Pet peeve #1, part B

Okay, so I know I've already blogged about how much I hate other drivers. But every time I drive on I-26, I hate other drivers even more.



Over the last 9 months, I've spent a lot of time driving on I-26. I've gone to Charleston, Greenville, and, most recently, Spartanburg. Pretty much once a week for the past 9 months. And I swear to you, drivers on that particular highway are the worst. Maybe not on the planet (because I haven't driven on EVERY highway). But they might very well be some of the worst in the state.



Every time I get on I-26, I get stuck behind people driving under the speed limit. I know that I am a pretty speedy driver. I usually go about 15 over the speed limit. But seriously, if you aren't going to at least drive the speed limit, please get out of the fast lane. And if you are an 18-wheeler, do not, I repeat, DO NOT drive in the fast lane. That is for passing purposes only. Okay, passing and fast driving. If you aren't doing either, get the heck out of my way. No seriously, I will give you dirty looks once I can pass you.


And while we are at it, please actually get into the intersection if you are going to make a left-hand turn. Nothing pisses me off more than missing a light because the person in front of me refuses to edge their way out into the intersection so they can make it through the light. That has been happening to me a lot lately and I end up not happy, waiting for the next light. Which inevitably is a LONG wait. I'm not sure why.


In conclusion, if you see me coming, just get out of the way. It's my roadway. I bought it all when I got a car!

Clients- every attorney's dream?

I was a prosecutor with the county for quite a few years. I started working at the Solicitor's Office during my senior year of college and just never seemed to leave. In fact, I never saw myself leaving. I wondered why in the world people would want to go out into the private sector. Who would have thought I'd end up there myself?! And doing something that is SO 180 degrees different than criminal prosecution?!


One thing I always wondered about was why people complained about their clients. My thought was really, they can't be THAT difficult. Oh, young and innocent Jane. They CAN be. What gets me the most is that some clients can be so unappreciative. Yes, I understand that you are paying me to represent you. But seriously, I'm a lawyer, not a magician. If you mess up, there are times I can't fix it. Unfortunately, the law actually ties my hands sometimes. And when the statutes tell me I can't do something and there's case law to back it up, sorry client, you are out of luck. Currently, I'm the one trying to help you out. And while we are at it, don't take out your frustration on the paralegals either. You might not believe it, but they too are trying to help you out. Along with our HUNDREDS of other clients. But seriously- when you do stupid crap, you are only hurting yourself. Of course, to some degree, this feeling applied to my cases at the Solicitor's Office that involved victims. I mean, when you allow a person you don't know to "spend the night" at your house, don't get mad at me when they steal your sterling silver!!


I could write page after page on my crazy clients (or my former crazy victims). But I'll refrain. I have been hung up on, cussing at and yelled at. To the point that I've wanted to cry. But sometimes, every once in a while, I get to help someone who truly appreciates me and our office. Having a client cry tears of relief or give you a hug because you are helping them save their home is a feeling you just can't put into words. And I have to say, that makes up for all the other crap.

Historical, hysterical, whatever.....

In eighth grade, my South Carolina history teacher was Mrs. Sabo. Mrs. Sabo was awesome. The woman had done it all. She was offered multiple camels in exchange for her hand in marriage in Egypt. She went on a date to a rodeo with Elvis about 2 weeks before he became famous. She said he was a boring date. She was quite a little bit nutty as well, but in such a fun way. Any of you Hammond kids know what I'm talking about!

Back to the point of the story- she offered an extra credit option for us over Christmas break. That extra credit option was to find historical markers. If we found 20, we got some sort of extra credit. She informed us that there was a book out there that listed all of the historical markers in the state. She also informed us that we were not allowed to simply purchase the book and write them down. We had to go find them. The parentals and I, being the nerds that we are, took this as a challenge. The book was purchased. I was never allowed to look at what the markers said. Mom used the book simply to find where the markers were located. You have NO IDEA how many there are in this state. To this day, Mom has the book in her car and if we pass one we've never seen before, we mark it down. Yep- nerds to the core.

Anyway, we travel a lot to see family during the holidays. So side trips were made to find any and all historical markers in the area. My favorite was when we were near Orangeburg. The book told us the general vicinity, but we couldn't find the darn thing to save our lives. There was someone walking down the road where this alleged historical marker was located. We asked said person where the marker might be found. Said person responded, "You looking for that hysterical marker? It's just down the road. That hysterical marker's been there for years." Yep- hysterical marker. We still call it that.

By the end of Christmas break, I was ready to turn in my extra credit option. I didn't have 20 markers listed. I had over 100. I got so damn much extra credit, I think I aced every test for the rest of the year. Without even having to try! Ah- the joys of private school!

Old age is a bitch!

With my birthday coming up in less than a month, I have come to the recent conclusion that I am simply getting old. Or at least, my body is.



