A quick note

So Kelvin and I are taking the kids to the Houston Zoo tomorrow. I went to their site to see what their hours were, and I read this:

The Zoo's West Entry gate will be closed Monday-Friday except on weekends, free days, and special events.

Thank god we aren't planning on going on a Monday-Friday. Then I would have to call and find out if it was one of the times when Monday-Friday falls on a weekend, thereby permitting me to use the West Entry.

Ouch

So I was doing a google search for Blake Pellenberg, my brilliant photographer frined, when I got a wild hair up my ass to search my own name. I probably should stop doing that. I came across an article written by some nut job about a recent oral argument I did in front of the Fifth Circuit. It wasn't pretty. Here's how she described me:

Carole Callaghan represented the state. Young, blond, talked well but wasn’t sharp legally. My opinion. She never faltered when asked question but wasn’t legally as good as [the opposing counsel], by a long shot. She seemed to be talking without saying anything.

Ouch. Now, I make it a point to not blog about work, and I don't want to make an exception here, but I have to defend myself. Yes I am young (well, not really, but I look young). Yes, I am blonde. But seriously what do those two things have to do with anything about my argument? Apparently the author really falls for the dumb blonde line of thinking. I guess I should be thankful she said I was well-spoken, but the gratitude stops there. Seriously, did this overzealous imbecile who wrote "I know that some things went right over my head" actually state that I am not sharp legally? Really?

The non-lawyer part of me wants to find this woman and tell her to piss off and learn what the f--- she is talking about before she attempts to critize others. I want to tell her to learn how to spell my name right. And most of all, I want to tell her to find someone who is actually innocent to whine about, because this guy was as guilty as they come.

The lawyer part of me wants to calmly explain why I argued what I argued, how I had essentially no choice, and how, despite being a weak argument, it actualy was a good one.

Both the lawyer and the non-lawyer part of me what to tell this idiot to learn how to count. She wrote:

Each side was given 40 minutes to present their case and answer questions. Both attorneys divided it up at 15 minutes to present and 5 minutes for rebuttal.

Sorry, lady, but 15 plus 5 equals 20, not 40. We each got 20 minutes to argue (again...non-capital case. Arguments for capital cases are 30 minutes per side). And no, I did not divide it up 15 to present and 5 to rebut, becuase I can't. I get 20 minutes; I take it, and I sit down. I don't get a second chance like her side does.

I think I'm a good wife

So today one of my friends turned me on to the idea of getting a universal remote. I think it's a brilliant idea for a couple of reasons. First, I currently have to push a whole bunch of buttons just to sit down and watch tv. What a pain. It takes nearly 30 seconds before I can start really watching tv. That's simply not acceptable. And if I need to turn on the Wii...you know, so I can play Wiifit...I have to actually get up off the couch and find the TV and Receiver remotes so I can get everything on the right input. With a new universal remote, I could just push a button and bam, it's all done for me. Second, the one I want has really cool backlighting, and a color touch screen. It just looks neat. Yes, dad, I know, when you were my age "tv was called books." (who knows what that line is from?) But now it's just asking too much for people to have to do anything more than press a single button.

But wanting a universal remote doesn't make me a good wife. Here's what does. I told my husband that I wanted a PS3 for Valentine's Day, and that I wanted to give him a universal remote. That, my friends, is why I am awesome. Because unlike last year, where I feigned disinterest, but was then pissed when my husband actually believed me, this year, I have been very specific in what I want, and I have made sure that it's something he likes too. It's a win-win. I don't need romance (I won't lie and say it wouldn't be nice, but I'm going for realistic here), I just need true love...the kind of love that can only come from being able to play Rock Band 2 on a 67" tv with surround sound. Oh, crap...I need surround sound too.

Kelvin, now you know what to get me for our anniversary.

Oh, in the spirit of putting up pics of my family, here's a great one of Kelvin when he was in high school. Don't you just love the hair?

And here's one of Emily from the set of Capitol pictures that Blake took.

And this is one of David from last Thanksgiving:

My only B

So I got one B while getting my MBA at St. Edwards. It was in personal finance. I got a B because we had to pick portfolios and my teacher and I disagreed on a good "Buy and Hold" portfolio. She said mine was not a sound portfolio because it didn't contain any bonds, and was therefore not diversified enough. The project basically was to take $100,000.00 and invest it in investments (stocks, bonds, mutual funds, long-term CD's, futures...whatever could be tracked) that you would be able to hold onto for the long term, without making many changes. You were to make your decisions based on your age (I was about 26 or 27 at the time), which would influence how risky your portfolio should be (the further away from retirement you were, the riskier you could afford to be). I did have a diversified portfolio, I just didn't include bonds (which I find to generally be a poor investment).

