Served

one more big moment in life to check off the list, just as 2008 comes to a close: i had my first restraining order filed against me. it's actually an injunction against harassment, but close enough. aaron's ex-girlfriend alleges that i come into the store where she works for the sole purpose of staring her down. all precipitated by the fact that someone allegedly slashed her tire last week. i find this slightly amusing because staring does sound like something i would do. when i was in high school. or first grade. side note: does anyone remember saying, "you got a eye problem!?" ?

unfortunately, it's unfounded -- i'm all grown up now with at least SOME maturity and perspective and healthy fear of losing my law license and YEAH RIGHT i would leave my apartment in the middle of the -4 degree night to commit crimes when even cheap beer and wing night couldn't lure me from under the covers -- so really it's kind of annoying. because wandering aimlessly around in the quiet, temperature-controlled womb of the mall in search of great bargains is probably my #1 extra-curricular activity while the weather stinks and my husband is occupied. and because the comfiest bench in the mall is outside that place. and because it is the only place in flagstaff that sells flannel-lined jeans and i'm not sure i'll be able to survive much more of winter without stocking up and i was really hoping that they would eventually go on enough sale that i could afford a pair for every day of the week. *sigh*

most interesting was being approached by a police officer. as a public defender, i constantly gave my clients the do-not-talk-to-the-police spiel and was constantly disappointed by the fruitlessness of the spiel. now i understand because i failed the test myself! i tried to answer the questions politely like i was taught as a little girl, but finally remembered my own advice and told her (yes, her, ugh) that although she was entitled to my name and address, i had nothing else to say to her. she continued to ask me questions. the same questions over and over again, i guess to see if i would give different answers. she accused me of lying after every answer and hinted at dire consequences for doing so. she accused me (incorrectly) of evading service and informed me (incorrectly) that i would be in big trouble if i did not let the constable serve me. as aaron pointed out, why is it that it's a crime to lie to a police officer when he can lie to you all he wants? she finally gave up when it was clear that these techniques were not working on me and i know more about the law and her rights than she did. most people (especially those out allegedly committing crimes and ESPECIALLY kids) are not in that position, however. my disgust with custodial interrogations and statements to the police has increased ten-fold in a mere 7 minutes.

and the officer's excuse for treating an ordinary and innocent citizen like a criminal: based completely on unsubstantiated hearsay from a biased, paranoid and elitist little girl with her own history of vandalizing my marital property. this is such a ridiculous and insignificant event in my life, but the big picture just blows me away. maybe the maricopa PD has it right with their overwhelming hatred and distrust of law enforcement ... in which case, maybe i will more seriously consider defecting to a deserted tropical island. tom hanks survived it AND he had a good tan.

Sunny Sunday

first, a christmas update. please make that SIX happy-first-christmas-together ornaments. there was one more hiding under the tree. also hiding under the tree HALLELUJAH were two more boxes of chocolate-covered marshmallow santas that were not affected by the abysmal weather (and the original box has now recovered).

i made gingerbread cookies (the word "made" being used very loosely to mean that i took the dough out of the gigantic rod and rolled it into fun shapes to bake) and fell asleep on the couch. when i awoke, aaron had decorated them with white frosting and red hots -- into mormon missionaries, creations reminiscent of pablo picasso, beatnik hippies, 666 calls to satan, etc. hee hee. this one's my favorite, with it's red toenails, lop-sided stare, and bloody fangs.

my in-laws ate bagels with smoked fish and raw onions for breakfast on xmas. weird. although i did spend the entire rest of the day devouring warm jalapeno-artichoke-cream cheese dip so i should keep my mouth shut. and really, does breakfast matter when you get to wear the diamond and tahitian pearl earrings your husband gave you!?! they are simple and classy and gorgeous and perfect. *dreamy* they do not, however, photograph very nicely, but since i'm bragging i had to try. if you look closely, you can also see the sun setting behind the jail and the HUMONGOUS mounds of snow outside. christmas day was nice and relaxing until we had to drive back up the mountain in the "wintry mix." i guess the wintry mix is a novelty here, because the residents feel they are entitled to nice clean powdery white snow, albeit gigantic mounds of it. our apartment could easily double as the snack bar at a skating rink with all the xmas goodies we have stashed inside and four solid inches of ice covering the lot.

anyway, aaron was feeling claustrophobic under that sheet of ice so we escaped to sedona for the day yesterday, where sunny and 50 degrees feels like heaven. and what better way to start the day than trying out your new coffee-flavored beer -- lagunita's cappuccino stout. kelley says: chewy. followed by an actual cup of coffee, the slow winding decent down to oak creek, and a looooong, leisurely stroll down the bell rock pathway in the crisp sunshine.

walking around this for a few hours helps clear your head and put things in perspective ...

First Christmas

i have come to the conclusion that christmas = insanity.

this is mostly because i got a part-time job in retail for the holiday season to keep me out of trouble and put some extra $$$ in my piggy bank. the joy of this was fully realized when i jumped out of bed at 4 AM to get ready for black friday ... called black friday not because it's an abysmal day to be outside (although it WAS an abysmal cold, rainy day to be outside in flag) but because it's the first time all year that retailers make a profit. that's 11+ months of red fridays and basically 4 weeks of holiday shopping. 4 weeks of insanity, culminating in today -- the LAST day of christmas shopping. i expect i will run into more men today that have no idea what to get their wife/mom/sister so what is my favorite? and can i just please throw one of those into a bag for each woman in their life? NO, they don't need to sample it first and NO, it doesn't matter that my wife and my mother are getting the same gift (trust me dude, it matters to your wife) but YES, since i suggested it they will take a couple of those also. silly fools.

it is a job that i find ironic -- because let's be honest, "customer service" does not come before or after "kelley" in any word association games -- yet strangely enjoy. it's as close to being a personal shopper as i will ever get and it's comforting to be surrounded by bright, shiny things all lined up neatly in rows with labels facing outward, even though i must suffer through a hillary duff song in the christmas mix we've been playing over and over since november 2. plus, neither time nor weather exists inside the fortress of the mall. i get to spend a few hours a day back in the womb.

speaking of weather, there is about 2 feet of snow on the ground right now. more accurately, there's a foot of snow, then a nice thick layer of ice, topped off by another foot of snow. with an additional foot of snow expected in the next 48 hours. the first white christmas i can remember! OK, i'm over it. snow was pretty for the first 4 hours. then it becomes 8-foot high brown mounds lining the road and dotting parking lots. plus, it's so cold that my chocolate-covered marshmallow santas are hard and unappetizing. i am significantly less miserable since i got a pair of hideous cranberry-colored fur-lined boots, no doubt the best $25 i've spent in 2008. still, in the tally of ass-busting, i'm up 2-1 to aaron. boo.

my family did make sure that aaron and i were outfitted with a christmas tree + decorations for our first christmas, including, count them, FIVE happy-first-christmas-together ornaments. our little tree is fairly non-traditional with its cupcake, snowflakes, six-pack of beer and pickle on top... all of which i will re-box after the holidays and treasure for eternity. i am obviously destined to have a tree covered in wedding cakes.

this is not however a first christmas for the jancaitis girls taking family photos with santa & mrs. clause. although we celebrated early in december, it is comforting to know that there is some peace in the world. even if only in the form of comfortable insanity -- the kind i grew up with and have become strangely fond of...

Here Comes The Hotstepper

so while i was home last week, i was lured into an afternoon at bring-your-sister-to-work-day by the promise of homemade ice cream. and let's be honest, eighth grade science class is an adventure not to be missed. next time, i am definitely bringing aaron to show him that kim's job is worse than his.

first, the security in at the middle school is INSANE. i had to hand over my license, which was scanned into some machine that somehow retrieved my driver's license photo and printed it out onto a name tag that allowed me to go to the principal's office. and nowhere else. when i let the harried secretary know that "miss j" was expecting me, she had me wait until she could find someone to escort me down there. eventually i was allowed to travel the M.S. hallway, flanked by a security officer of some sort and two 6th graders who had just gotten into a scuffle in the boys locker room at gym class. i can't legitimately use the word "fight" for these two scrawny punks who probably exchanged girl slaps before mr. security butted in.

i helped answer questions out of the pH workbook (most of which i still knew the answers to, go me!) and then kim paired me up with some pipsqueak in the back row who thinks he's too good to have a partner. i knocked him down a peg by pointing out that he was doing everything wrong and did he really want to mess up our ice cream? i also learned that salt (the solute) decreases the freezing point of ice (the solvent), melting the ice into water that is colder than 0 degrees C. this is why people salt roads and sidewalks in bad weather. side note: i have even USED this info recently!

an afternoon of science experimenting later, i came to two realizations:

1. all middle schoolers are ugly. yes, all of them. sure there are some that could be labeled more attractive than others, but this is mostly a result of superior personal hygiene and a modicum of fashion sense, and so it would be more correct to say that some M.S.ers are cleaner than others. they are all awkward, lacking in self-esteem and have some display of disproportionate features.