I tore ligaments in my ankle my senior year of high school. It was brutal. Right in the middle of a cheer during a football game. And it put me in a cast for about a month. Thereby ruining homecoming week for me. Three years ago, I sprained it by stepping off the curb wrong. No, I wasn't drunk. And no, I wasn't in heels. I was wearing flip flops and going to lunch! A year later, I resprained it running through the Charlotte airport. Again, no, I wasn't drunk or wearing heels. I was in my Danskos. I tend to NOT injury myself in my super high heels.... Anyway, I frequently find my poor ankle has a dull ache going on. Like when the weather changes. I know. Sad.



A few years ago, I started having knee problems. Diagnosis- chondromalacia. Feel free to look that crap up. Irony- it is called runner's knee. Which I don't do. At all. I did physical therapy on it. Still, my knee hurts quite frequently. Again, usually when the weather changes. It's also the reason I don't work out so much anymore. That's what got my knee hurting in the first place. And there's nothing sexy about having to wear a knee brace AND an ankle brace just so you can get some exercise in.



But here's the kicker. Last week, I woke up with back spasms. Today I woke up feeling achy. My immediate answer to these problems? Grab my heating pad and slap it on the ache. Yep- I own a heating pad. Actually, I own two. That's just because I thought I'd lost the first one so I bought a new (and even better) one. It works like a dream. But I'm just hoping that the next thing I start grabbing isn't a hot water bottle. Or some sort of chest rub. Or one of my 50 cats. When that happens, people I beg of you, take me out of my misery!

These are a few of my favorite things...

So this weekend, I was in Myrtle Beach for a work conference. Huge hotel rooms all to myself ALWAYS make me happy. We went out Friday night (of course we did- I was with work people! We love to go out). However, as an aforementioned blog stated, I am off the sauce. So I was out til 1:30 am and I was sober! It meant I didn't get a lot of sleep, so decided to bail on classes Saturday afternoon and get a nap in. Upon awakening I realized naps might be one of my favorite things in the world. Which made me start thinking about some of my other favorite things in the world.



Champagne (even though I'm off the sauce)



Brie (baked, melted, a nice chunk of it, pretty much any way it's offered)



Big glass showers in hotel rooms



Fireplaces



The smell of beach breezes



Dove's spaghetti



The smell of Mom's bread (even though I don't really like to eat it)



My best friend from high school's perfume (Tea Rose)



Brand new books



Chai tea from Starbucks



My blanket from Laura Ashley



Stargazer lilies



Chocolate



The smell of babies



Cherry Coke



Kissing



The clothing that goes along with cold weather



My Louis Vuitton



TiVo



My family



Reality TV (especially if it involves singing, dancing or modeling)


Dark hair and blue eyes


Gossip magazines


I have a feeling Julie Andrews/Maria von Trapp wouldn't be all that thrilled with some of the items on my list. But they do make me happy!

Get thee to a nunnery!

For those of you who knew me in high school, you will probably remember that I was pretty much boyfriendless for darn near my entire high school career. For those of you who knew me post-high school, you might be a little shocked by that revelation. However, I had a plan back then. And I'm going to share it with y'all now (and invite anyone to join!).

I'm going to start a non-denominational convent. We will, just like nuns, be the Brides of Christ. However, we can go out on dates with boys. We just can't ever marry them. Our "habits" will not be ugly black dresses with wimples. Instead, something sexy. Like jeans and halter tops. Or sundresses. Or the above modelled ensemble. We won't have names like Sister Mary Katherine. But instead, names like Sister Good Time or Sister Sexy Pants. We will all get donations and buy a really cool house somewhere like the Hamptons or Miami or the Caribbean. Where we can have our "nunnery" in peace and quiet. Or craziness. Whichever.

Feel free to submit an application to join my convent. Basically name, photo and agreement that you don't plan on marrying as long as you are in the convent. After all, Father Cutee left the priesthood to get married. I won't judge if you leave my convent. Mock you incessantly, but never judge! Please don't get offended by this post- I am in no way trying to be sacrilegious. Not at all!

Breaking up is hard to do......

Dear Alcohol-

I think the time has come for us to end our tumultuous relationship. We've been together a long time. We've had some good times. We've had some bad times. We've had some times I don't remember (although thank goodness, not too many of those). You've helped me through tough times in my life. And you've made some good times even better (or worse, it depends...)

Anyway, I've been noticing that lately, you've really been giving me a headache. At first, I thought it was just that I'm not 21 anymore and can't recover as well. Then I decided to test you out. I had half a beer last night. And woke up with a headache this morning. Damn you, Alcohol. You've done me wrong again.

So for now, we're going to have to take a little break from each other. Maybe, at some point in the future, we can try again to make our relationship work. I'm not saying that I never see us spending time together ever again. But for now, all good things must come to an end. And this time, it's not me. It's you.

Love, Jane