some Austrailian girl who convinced us to go to some lame hotel club for the midnight toasting. After that, we left and strolled down the beach, carefully avoiding fireworks and dog crap. Our search for a greasy spoon diner or wholesome ramen was fruitless and after numerous propositions to hotel parties and the like, we ended up back at our hostel, talking with a couple Brizilians, a young 20-year old Japanese boy who was quite cute and a desparate Indian guy. Think Van Wilder people. That was fun while it lasted and after about an hour, we turned in for the night.
I am not sure about internet access in Maui, but I will do my best to give an update as frequently as possible. Click on the pic above to see it better. It is Zona and I at a roof-top bar on New Year's Eve. Thanks for the kiss, chica!