2. all M.S. boys are of questionable sexual orientation. they have at least one of the following attributes which calls their masculinity into question: a high, squeaky voice. a super-preppy outfit bought off the mannequin at american eagle. long, shaggy pete wentz hair. a lot of cologne. a distinctive giggle. an opinion on who is the cutest boy in the twilight movie.

although they are oblivious to pretty much everything not within a 2 foot radius of their wandering minds, the kids are fairly entertaining. some boy asked miss j: can ben help pass that out? i asked him if he had just referred to himself in the third person. and even though he was super-dorky, he still knew what third person was! (and correctly answered yes.) mostly i tried to picture these kids hanging out in a dark cafeteria at a M.S. dance gyrating awkwardly to ini kamoze, whose only #1 song hit the charts in 1995 and was a favorite during my own awkward (and apparently ugly) M.S. days.

act like you know, rico
i know what bo don’t know
touch them up and go, uh-oh!
ch-ch-chang-chang

{lyrics immortalized by ini kamoze}

it wasn't a total loss though -- the ice cream was good! kim also dumped a huge bag of ice water on some girl's leg which was funny. and at the end of the day, they all went home!

kim and i did go see the twilight movie together the previous night, so we were prepared for the discussion on who was the cutest boy. (edward, overwhelmingly, despite his awful lisp.) i thought they were all weird looking. and on a side note, it was a GREAT movie. i love low-budget films with bad acting, poor continuity, weird music and awkward, teenage dialogue. no seriously, i do. i definitely recommend it for mindless, teenage-vampire-romance entertainment and don't worry boys -- rosalie is a big-booty-judy and will keep you entertained too.

The Earth Clinic: Update

so last night while aaron and i lazily watched game 7 of the ALCS (go rays!) i perused the earth clinic's page on apple cider vinegar cures. i definitely recommend it, purely for entertainment value ... one guy swears that ingesting a small amount of apple cider vinegar daily helped "reduce the incidence of foul-smelling stools"! another woman claimed that after only 3 days of ACV, her hair had grown one full inch. apple cider vinegar allegedly cures baldness, allergies, sinus infections, gout, acne, cold & flus, acid reflux, arthritis, indigestion, joint pain, and athlete's foot. it will help you lose weight, improve your libido, and regulate your blood sugar. it practically erases burns overnight. bathing in it will reduce the appearance of cellulite and disintegrate unsightly moles. people give it to their pets and livestock to improve their health and prevent fleas. no less than 55 people report multiple miracle cures. !!! one guy swears it has reversed the aging process, supremely pissing off his wife with all the attention his newer, younger-looking self is getting.

as you can see, it gets a little ridiculous. and these people all somehow fail to mention the foul-smelling and caustic properties of apple cider vinegar. but since i already OWN some apple cider vinegar which i am probably never going to use (see foul-smelling/caustic above), i have decided to do my own experiment. i will take 2 teaspoons of apple cider vinegar 2x per day for 2 weeks starting today. i tried a capful in ice water as mary recommended, but it doesn't seem to dilute the intense taste/smell at all, so have returned to the festive cactus shot glass. it's a nice way to start the morning.

i don't have a lot of serious ailments to document improvement on, but on november 3rd, i will report back my amazing results. aaron says: for an attorney, you sure do buy into a lot of ridiculous things you read on the internet. we'll see what he complains about when i wake up in two weeks looking like a barbie doll with superhuman healing powers and rose-scented poops.

The Earth Clinic

a little note for those of you who fall into the category of too busy/too poor to go to the doctor: GO TO THE DOCTOR.

this week, i woke up with a sinus infection. it didn't sneak up on me slowly but instead the pain and congestion assaulted me out of nowhere. my head hurt. i couldn't breathe. my ears were tickling. all of the sudden, phlegm was everywhere. being too poor to go to the doctor, i turned to my good friend, the internet, in search of a homeopathic remedy with the hope of preventing the natural progression of the sinus infection to an ear infection. i came across the earth clinic, where silly hippies near and far share their distaste for antibiotics and desperate attempts to avoid prescription medication. here are some of the miraculous remedies i attempted in reverse order of exciting results:

1. change your diet. for sinus infections, this means no sugar and no dairy products. i tried this for a few days, although it is nearly impossible given that those two substances account for about 95% of my daily caloric intake. for example, i decided to do this after my breakfast of baked cinnamon apples and butter pecan ice cream. maybe it works ... it's hard to tell because i get so grumpy sans high fructose corn syrup.
kelley says: i'm not willing to trade ice cream for good health.

2. heat. adding heat to your face helps loosen up the phlegm and get the infection moving. hot shower. hot tea. hot soup. hot compresses. although comforting in the short-term, not very effective at getting to the root of the problem.
kelley says: eh.

(FYI this is where things start getting good.)

3. garlic. apparently garlic and onions have natural antibiotic properties. the earth clinic recommends chopping up fresh garlic, marinating it in olive oil, then dropping the concoction into your ear for 10 to 15 minutes to cure ear pain. OR putting the "heart" of an onion in your ear and covering it with a cottonball overnight. i half-assed the attempt and walked over to the natural food store in search of some garlic capsules.

instead, i found in the herbs for kids section (because please let's project our distaste for medical professionals on sick children), a little glass bottle of "willow/garlic ear oil." ingredients: extra virgin olive oil, fresh garlic cloves, calendula flower, willow bark, usea lichen, vitamin E oil. so except for that fungus thing, it's pretty much like i just cooked it up at home according to the recipe. (and i can sleep well tonight knowing the ingredients are all certifiably organically grown and/or ethically wildly harvested!) i squirted a dropper full into each ear, let it sit, then stuffed in a cottonball. it is fragrant for sure -- i accidentally dripped some out of my ear onto the couch. i tried to angle my head away from aaron at the movie theater. and i had an insane craving for a huge spaghetti dinner all night.
kelley says: since i already own this product, i'll probably try it again sometime when i want to induce a hunger frenzy in my husband. or the next time i wake up with ear pain. or when vampires attack.

4. hydrogen peroxide. ok, some people think hydrogen peroxide is a miracle substance and suggest many ways to use it to fight infection. first, i poured it in my ears. the earth clinic recommends letting it sit until it stops bubbling, then drying the ears out. have you ever seen hydrogen peroxide (or H2O2, as it is affectionately referred to by its worshipers) STOP bubbling? once the H2O2 worked its way into my ear, 15 minutes of bubbling was all i could handle -- and there was no sign of slowing down. even after i attempted to dry my ears out with a Q-tip and hair dryer i could still feel it bubbling an hour later. it did stop the tickling in my ears though.

second, i used it in the neti pot. karrie & kim gave me a neti pot for my birthday, as a joke i think, but once you get used to running a saline solution up one nostril, through your sinus cavity, and out the other side (usually into the bathtub), the nasal douche isn't so bad. aaron gets some good stuff out of there after spending a day at the bike shop breathing in dust and chemicals. my excretions are usually less colorful. boy was i in for a surprise though! i approximated a 1 H2O2: 5 H2O ratio in the neti pot and gave it a whirl.

as promised, it BURNED. and BURNED. and BURNED. i guess it did attack the infection because it actually blocked my sinuses back up with flurries of bubbles that i was eventually able to expel (in humongous bloody, phlegmy blobs) into the bathtub. after i gave up on the pain and cleared the solution out of my nose, my body tried desperately to repel the leftover bubbles through 30+ rapid-fire sneezes which likely rid my sinuses of billions and billions of additional germs.

finally, i tried to gargle with the leftover solution to cure my throat of its tickle. i'm not sure who thinks that adding bubbles to your throat is going to cure a tickle, but that person is wrong. although the peroxide did eventually burn through the mucus stuck to the back of my throat, it was a long, irritating process.
kelley says: the costs in pain and irritation of the bubblies outweigh any perceived benefits.