Well, I have tracked that portfolio ever since. At close of the market today, the value of it was $263,265.46, which translates into a 165.77% increase in 10 years. I challenge anyone to be able to show that kind of return in today's market. I wish I remembered the name of that teacher. I would love to see what she had to say about my portfolio now. I also wish I had actually invested real money 10 years ago!

And now, deep thoughts, by the Texas Legislature

So I'm not saying that everyone has to be totally on their game at all times, but I would like to see moderately intelligent comments coming from our legislature on occasion. Alas, today will not be the day that my dreams come true.

For those of you who don't know, there has been a problem with Texas inmates getting their hands on cell phones. At least one of them, a death-row inmate, used one to call Senator Whitmire, a state senator from the Houston area, and make not-really-all-that-veiled threats. Whitmire of course was furious, and acted promptly to keep this kind of thing from happening. Thus, committees were formed, meetings were held, and people were yelled at. I don't blame him for wanting something done, I would too if someone threatened my family.

Not surprisingly though, what eneded up happening was that the phones kept making their way to the inmates, but they were getting found with more frequency. Why they keep getting in is a whole other story for a different blog (which boils down to what my dad always says...if there's a demand for somehting, it doesn't matter how much you do to cut off the supply, someone will find a way of supplying it).

So anyway, there was a "hearing" yesterday in front of...well, I don't know who, because our shoddy reporters didn't provide us with that information...presumably the "criminal justice legislative oversight committee." Whatever. (horrible reporting is another story for yet another blog) At this "hearing," there was concern expressed over the lack of punishment for the death-row offenders found to have cell phones. The article states:

Committee members were disturbed to learn that there have been no arrests in connection with the 2,800 death row calls. The 10 inmates have not been referred for prosecution. Whitmire said he was miffed to hear that authorities took into account an offender's sentence when determining whether to charge an inmate, so someone facing a death sentence, with no possibility of parole, might be spared a relatively minor contraband charge.
Gina DeBottis, who heads the prison system's special prosecution unit, said withholding privileges can be far more effective than tacking on additional time to an inmate facing death or life in prison.

Ok, let's take a look at what we have here. Ten guys on death row were found with cell phones. Their current sentence is...well...you guessed it, death. This means, their sentence will be carried out when the are...wait for it...executed. So, first, and foremost, the only way that these convictions would do any good is if their death sentences are reversed or commuted, and they could then be forced to serve time for the illegal possession charge. This is Texas, and that's not likely. We don't commute sentences here, and the reversal rate is...well, some small number. Thus, trying them in a criminal court for having cell phones is just going to cost the taxpayers money, and allow them the possibility of them getting to go to a criminal trial...in a criminal courthouse...outside of the maximum security prison they were housed in when they got the first cell phones. Yeah, let's take them to county lockup,where they will have far more access to the outside world than they do now. That's a brilliant idea.

Second, is "tacking on additional time to an inmate facing death" really any kind of punishment at all? Did they actually think this was an option? Are they planning on asking to judge to order the sentences to run consecutively?

Ahhh...the brilliance of our elected officials. Gotta love 'em.

In other news

So I vowed to keep up with Obama's work as president, because I generally feel I should be more informed about politics, and because I think he's going to screw the pooch, and I am just waiting around for it to happen. Thus, when I saw an article in yahoo news this morning entitled "Obama seeks GOP help on economy," I was definitely curious.

Here's a quote from the article:

"The goal is to seek their [the republicans'] input. He wants to hear their ideas," White House press secretary Robert Gibbs said. "If there are good ideas — and I think he assumes there will be — we will look at those ideas."

Now, I'm no political genius, but I am a mom. And if this press conference had happened in mom-talk, it would have gone something like this:

Press: "Mr. Gibbs, will President Obama actually incorporate the republicans' suggestions into his spending plan?"

Gibbs: "We'll see."

"We'll see." It's what every mother (or father) says when she (or he) is sick of the kids asking for something that there is no way in hell they're getting. The use of "we'll see" is universal. I had a similar email conversation with one of my bosses once:

Me: "Dear Boss, I know there is some extra money in the budget, now that Mr. Overpaid Employee just quit. I would like to be considered for a modest pay raise, since I've been here for nearly three years, and am still making slightly less than my babysitter."

Boss: "We'll see, Carole. There are a lot of factors that must be considered."

Guess what? I didn't get the raise.

UPDATE: Yeah, I was right.

Oh, please.

