Chirky

I am trying to convince Jennifer, our law clerk, to start a blog. I've told her
how easy it is, she's thought about doing it, but still, SHE HASN'T DONE IT.

Apparently, some people don't subscribe to my mentality of Geronimo!

I think that Jennifer is pretty funny. We have a pretty similar sense of humor,
so OF COURSE we get along. And, OF COURSE I want her to start a blog. When she
finally takes the plunge, I'll let you know.

This morning I received an email from her, informing me of her morning thus far.
For those who have a memory the size of a peanut, let me remind you of one piece
of vocabulary:

JD's = JD's Chippery, as in the best chocolate chip cookies ever. The ones that
I binged on one week ago today, and subsequently felt horrible the remainder of
the day and all night long. Not to mention that Roger and I went to see Revenge
of the Sith that night, and throughout the entire movie I kept burping chocolate
chip cookies and wanting to vomit. If you ever want to vomit, just go to the
movie theater, visit the ladies room, and find the most disgusting toilet
available. This will probably be any stall you walk into. Your gag reflex will
go into action, and voila! You will immediately feel relief.

Below, find Jennifer's email to me:

On my way to work this morning, I was mentally composing an email to you in
which I was going to tell you how much God loves me because yesterday on my
drive home, as I was lamenting the fact that I wasn't going to make it to JD's
in time, my sister called me tell me that she was going there. So I'm thinking
that I've got the world on a string, as they say, and then I get here and see
that SOME HOW between my house and the office, I got dirt on my pants. And
then I tried to get it off with a wet wipe (ok, technically, a nice n' clean
antibacterial moist wipe) (some day I will tell you how much I hate the word
moist), but now not only is the dirt still there, but now I have a spot from
the wipe.

It makes me think of that Seinfeld episode where Kramer tells Seinfeld, "you
know who you are--you're even Steven." Yep, that's me. There's nothing good or
bad, but thinking makes it so, so let's give Jennifer both at the same time
and see what happens.

By the way, the cookies that my sister got for me from JD's? Best ever. Extra
crack or something, I don't know, but they were SO GOOD. I totally didn't mind
working late at school in my roach-infested office last night, until the fumes
from the spray started to get to me.

On a side note, did you know that if you are trying to kill a roach with
spray, you need to try and get them underneath? At least, this is what my
friend Adrianne was telling me last night as she was hosing one down and it
was refusing to go quietly into the good night. She had to step on it,
finally. I was so offended that it was there in the first place, I mean, I was
sitting RIGHT THERE, and really, the nerve of it, to come out of hiding while
I'm sitting RIGHT THERE. But I guess it figured I didn't know about it's
protective shell being impervious to spray. And I didn't. I'd never had that
experience. Fabreeze works just fine when you spray them on their backs. And
they say that it's supposed to be not harmful to critters.