5. apple cider vinegar. another naturally-occurring miracle. i think the theory is that it changes the pH of your body, making it an undesirable habitat for germs. having just bought some apple cider vinegar to make borscht last week, i thought this would be an easy one. you're supposed to drink a couple tablespoons per day. some people complained about the taste, so i figured the best way to get it in would be via a shot glass. i've had my fair share of tequila shots (and snakebites) and this could be no worse, right? i measured the apple cider vinegar into my festive cactus-shaped shot glass and gave it a go ... i'm pretty sure it instantaneously began burning a hole into the lining of my stomach. although i began to feel better after chugging a glass of water, it was worse than any tequila shot i've ever had.

realizing that my gag reflex would never allow another shot of apple cider vinegar into my stomach, i then tried breathing in steam from a 50/50 vinegar/water mixture. instead of burning my stomach, it burned my eyes, my throat, and as far inside of my sinuses as i could breathe it in. plus, it made the whole apartment smell like vinegar for 24+ hours. i did NOT put it through the neti pot as was also suggested.
kelley says: i am the owner of a weapon of mass destruction and didn't even know it. i am 100% sure it kills germs and anything else it touches, but am too scared to use it. i'm going to start carrying it in a spray bottle in my purse for personal protection.

in the end, i stocked up on over-the-counter super-sinus medication and feel remarkably better after a few days of diligently following the recommended 4-hour dosage requirements and overloading on vitamin C. although i find these old wives tales (and the rampant enthusiasm for them) very entertaining, next time, i'll go to the doctor. i can wait till i actually have an antibiotic resistance to punish myself with natural remedies again.

Dumbass

i love wind. it is refreshing and powerful and clean. it will also burrow an icy hole into your skin and blow your hair into your newly-applied lip gloss if you're not careful.

last night i went outside and sat on the front stoop to breathe in the 40 mph wind gusts. in the dark. in my underwear. "you're a dumbass," my husband said as he propped open the door and drove off on some boy errand. wind is his least favorite weather phenomena.

as soon as he pulled away, a big gust of wind blew the door shut. shit. i mean, shoot.

so what is the thought process of a highly-educated person who finds herself scantily-clad, locked out of her apartment without her purse, and shoeless in a city where she knows no one? first: whatever, aaron will be home soon. i went about my business of enjoying the wind -- surprised at how warm it was in the lulls between gusts. i checked out the stars above flag, the first international dark-sky city. i scared off the raccoons that emerged from the bushes. second: this is boring. i read the newspaper someone left on the stoop. i searched for and found the three constellations i can recognize. i pulled some weeds from the flower bed.

then: i really don't want it mentioned at my funeral that i froze to death on a stoop in my underwear. i reviewed in my mind every fact about hypothermia and frostbite i learned from reading call of the wild in 4th grade. i confirmed that my skin was not turning white. i tested out different parts of the yard for minimal wind exposure. i considered wrapping myself in the newspaper. i walked around the building, peering in windows, and confirmed what i already guessed from casing the parking lot: no one else was home. and as my teeth chattered uncontrollably: should i walk out to the highway in my undies? maybe someone will stop and let me use their cell phone without also sexually assaulting me?

that is when my law school education comes in handy and i remember necessity as a defense to trespass. (too little too late, you say? i'll take flashes of brilliance when i can get them...) i found 2 locked cars in the warehouse parking lot and headed back to the SUV belonging to apartment #6. that guy is weird and stinks and has a "nutcake" bumper sticker (???) but it looks like he lives out of that SUV so there must be a blanket or coat or sleeping bag or canoe in there. i came to apartment #4's sedan first -- SCORE. she apparently sees no reason to lock up her granola bars, sonic cups, and factory-issued tape deck. i borrowed the towel on the backseat and a handful of quarters from the dash and began my trek to the nearest pay phone.

thankfully, the shell station was closed, so i enjoyed some privacy from the drunk natives usually hanging around the phone booth, shivering in my makeshift towel skirt and bare feet. aaron, this is kelley. i'm locked out. yes, i'm calling from a pay phone. yes, at the shell station. yes, i walked here. yes, in my underwear.

i couldn't even look at aaron when he arrived to pick me up because i knew that if i did, i would bust out laughing hysterically at what an idiot i am and the drama queen side of me absolutely would not allow anything but mortification at my near-death experience, and although he never said it, the "i told you so" looming in the air.

finally, the epiphany: when did i start taking myself so seriously? the time for drama is over. i laugh at the time kim and i literally beat down our own christmas tree with what we thought was an axe but was in reality a splitting maul (explaining why our "axe" didn't actually CUT the tree). i laugh at the time i threw up gallons and gallons of peaches after spending a day canning them with rebekah. i laugh at the time i got sent to the principal's office for wearing a sign around school that read "i am a flaming bitch from the deep dark caves of hell." i'm sure you all are laughing at me right now too.

so i survived my evening in the wind with no permanent injury and returned apartment #4's things to her car (plus some bonus quarters!) without incident. this will be the last time i leave the apartment sans keys, cell phone and/or pants, but i'm sure not my last chance to laugh at myself... laughter which i will NOT be holding back. after 26 years, i'm (still) OK with dumbass.

blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused.
{author unknown, courtesy of beav}

Movin' & Shakin'

so the past eight weeks of internet silence have been a strange mixture of insanity and lethargy, much of which i will save for a later date, when the sanity and energy return. however, there have been some notable developments.

1. i have become slightly more identifiable in an FBI line-up (depending on which body part the witness got a glimpse of). first, i bent down in front of the entertainment center one day, and stood up in just the perfect way so that the corner of the glass door jabbed me right in the hip. yay for long, bloody, jagged gashes. it's fading nicely with all those womanly stretchmarks, but DANG it hurt.

then, i crashed my bike running errands around town. about 20 minutes later on the same day, i crashed my bike again. whoops. of course i had a mini skirt on because it is important to be cute while you are riding your bicycle around town. luckily, i landed on my right side both times, intensifying the bloody scrape from my ankle to my hip and the gigantic bruise on my elbow. and i only got one rock lodged under my skin that eventually worked its way out. i have been crash-free ever since i got the skull-shaped valve covers with burning red eyes to protect me from those vicious rocks & sticks that appear without warning on the sidewalk.

finally, i jumped off a 100-foot cliff into crystal creek outside of winslow, AZ. no big deal when i was 16 -- almost killed me at 26. this is the kind of danger that can arise from trying to be more badass than your husband. in a joint effort with my sister the nurse, aaron's brother the chiropractor, and the glorious internet, i diagnosed myself with a back sprain and forewent a trip to the doctor. side note: karrie did help keep things in perspective by pointing out to me that if i did go to the doctor, i needed to be sure to request the extra-long neck brace (or maybe two stuck together) to properly secure my giant giraffe neck. although no scars from this, i do occasionally make aaron check me out for the beginnings of a hunchback. because it doesn't matter what kind of skirt you're wearing on your bicycle, you're not cute if you have a hunchback. so far so good.

2. aaron and i trekked back to VA for a delayed-onset wedding reception. my family (and associated committees) worked really hard and it was really a nice, celebratory event. we co-mingled our parents. lots of surprise guests -- including my kindergarden teacher -- family, and old friends. the cupcakes were adorable. i honored my family with song. side note: who knew my momma and aunt barb had such good shoulder dances in them? (appropriately discovered during juvenile's family-friendly hit: momma got ass.) the food was good. bob schneider provided the background tunes. the weather was gorgeous. and aaron finished up the dregs of the keg the next morning.

i'm still trying to figure out how to get an electronic copy of the scrapbook my mom secretly put together of aaron and i through the years. it is unbelievably adorable. there's one page where you can barely tell the difference between us. oh except, as aaron pointed out, i'm twice the size of him.

although i feel like the event cemented aaron into the family, it reminded me exactly why i chose the 7-person wedding. and i didn't even have to DO anything for this event except show up and look pretty.

3. back when aaron and i first became BFF, renting a margarita machine was on the top of our to-do list (along with a paper football rematch, stealing his brother's corvette, and find a perfect tumbleweed which we would then mail to my mother...). so naturally a frozen margarita machine was a perfect wedding gift! our first batch of margaritas, though delicious, were not very frosty -- despite the look of pure excitement on my face. but they were still margaritas, so who's complaining!?! and no worries: we are ready to employ the scientific method of trial-and-error in order to achieve margarita perfection.

4. many, many abnormally large felines have been sighted in and around our neighborhood. just yesterday on our sunday drive, aaron slammed on the brakes and backed us down a residential street to check out the enormous cat sitting on someone's front stoop. i did not get to see it in motion, but my husband assured me it was fantastic. then, last night after our cookout, aaron swerved out of the drive to our apartment when a flash of white out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. unfortunately i was too stunned/giggly to capture him whipping into a parking spot, flipping on the brights, and running in pursuit of the beast.

i continue to adore these silly things about my husband, who will cause a traffic accident to get a good look at the animal that just crossed the street in front of us and is perfectly entertained sitting in his truck outside the alpaca farm with me for 20 minutes making fun of their silly haircuts.
despite the insanity .... there's still a reason to smile for the camera.

Two Of A Kind

i love my husband all the time. but some days i am so overwhelmed by it that i have to take a step back from myself, squint my eyes, and wonder ... how the hell did i get here and who is this crazy man and how did i get so lucky that he wants to hold my hand?

what should've been a long, taxing day last week -- doctor for aaron in the AM, whoosh down the mountain to the surface of the sun (aka phoenix), doctor for kelley in the PM, chugalug back up the mountain to the in-laws' to spread birthday wishes, return home long after dark -- instead turned into a long fit of giggles.

so we're sitting in the doctor's office, waiting for the conclusion of aaron's physical, when i discover the foot controls for the examination table. and move him up a little. and down a little. then back up some. then i tilt him to the left a little. then to the left as far as i think i can without him tumbling off the edge in his cute little backless sheet-dress. repeat to the right. repeat to the left. tee hee hee. then i move him up as far as the table will go until the whole thing starts putt-putt-putting and shaking wildly and smelling of hydraulic fluid. this, of course, is when the doctor arrives.

aaron loves this doctor, who is about a hundred years old and uses a gigantic turquoise and silver belt buckle to hold up his tommy hilfiger khakis. so we do not leave the office without an autographed copy of dr. carl shrader's: how to be your own doctor, which contains 100+ chapters on topics ranging from asthma to liver disease to whiplash. my favorite chapter (and obviously the most germane to my existence) explains what to do in the face of a biological warfare threat. it's an incredibly thorough manual, that i expect will get a lot of use in my marriage given its composition of equal parts hypochondriac and germophobe. thus, our whoosh down the mountain became an impromptu lesson from dr. shrader (ca. 1908) on masturbation and contraception. tee hee hee. the fact that i backed into a parked car on our way out the lot was almost completely lost on me.

at doctor's office #2, aaron asks the nurse if he can wash his hands. sure, she says, there's a bathroom around the corner. oh no, aaron wants to use this sink. why? because he likes the way that particular soap smells -- the kind he used to use when he was working with human cadavers in college biology. the nurse informs us that vionex contains a spermicide and foolishly leaves the room unattended. somehow, a bottle ended up in my purse. side note: although the bottle touts its pleasant fragrance and skin conditioners such that it is suitable for frequent use, it also cautions the user to "wash in a well-ventilated area."

a quick run into walmart for a birthday card is slowed considerably when aaron discovers a motorized cart abandoned in the parking lot. such a nice boy, he decides to run it inside to save the employees a trip. i continue walking at a regular pace and when i reach the door, turn around to see that aaron is still in the middle of the parking lot. my perfectly healthy husband is sitting on an electric shopping cart literally traveling at 1 foot per hour. and tooting the horn. we proceed to purchase a card that includes the phrase "please do not urinate on the dance floor." tee hee hee.

of course, every day is not so magical. but when magic is as simple as sneaking out in the middle of the night to take a photo of the police mobile photo enforcement van (fair is fair -- it was taking a picture of us) or tirelessly investigating the new bigfoot discovery or squishing onto the couch to become entrenched in a nat-geo special until one of us falls asleep ... i have great hope for the future.

Out Of Retirement

last night was my two-month anniversary -- HUGE, i know -- so i decided to surprise aaron. i was very mysterious about my intentions when i packed him up in the car and carted him down to bushmaster park ... to kick his ass in basketball.

i use the term "kick his ass" loosely. i retired from my intramural basketball career in 2005, having scored a grand total of 5 points in a season (but probably committing 250+ fouls!) i'm not a bad shot if i have time to think. which is never in a game of basketball. my defense is intense -- hence all the fouls. another problem is that i don't really know the rules. aaron told me that i was double-dribbling. my response: i don't know what that is, so it doesn't count. i probably last played basketball 1-on-1 with christopher right before i graduated law school. we were pretty evenly matched: he knew how to play basketball, but i had 2 feet and 15 years on him.
SO "to kick his ass" really means "to rub up against him while periodically handling a basketball."

it turns out that bushmaster park is full of sketchy drunk natives, so we left in search of a new hoop when the score was tight: 2 to 1. we now have a complete inventory of basketball hoops in the flagstaff area. neither of us can really see in the dark, so i'll blame the glaring lights at the rec center for the fact that it took us an embarrassingly long time to score 21 points. total.

i have a fat lip and got poked in the eyeball. it is still unclear what i was poked with (possibly something attached to my own body...) we paused the game at that point -- while i was up 11 to 10. the basketball is tucked safely away in the trunk with the air pump until further notice, which hopefully will be soon. i don't really know how aaron felt about the surprise, but he laughed a lot -- presumably at my awesome skillz and propensity for injury, and maybe the time he tried unsuccessfully to make a shot under his leg -- and i thought the whole thing was hilarious. and let's be honest: i've nothing to lose at this point, because improvement is the only option.

in other news, i have pretty much recovered from my death threat last week. it's always the day that you think you just need to slog through uneventfully that results in a near-assault by your client's mom in the waiting area of the courthouse. praise the lord for the seven people who were holding her back and my JPO security detail for the rest of the morning. i, in true oblivious-kelley-fashion, failed to realize that the hysterics were directed at me until after my client fled the courthouse and i chased her barefoot in a suit down the highway to try to calm her down before she hitched a ride with some trucker of questionable moral character.
is this in my job description?

every day is an adventure.

Ting Tang Wallwalla Bing Bang

7 weeks ago, i felt pretty realistic about getting married -- i never thought that it would be easy. i certainly was never foolish enough to think that being married to aaron in particular would be easy. but i DID (foolishly, i guess) think it would at least be easy for the first couple months or so. NO ... thusfar, we are a disaster. aaron is a mess, i am a mess, and together, we are a mess. though i do not care to elaborate, i will be sure to update everyone on how my consultation with the exorcist/astrologist/witch doctor goes. i'm sure it's nothing that can't be cured with the right enema.

BUT even though i wish wish wish at least one of us could catch a break, i'm still enjoying myself and learning about lots of interesting things. like malt liquor! on friday night, aaron and i followed up our happy hour fruity beverages with a trip to the skeezy corner liquor shack where i had my first lesson on the 40. lesson #1: it probably does not matter which one i pick because they are all kind of raunchy. i cheated (only a little bit!) and chose something slightly < 40 ounces. lesson #2: 40s cannot be consumed just anywhere. for example, you cannot simply purchase your 40 to drink in the privacy of your own home. instead, preference is given to open air, public places, and high perches (sometimes necessitating the use of a paper bag). or in our case, a rock ledge off the urban rape trail system, which come to find out, is sporadically decorated with the remnants of 40s past and frequented by drunk natives and homeless vets. lesson #3: you will pee A LOT of times during the course of 40-consumption. given the guidelines of lesson #2, dress accordingly.

notwithstanding problems associated with lesson #3, it was hilarious. probably still a disaster, but one that makes me laugh.

i spent most of saturday being painfully aware of what i ingested on friday night. kim swears bacon is the cure for a hangover -- in the southwest it's supposedly a mexican sausage called chorizo -- but i found riding around on the back of aaron's motorcycle with the wind in my face to be extremely effective. anyway, last night aaron was researching the distinction between beer and malt liquor (praise the lord for the internet to provide an answer to these burning questions) when we discovered a fun new drinking game: edward fortyhands.

during a game of edward fortyhands, players duct tape a 40 into each hand and attempt to be the first to consume both bottles. the rules are unclear as to whether players may remove one 40 at a time. allegedly, this game has international appeal, most likely based on it's intended result: to induce old-fashioned rowdiness or vomiting. AHAHAHAHAHA. i almost peed my pants laughing at this discovery -- it's too good not to share. it is a disaster, however, that i plan to avoid.

p.s. a quick google reveals plenty of firsthand experiences, including the variant: edward fortyhands TURBO !! whoa.

"And I Only Busted My Ass One Time ..."

although i became frustrated with my level of hygeine and the knots in my hair towards the end, camping is actually pretty fun. i suspect that the fact that we were able to park our tent next to a cool, clean, refreshing section of the virgin river contributed to my 48-hour tolerance of filth and grime. first-come first-serve at the campground outside of zion national park worked in our favor, despite leaving an hour and 11 minutes past our ETD. complete documentation of our adventures can be found here.

zion was absolutely gorgeous -- i just could NOT get over the beautiful cross-bedding! i am convinced aaron was also fascinated by this phenomenon. the geology simplified: the area used to be a giant desert, covered in giant sand dunes, which later cemented in sandstone. the area uplifted and valleys were carved into the area by the virgin river, exposing all the layers of rock. i do admit to liking the features in kanab, UT better, even though all we did was drive through, because you could see the dune features a lot better. (i know from experience the amazing # of geology field trips that can be supported by a simple roadside.)

on the 4th, we hiked up the narrows, which basically consisted of jumping around in a big, cool creek with huge canyon walls stretching up either side. we didn't quite make it the full 14 miles because i NEEDED a hot dog and a beer very badly in order to properly acknowledge my independence from british oppression. it was a really fun adventure, especially in a dress, although our feet did take quite a beating. and i only busted my ass on a slippery rock one time. unfortunately, the bruise on my ass does not do justice to the amount of pain i experienced. this photo was taken soon after my fall ... the guy who took this picture made a point to ask me if i was okay since he saw me bust my ass back there. thanks, buddy.

on our hike back to the shuttle, we encountered hilarious group of foreigners #1. i was walking along the path, totally lost in my own thoughts when i noticed the people behind me kept saying the same word over and over and over to each other: screwl. what is that? i finally figured out that they were practicing their pronunciation -- of squirrel. i started laughing uncontrollably and had to sit down and let them pass us by.

the next day, we hiked up angel's landing -- the last 3/4 mile of which has 800+ feet drop-offs on either side and features a chain system for you to hold onto to prevent from sliding off into oblivion. it wasn't scary (since i have no fear of heights), just the most INSANE trail i've ever hiked. i tried to imagine some earlier settler thinking to himself: this looks like a good place to walk. it was great. the pictures hardly do it justice, but this one provides a little scale. while on this trial, we encountered hilarious foreigner #2: the count. aaron and i kept close by him and his family during the hike in the hopes that we might catch him saying, i want to suck your blood, in his awesome count dracula accent. no luck.

the woman who checked us in to our campsite did not appreciate my suggestion that aaron and i shower together to maximize our shower tokens -- this is utah, she reminded me. oh, i responded, i forgot about that glorious fact. we showed her though ... and managed to take both of our showers together. the first night, in the boys bathroom, was uneventful. the second night, however, in the girls bathroom, there was a big disgusting mound of hair/suds clogging up the drain which aaron kicked into the stall next to us ... where someone else was showering. needless to say, she did not appreciate this, but i got a good laugh.

on the way home, we took a detour through colorado city, famous for being the home of polygamist leader, warren jeffs. we managed to find a store that would sell 3.2% beer to us on sunday -- the polygamy porter, naturally -- so as to make full use of the photo opportunity. blasphemy complete. we drove around some of the back roads (which were really probably main roads that felt like back roads...) making guesses as to which compound warren jeffs probably lived in until he was imprisoned in november 2007 for sexual misconduct with minors ... until i got super-creeped-out by the whole place and the fact that people allow their children to be raised there and made aaron take me back to the highway. side note: i'm holding fast to my refusal to move to utah. i lived in towns before where the politics were largely influenced by religion, but not by a creepy, cult-like religion. this is where i choose to draw the line.

otherwise, we entertained ourselves catching bugs, sitting with our feet in the virgin river watching the people go by, and of course, burning things. all-in-all, a very relaxing trip. i am happy that aaron is equally as easily amused as i am ... and that we can still be friends when subsisting entirely on hot dogs and lemonade while our BO is only slightly masked by a LOT of deodorant. :)

He Woke Me Up With A Bang Bang

aaron has a lot of guns. i don't know exactly how many or what kind they are. i know that he keeps them locked up in his secret file cabinet with god knows what else. (also his ex-girlfriend knows what else because she broke in there with a butterknife one time -- obviously they are very secure.) and i know that he keeps a gun in his truck all the time and sometimes will strap one to the back of his belt if he goes out at night.

i grew up in the country where there are a lot of guns and learned to shoot when i was a kid (like 15 years ago ... it never stuck). however, i am not used to having to scoot a gun over off the passenger seat of aaron's truck so i have a place to sit. i am not prepared for aaron to stick his gun in my suitcase when we leave my car with the valet at our hotel in vegas. i'm not sure how i feel about transporting his gun in the backseat of the county car while i am in court because he forgot it was in his bag and can't bring it in to work. is he ever going to shoot something? maybe ... i picture a stand-off on the side of the interstate late at night: aaron vs. the prairie dog.

in other news, aaron and i are going to utah to celebrate the 4th of july. i am excited about this, our first trip together, and to see bryce & zion even though:

#1 utah is home of 3.2% beer and the state liquor board. i.e., if you want to drink anything with higher than 3.2% alcohol, you MUST buy it on fridays from 4 to 9PM at the state liquor board and pay out of the ass for it. or you have to buy a membership to a "private club" and then can only be served alcohol if you are also buying food. ridic. not to mention caffeine-free coca-cola. this casts an even larger shadow on a state already full of freaky religious zealots and that harbored my crazy uncle for many, many years. maybe that's an unfair characterization, but i've been reading the mormon murders, which delves into the illustrious history, or lack thereof, of the mormon religion. and i'm sticking to my guns for now.

#2 we will be crossing "the rez." as a little white girl from the east coast, i previously thought that referring to the pieces of crap land our government so graciously offered to give the american indians after uprooting them and killing them with fatigue and disease as "the rez" was a political no-no. however, it seems to be pretty standard here, along with the knowledge that on the rez, you can expect to be unnecessarily harassed by tribal law enforcement, accosted by tweekers if you stop for any reason, and hounded by "rez dogs" hoping for a bite of your 99 cent burger king cheeseburger. so much to look forward to in that trek.

and #3 we will be staying at a campground. in a tent. on the ground. it's going to be 100 degrees, and there is a shower that costs $3. i have an extra $20-bill tucked in my underwear just for that.

i vow not to let these things get in the way of eating hot dogs, drinking beer (imported from AZ), and watching loud explosions in the sky in the true fashion of patriotism. i will, however, take a lot of pictures ... and am sure to have lots to report upon my return.

Good Gravy!

the cooking part of my marriage is turning out to be the most successful part -- surprise to me, cooking is easy! it is also interesting ... i am really good at looking at a list of ingredients and saying "oh, i don't want to buy a whole jar of honey and a whole jar of vinegar to use 1Tb of each -- how about i'll just buy this mustard instead, which i know i will use, and whose first two ingredients are sugar & vinegar." so far so good in my creation of jerk steak sandwiches with spicy slaw ... all as an excuse to use up the buns on our counter.

last night, aaron and i attemped a stir fry in black bean sauce. it turns out that you can make something unbelievably similar to gravy out of mashed black beans, olive oil, and minced garlic! it didn't turn out like i expected, but was excited by this gravy-making discovery -- mostly on behalf of gluten-free, lard-free-in-2008, lactose intolerant karrot, who eats practically none of the ingredients used to make real gravy: lard, flour, milk, meat grease, etc.

i made my signature 20-minute homemade lasagna on monday night -- with the leftover tofu that we needed to use up. side note: tofu is DISGUSTING. not the taste, but the jiggly qualities. the jiggling gives me the heebie jeebies. i even make aaron clean it up off the counter, and i almost threw up while he was trying to squeeze water out of it into the sink. however, it makes an excellent lasagna. kim and i were supposed to have a lasagna-off while i was home over the summer, but it never materialized. this is good for her, because my 20-minute lasagna would kick her 2-hour lasagna's ass AND i'd be able to watch three episodes of futurama while she was still in the kitchen browning meats and "sweating vegetables." whatever that means.

yes, i think it is funny that i have a signature recipe. i.e. it's the only thing i've ever made on a regular basis outside of boxed macaroni and cheese. i will reveal the secret recipe to you all -- especially tommy out in ireland to impress your many many god-like boyfriends.

you need:
two jars spaghetti sauce pre-spiced with italian flavors
one box no-bake lasagna noodles
one bag frozen assorted vegetables (i got the mexican mix this time --
broccoli, corn, cauliflower & red peppers and it turned out fine)
one package mozzarella cheese
one package silken tofu OR one tub cottage cheese
one bag frozen spinach
italian spices/garlic

in separate bowl, thoroughly mix together tofu/cottage cheese, 1/2 bag of
frozen spinach & italian spices/garlic.

in your 9 x 13 lasagna pan, layer as follows:
1/2 jar spaghetti sauce
layer of noodles
1/2 bag vegetables
1/2 jar spaghetti sauce
1/2 bag cheese
layer of noodles
spinach mixture
1/2 jar spaghetti sauce
layer of noodles
1/2 bag vegetables
1/2 jar spaghetti sauce
(you can also buy some frozen chicken chunks and layer them in there
somewhere for a more meaty experience, but i actually prefer
the tofu)

bake covered in foil at 350 until cooked through for 45-55 minutes
while you go do something fun. uncover, add last 1/2 bag of cheese, bake
another 10 or so minutes until cheese melts and browns. let sit for 5
minutes before digging in. enjoy!

needless to say, it will take aaron and i quite a while to eat 117 square inches of lasagna, but it gets even better after marinating in the fridge. you can take a guess at whether this is what i expected from married life.

perhaps you have noticed that my recipes almost all arise out of finding something in the kitchen that needs to be "used up" before we have to throw it out. kind of like a scavenger hunt! i guess some principles stick with a country girl. we did manage to dispose of two cans of food (string beans and tomato paste -- yuk) this weekend though by donating them to the food bank in exchange for free rides on the ski lift up the san francisco peaks in flag. (you'd never guess we are two responsible adults with decent-paying jobs based on our enthusiasm for free-ish entertainment.)

it was a gorgeous sunny day, as usual in AZ, although it got chilly as we made our leisurely ascent to 11,500 feet. i started getting altitude sickness around 10,500 -- where did my iron stomach go? aaron pointed out the reservation to me: "over there where it's brown." we tried to hike up to agassiz peak, but decided it wasn't worth the $500 fine for hiking off the path and posing a threat to the endangered tundra buttercup that grows up there, so we just enjoyed the sunshine and the view and laughing at all the silly hippies in their skirted hats. another successful day :)

Beanies & Weenies

so how's married life?

ummm... it feels the same except i get to watch aaron freshen up his dirty underwear with the fabric steamer before he puts it back on ... ? and i now have to negotiate my if-it's-yellow-let-it-mellow policy ... ? and my car is absolutely the cleanest and most bug-free it has ever been ... ? so, it's perfect :) but anyway, how long will i have to answer this question?

two weeks later so far so good. our first trip to the grocery store ended with a delicious, nutritious dinner of toast, strawberries & beer. i am lucky that my BFF is perfectly happy eating chips & peach-mango salsa and string cheese, but we still bought some cookbooks and decided to designate cooking nights -- i cook mondays; aaron cooks wednesdays. (the other five nights of the week we are too distracted to eat ;)

this week, neither of us cooked on our designated night -- whoops. however, last week i made a jamaican stir fry and i DID cook beanie weenies for aaron on sunday after our hike up mount elden. that ingenuity should surely count for at least two turns! this was aaron's first beanie weenie experience, and i'm not sure he will be requesting it again soon. luckily, we're housesitting for the in-laws (whoa that was weird to say) and carol stocked us up on hummus and mjedra -- some lebanese things i need to learn about. plus, there's always next week, and 52 weeks per year for the rest of my life, to try again. i am reminded of my mom's stories about peanut butter pork chops.

living in flagstaff is interesting. there are soooooo many dirty, smelly hippies in this town -- and i'm not talking mildly fragrant. even the county attorney from coconino that i met at professionalism training wears chacos.

the scenery is beautiful though and the weather is supposed to be perfect in the summertime. aaron got me an old busted up bike to ride around and crash into things until i can master the bike-riding skills i should've learned 21 years ago but didn't. it could really use a hot pink, glittery paint job in the near future. yesterday we rode around prescott valley for a couple hours. i wish i had brought my camera ... we followed an old railroad track trail through the granite dells and finally to a gas station to stock up on gatorade and popsicles for the ride home. i only crashed into one thing while aaron was paying attention (the curb ... in an attempt to jump it ahahahaha) and managed to bail out in plenty of time to avoid embarrassing injury that i would have to explain to my coworkers tomorrow.

i am sunburned beyond belief -- a testament to my advanced age -- and my lovely husband sped off on his motorcycle in search of some aloe for me so i could just lay there and relax. he returned with the spray kind, and i was treated to a cold, wet assault of aloe. not exactly what i had in mind ...

alas, every day is an adventure. and i can't complain about that.

Mrs. Aaron Ruda

yes, i am married. yes, i took his last name without even considering one of those silly hyphens even though i apparently already have a reputation as an attorney that i must uphold. yes, i did it without telling our parents -- or pretty much anybody else. yes, i married sans any prenuptial agreement -- other than a promise that we will never sleep on the couch or designate sides of the bed. yes, i moved for the 4th time in the past year, to flagstaff -- at almost 7,000 feet where it still snows in may.

no, this is not a joke. no, elvis was not present. no, i am not pregnant. no, neither of us is being sent to iraq and needs to designate a spouse in order to collect death benefits.

and no, i haven't had any second thoughts about marrying my instant BFF after dating for barely 3 months.

i apologize for my hiatus from blogging. it's not because nothing has happened -- hopefully i will have time to go back and expand on huy's graduation ceremony where i was, for the first time ever, the token white girl and sang 4+ hours of diana ross in karaoke form; our trip to the out-of-africa wildlife park that shares a driveway with my office; and my second restorative justice circle helping the "burrito banditos" accept responsibility for their drive-by-mexican-food-throwing (aka criminal damage) incident. BUT planning a wedding, even for 5 people, is a real hassle. keeping it a secret was even more work for me.

so anyway ........ i got married barefoot in a white dress, standing on the red rocks of sedona under stormy skies in the shadow of thunder mountain and chimney rock. side note: i have been assured and reassured that rain on your wedding day is good luck, in which case i should've played the lottery. i also heard (only once) that rain on your wedding day means you will be very fertile. less excited about that. the judge that aaron and i appear in front of in juvenile court read the ceremony that i wrote. we wrote our own vows. i hand-tied my own bouquet the night before out of flowers i bought at safeway because i hated what the florist did to the hydrangeas i ordered, and it turned out perfectly. aaron insisted on diamonds around my finger. he looked absolutely fantastic all rosey-cheeked in his suit. kennedy made sure we had champagne toasts from the 6 attendees and a cake, the top of which is carefully packed into our freezer for our 1 year anniversary. lana made sure we had a nice lace tablecloth (of course, how could we get married without that?) and some fine silver (that her grandfather used at his wedding ca. 1900). our few guests went out of their way to make the event really special. in the absence of our families, we couldn't have asked for a group of people that we respected more, who cared more about our joint happiness, and who truly believed in our decision. it was absolutely perfect.

the reaction has been mostly positive. except for lynn (who's token phrase is "men are like buses; a new one comes by every 20 minutes") who let me know that she'd be happy to prepare our divorce papers as soon as we're ready. :) aaron's parents are thrilled. his mom almost started crying when i referred to myself as her daughter-in-law (in the context of: say good-bye to aaron now because the way he's acting today you may end up with a daughter-in-law, but no son.) my parents have a renewed interest in coming out to visit. everyone at JPO was sure to inform me of aaron's ear-to-ear-grin when he went to work on tuesday. and i have been treated to many, many stories of marriages that have survived almost 40 years after a short courtship.

more pictures are sure to follow, but this is my favorite -- making eyes after each other after aaron tried to feed me a huge-ass piece of cake.

i like to think that his are adoring eyes ... and mine are i-love-you- but-still-watch- your-step-buddy eyes.

i haven't been the marrying type since i came to my senses after spending a semester in college thinking that my life would be fulfilled if i could just find a nice man (despite the fact that i could probably never love something so stupid) with whom to procreate 6+ times and devote myself to raising children. (egad!) i certainly never fell into the category of person who believed that when you met the right person "you just know." but when people ask me, "what was the big rush?" -- i am confused. i thought the six weeks spent between getting our marriage license (an adventure in itself since we both work in the courthouse) and exchanging eternal promises was interminable. i didn't think i'd EVER make it to may 23rd.

now i'm devoting myself to signing the correct name ... in between gazing at my new diamonds and giggling when my secretaries greet me with "good morning mrs. ruda."

Another Brick In The Wall

i turned 26 this weekend, but i'm really not any different than i was at 10 years old. as a kid, my parents' standard response to "it's not fair" was always "well sorry, life's not fair." this answer incensed me; maybe life ISN'T fair, but it SHOULD be. and instead of blaming injustice on their perceived inevitabilities of life, my parents should've done their part to make it fair. (as a caveat, i'm sure that this response was more of a quick way to end an unwanted discussion than the result of any desire on their part to avoid doing the right thing.) even though i'm a public defender and incredibly overly protective of my perfect little delinquents, my ultimate goal is still to do what's right. kids deserve consequences for their actions. however, all crimes are only alleged to have occurred until proven beyond a reasonable doubt by the county attorney or until admitted to on the record. even if my client is guilty as sin, admitted his wrongdoing to the police, and handed over the evidence in a monogrammed bag, it's only fair to make the state do its job in convincing the judge.

at 26, "life's not fair" becomes even worse. because now i feel like i should be able to do something about it. i mean, i have a couple college degrees and a good credit score and shiny pointy-toed shoes. i should be able to use the influence of my goofy smile and professional appearance to gently herd people in the right direction. but in reality, i'm not any more useful in procuring world peace than i was at age 10. there is still a mile-high brick wall in the form of apathy and bureaucratic bullshit. the people in charge aren't the ones rotting away in detention. which i suppose makes it easy for them to make excuses to sit on their hands in disregard of the constitution. it also means they have plenty of time to sit around in designer suits sipping lattes and planning their rise to the top of the political food chain on the backs of little angst-ridden 14-year-old girls with crackhead moms.

just let it go, my boss says -- there's nothing you can do. thanks lady, but turning a blind eye isn't going to help me sleep at night either. six months with a bar card and i'm questioning my faith in the justice system. or more accurately, the integrity of the morons who man it.

i thought understanding was something i was growing into (however slowly) but i was wrong. and i don't want to understand how to justify inequity or alienate myself or to go down without a fight.

Good-bye Sequins, Good-bye Elvis

so i went to vegas for the first time a couple weeks ago. what a freak show. i'm not really into gambling -- i think because i don't understand why it's fun ... i like to play UNO with my sister and that's FREE -- but i do enjoy sparkly things and people-watching. so i wandered around wide-eyed in my sequins and dark eyeliner, drinking 52-oz strawberry daiquiris in football-shaped containers, marveling at the lights and energy and craziness ... and checking out the late-night wedding chapels. i had fun, but it was a bit overwhelming for this little country girl, and i didn't last much into the second night before i didn't care if i ever saw another neon light, slot machine, transvestite, deuce bus, 99-cent shrimp cocktail, etc. ever again and marched myself up to bed.

it also did not take long for me to decide that i no longer want to get married in las vegas (in the presence of elvis and with all guests clad in sequins), even though this has been my dream for as long as i can remember. it will still be an event with as little annoying planning of minute details as i can get away with, and everyone is still welcome to wear sequins, but there is no way i would marry someone that i actually like amid such schmaltz and imprudence. and i plan to marry someone that i actually like. a lot.

in response to my last post, tiger pointed me towards this article, marry him! the case for settling for mr. good enough, which advises women to forget about passion and start thinking about developing a good family infrastructure. because if you marry with great expectations, you are more likely to become disillusioned and resentful.

this article makes me squint my eyes and purse my lips -- a look generally reserved for the judge when she's being uncooperative with my monday morning demands -- perhaps because my entire life goal is not to procreate. this is one of many reasons that mormons make me nervous (a fact that i recently discovered, having moved to the southwest where they are found in abundance.) i don't have anything against kids, but feel like i am capable of living a productive, meaningful life without recreating myself in miniature, and then spending 18+ years trying to make sure it doesn't turn out like me.

there IS a reason people become disillusioned and resentful in marriage -- it's because they don't want to put any effort into it. relationships are work. romantic relationships especially, but it still takes a considerable amount of time and effort, mainly in the form of listening and talking, to maintain close friendships and family ties and even amicability with co-workers. the real trick is finding someone who understands that and who isn't going to give up on you. why bother putting all that work into someone who only makes you marginally happy? that, people, is bad economics. if i am going to devote my energy to some boy, he'd better inspire me to answer the door for him in just my apron every once in a while.

and why do you have to overlook the poor movie etiquette and abysmal fashion sense? i dated a guy in college whose whole life goal at the time was to achieve immortality. literally. he wanted to live forever. it's easy to admit that this is weird -- less easy to admit that i didn't love him in spite of this oddity, but because of it. i date a guy now who constantly questions my motivation, my authenticity and my thought process. (he also insists on taking a whiz outside -- usually from a high perch -- anytime there is an appreciable breeze and yells "OH shit" anytime we pass a law enforcement officer, usually leading me to believe i'm about to plow through a javelina in the middle road until i notice there are red-and-blues flashing 100 miles off in the distance.) these things drive me crazy, but i don't overlook them. instead, every time they happen i roll my eyes and smile. on the inside at least.

i've got 3 words for lori gottlieb and her theory on settling: fuck that shit. i don't want to be "relatively content" with a "stable, reliable life companion." i can be "relatively content" by myself, eating frozen thin mints, watching futurama, dancing around in my underwear on friday nights, and hanging out with other people's kids. and in fact, i can be a whole step higher at "actually content" doing these things and knowing that i don't have to wonder what i may have passed up in marrying the first good ol' reliable joe-schmoe to buy me a (probably sensibly modest) diamond ring after my 35th birthday. i've got bigger plans than sensibility and complacency.

so, while i may have a more conventional wedding than i had originally planned, i will never, ever settle for a conventional husband. there will still be big old sequins behind my eyes.

Untitled

today my day started with a phone call from a client. you know you're in for trouble when the first thing out of her mouth is "you can't tell my parents what i'm about to tell you, right?" and you especially know when the next thing out of her mouth is "i'm pregnant and i want to be emancipated so i can marry my boyfriend."

at first i was flattered that my little delinquent trusted me enough to tell me this kind of information. (and honestly, i knew it was coming. the kids i represent are not the most ... well adjusted ... responsible ... risk averse ... of a group of people that is already generally irrational and ill-equipped to deal with life: teenagers. nor do they generally have the most supportive of parents.) then, panic set in. how the hell did i end up here, in this job, offering to shuttle kids to pregnancy crisis centers and having heart-to-heart conversations about teenage relationships?

on a somewhat unrelated note, i started thinking yesterday about a conversation i had with my mom (i guess almost two years ago now) about the difference between what you need in a relationship when you're 50 versus when you're 25. at 50, being comfortable with another person might be enough. but i would never let my sisters marry someone "comfortable" -- just a nice guy with a plan and a future and a life insurance policy.

of course this begs the question of what is missing from the aforementioned nice guy that makes him unworthy of the affections of a young person such as myself or my sisters... and i think the missing link is some measure of discomfort. nobody ever says "hey, i want to be in a relationship that makes me squirm, look over my shoulder, think twice, reevaluate." but maybe love is having no idea what is going to happen next but not being able to contain your anticipation that it go ahead and happen. maybe love is being OK with committing yourself to having no idea what is going to happen next. regardless, i am sure love is NOT being 100% sure that you'll always have a good dental plan.

in other news, i had a successful easter holiday -- spent splashing around in the sunshine in a cold cold cold snowmelt creek and decorating easter eggs for aaron's mom almost entirely in fun beavis-and-butthead phrases such as dumbass and bunghole. she appeared to be amused. and that's the extent of my mental capacity after days like today.

Public Defender, Day 128

i dealt with my first irate parent today. it's always good to walk into a child-family-team meeting and have your client's mother yell, "what are YOU doing here?" like you carry some highly-contagious debilitating disease. well, ma'am, i'm here to look out for your daughter's best interest, which obviously you have failed to take care of, else we would not find ourselves spending a thursday morning at the guidance clinic discussing an appropriate placement for your severely traumatized daughter whom you refuse to allow back in your house. i understand that this line is probably hard to swallow coming from me, but c'mon lady -- i'm the best thing your daughter's got going for her right now. not to mention her constitutional right to an attorney ...

people just really hate lawyers and think that nothing good can come from one. i'm used to this and do not get offended that 90% of people i meet find it necessary to tell me their favorite lawyer joke immediately upon learning of my profession. after all, when i was in third grade, i wrote a paper about how i wanted to be an accountant when i grew up -- but anyway definitely NOT a lawyer since i didn't want to be someone that my dad makes fun of at the dinner table every night. side note: praise the lord i'm not an accountant. i do find it unfortunate though, since i try really really hard to do what's best for my clients and make a difference in their lives. even if it's just by being the only adult who will listen to them or sharing a story from my own youth.

i think my parent felt better after the CFT was over and she realized that i really was only in attendance to raise hell to make sure my client doesn't spend a single extra unnecessary moment in detention. i apologized to her afterwards for being defensive (a peril of being a defense attorney i suppose) and she actually shook my hand.

in the past 9 months or so i have become increasingly and uncharacteristically tolerant of others. although i definitely still have a problem relating to WHY people do things that they do, i am convinced that they have their reasons and that these reasons probably make perfect sense to them. and that's good economics -- even if it seems ridiculous to me. all bitchy people are probably just having a bad day. all people who fail to return my phone calls are probably just really busy. all white trash are probably just inevitable products of their upbringing. anyone who knew me in high school would be shocked to hear this, since back then every misstep was a personal affront to me and deserved an ass-kicking (even if in the form of a silent battle).

i'm definitely getting old(er) and mellow(er). i'm sure i'm still a huge pain in the ass, but i've learned to pick my battles. at age 25, woot.

Dear Diary

this morning i read someone else's journal before breakfast. that's pretty early in the morning for most people to be nosing around in the private lives of others, but it's important to take advantage of the opportunities you are given, even when they do not conveniently fit into your preferred schedule. and any writing left lying on a bedside table is begging to be explored.

there's a certain amount of risk involved in delving into the bemusings of another, even, as in this case, when they belong to someone you don't know. it's almost like reading someone's mind -- and i've spent a lot of time in my own mind, enough to be sure that i would never wish it on anybody else. however, i read the journal eagerly, at least until i got cut off around mid-february. even with a blank of the past month, i'm confident as to what came next. people are generally the same. maybe it takes a peek at the deepest level of someone else's thought to recognize that.

do i feel bad about it? no. should i? maybe. but as my dad likes to remind me: don't put anything in writing that you don't want coming out at your senate confirmation hearings. i suppose i should keep that in mind while i continue to exchange flirtatious emails with the JPO...

this past weekend i went to a 6-year-old's high-school-musical-themed birthday party -- you know, as adult supervision. 6-year-olds are fun. just throw some glitter and sunglasses on them and let them run wild with charades & helium-filled balloons and they'll start partying like rock stars & yelling about what beautiful beasts they are (as seen below). i left with one hand of hot pink fingernails and one hand of glittery blue fingernails, sticky with glitter and smelling like a sugar cookie. a successful day to be sure.

Playing Catch Up

so i went a whole week without talking to my mom and she refused to accept my apology because my non-communication indicates to her that i have a life of my own. my immediate reaction: yeah right. but given the immense pile of laundry that is taking over my spare room, the fact that i haven't managed to squeeze in a haircut (despite complaining about it for weeks), and my utter dread of checking my email every day in fear that a task might appear ... maybe she's right.

last week i dogsat and am 100% sure i am too selfish/irresponsible for a pet. i am a morning person, but dragging myself out of bed and trudging out the door into the cold in my pjs and slippers before i've had a chance to brush my teeth is not how i want to start the day. and then only to be drug along by a large, hyperactive animal until the moment of truth: picking up a steaming pile of poo. there is nothing more demeaning than dealing with the poo of a creature who can outrun you. i still love raven, even though i spent much of the week chasing after her squealing like a sissy in my suit and high heels every time she caught sight of a child, squirrel, ball, etc.

while i was at kennedy's, a dead rat appeared in the drainage ditch behind her condo. at first, i was only fascinated by it's immense size -- at least 6 inches long not counting the tail -- but it soon changed to disgust when the thing somehow crawled it's dead self into the middle of the driveway. usually i'm not affected by dead things, but this guy's fur was blowing in the wind and he looked like he could've flipped over any minute and run up my pant leg. plus, how the heck did he get into the driveway!?

after more careful inspection, it became clear that the dead rat was actually a dead-something-else, like a guinea pig with a big fat tail. aaron offered to remove it, but i rejected his offer to hit it with a golf club into the neighbors yard in favor of allowing kennedy to enjoy it when she returned home. and enjoy it she did ... armed with rubber gloves, germ masks, safety goggles, a cardboard box and two big long disposable sticks, kennedy and i successfully manuevered the dead rat into monday morning's garbage pail with an appropriate amount of jumping around and girly squealing.

turns out that it was a dead gerbil and we should've kept it for the guinness book of world records. karrie had a gerbil when we were kids that we thought was HUMONGOUS but paled in comparison to this colossus. the kids next door came by the next day and kennedy told them that their little friend had passed on and that we buried it in her yard. then she miraculously located a hill in her side yard that she took them to so they could say good-bye. hopefully there are no attempts to exhume the body for a more formal burial in the family pet cemetery since ol' ratley is actually sleeping soundly in the landfill after being speared with a stick by two crazed attorneys. whoops.

also while i was dogsitting, i woke up groggy from cold medicine on friday morning to realize what i had known the night before -- that i was out of clean underwear. i'm a pretty laidback person, but putting on a previously-worn pair of underwear (notice that they don't have to be dirty -- only previously worn) is something i will not tolerate. nor will i wash it in the sink and pretend that in anyway makes it clean again. even i draw the line somewhere. like at sharing a toothbrush. my mom will find this humorous since i absolutely refused to change my underwear when i was a kid. or brush my teeth at all.

anyway, i was up late the previous night at a restorative justice circle for one of my clients -- a story in itself for another time -- and probably wouldn't have gotten myself out of bed at all if i hadn't gotten an early morning phone call and happened to be sleeping on top of my phone while it was vibrating. so needless to say, i wasn't in the best frame of mind. i ran through my options: 1. go to work without underwear on. no problem with a skirt, but not the same while wearing white pants. 2. drive past the office and up to my house to get some clean underwear. sounds reasonable, but i knew i'd get stuck there doing one of the millions of things i left behind when i moved into kennedy's for the week and i was already late for work. 3. buy a pair of underwear at target on my way into town. bingo.

i arrive in andy's office in my white pants with my new underwear tucked into my purse. kelley! he says. i'm so glad you're here ! i've got a good one -- mudflaps, interstate commerce, the whole deal, going right to the supreme court. ok, i said, but can i go to the bathroom really quickly and put on this new underwear i bought on the way to work since i realized i was out this morning? when i return andy is giggling, apparently curious as to why it did not cross my mind to do a load of laundry at kennedy's house. and you know, it never even crossed my mind a single time. here's a good example of not being able to see the forest for the trees.

now for an entirely different story: when i returned kim's car to her in california in december, there was a little bit of twinkie smeared on the outside of it. (they just don't make twinkies like they used to...) i meant to have it washed before i left, but prioritized the oil change and didn't quite make it. huy got a good laugh and kim didn't seem to mind, but it was still unfortunate since i love love love the drive-thru carwash. probably similarly to how a 5-year-old kid loves the drive-thru carwash. lucky for me, between the snow in prescott and the dust in the valley, my car needs the occasional bath here in arizona to keep it at peak shininess. and in the event that i'm too busy to acknowledge those aspects, there's always the loogey i spit out the window that landed on the side of my car and froze/congealed into a big chunk. sounds gross until you consider what i found smeared across the back seat. i blamed that one on raven though. :)

thankfully, i am feeling better. one more round though, and neti pot, here i come! prescott, and northern arizona in general, is full of (silly) naturopathic hippies. a guy in my spin class recommended i start using a neti pot -- a yoga purification technique of "nasal irrigation." basically you use this little teapot to pour saline solution in one nostril so it can drain out the other. for your enjoyment, here's an action shot. gross. however, it still sounds more pleasant to me (and probably those around me) than giving up dairy and sugar as linsay always suggested.

last night at greg's birthday party i commented that i thought i was getting more and more boring every day. dan asked me to think of something i saw that day that really struck me as amazing. although i can't disclose my immediate reaction, i know that finding something amazing in arizona is as easy as driving to work through miles of open space under the biggest sky i've ever seen. i've been here almost 6 months and it still strikes me every morning.

and re-reading this ... i still think i'm the funniest person i know :) but am less convinced that i have a life of my own :/