So some random prom queen from Indiana named Katie Stam is the new Miss America. And while normally, I wouldn't bother to even read who she is, I was interested for two reasons. First, my friend Kathy blogged about her, and I am interested in anything that Kathy deems blogworthy. Second, apparently, she isn't bothered with trivialities such as the laws of physics. I frequently read this hilarious blog called "What would Tyler Durden Do," which is, coincidentally, written by a guy from Slidell. Anyway, he had a picture of her from what I assume is the swimsuit competition of this year's Miss America competition. In this picture, Miss America's boobs appear to somehow float somewhere just under her chin without any concern for gravity. This is evident by the roughly two inches of empty swimsuit directly underneath the bottom of each of her boobs. Now, I understand that she's like 16 or something, and that she has never dared eat a honey-butter chicken biscuit (stupid bitch), but still, did she have to tape them that high? (and yes, boys, her boobs aren't naturally that perky...nobody has boobs that perky...not even 16-year-old prom queens turned Miss America) I mean, couldn't she just make it look like she nicely filled out her swimsuit like they do in Sports Illustrated or the Victoria's Secret catalogue (note the proper British spelling), where the women always look so natural?

By the way, I was just pointing out the absurdity of Miss America's tape job to Kelvin, and he commented that he was glad I was around to point out these things, and that I should carry on with my noble plight. I don't know what that means, but I think it somehow was an endorsement of any blog I write where he essentially gets my permission to look at pictures of hot chicks in string bikinis.

Dear God, bless you for the creation of the Honey-Butter Chicken Biscuit

So I am a pretty big fan of breakfast. In fact, after getting on the scale this morning, I think it's safe to say I am a huge fan of breakfast. I love going on business trips, because it means room-service breakfasts. I nearly always get a ham and cheese omelette, and if they have it, a Belgian waffle. With whipped cream. And strawberries. mmmm...

But I have to say that my favorite breakfast of all times is the Whataburger honey-butter chicken biscuit. It's like tasting a little piece of heaven in each bite. The biscuit is warm and fluffy...the kind of biscuit your grandma used to have baking in the oven when you would wake up on a Sunday morning. The chicken is...well, deep-fat-fried chicken. Need I say more?

And the honey butter...oh God, the honey butter. It's the perfect blend of sweet, golden honey, and liquid lard that masterfully combine to create just the right thickness and explosive flavor. As you pick up the biscuit, the honey butter drips down, rolling along your pinkie finger, glistening in the fluorescent lighting of your cubicle. Not wanting to miss one delectable morsel, you slowly glide your finger across your lips, yearning to taste the wet, sticky sweetness for hours to come. Then you flick it with the tip of your tongue...knowing there is just enough honey left to send a shiver of ecstasy down your spine as you yet again taste the sugary goodness. As you caress the biscuit, you mind wanders. You think of the last one you had. How sweet it was. How that final bite left you so completely, wonderfully satisfied, yet still hungry for more. How your thoughts would drift back to it again and again, allowing you to relive that one moment when you knew you would be totally fulfilled. The memory of that biscuit leaves you throbbing with hunger, a hunger that can only be satisfied with one thing.

Then--just when you think you can't take it anymore, that you will explode with desire if you don't just give in to yourself now...right now--it happens. Your teeth sink into the plump juicy flesh of the chicken. You run your tongue along the buttery mound of biscuit. In a passionate frenzy, you devour it, opening yourself up to the pure, guilty pleasure, the thrill of the explosive flavor, and before you know what has happened, long before you want it to end, you look down at the wrinkled wrapper, and realize its over. You push back, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. As the last tingles of pleasure wash over you, you sink into your chair, satiated by the experience, yet somehow still sorrowful that it ended so quickly. You start to toss aside the wrapper, and move on with your day, when you see it. Glimmering there on the corner of the paper...it's a drop of honey butter. You quickly glance around, knowing that what your about to do is wrong...it's somehow dirty...cheap...shameful. But you have to do it. You impulsively grab the paper before you can talk yourself out of it, and you lick. You suck in one last little drop of liquid gold off that used and deserted vessel, and you think "next time, I'll have more control. I'll savor the moment...and make it last." As you brush the crumbs off your desk, you feel a pang of guilt "I didn't get Kelvin one. He would have wanted to share this with me," or "I need to restrain; I can't give in to my every urge." But you know, deep down, that this time, it was worth it.





It always is.

More lard. I need more lard here!

So Krispy Kreme is giving away donuts today to celebrate America's freedom to choose. Basically, they (and others) are using the inauguration of President Obama as an advertising ploy. There are many would probably think that these companies are doing it b/c it's such a historic inauguration. I think that's crap. They're doing it because it's the new thing to do. Starbucks did it on election day too, and I am quite sure it was a success.

Frankly, I don't give a crap that they are using the inauguration to boost sales. More power to them, as far as I'm concerned. But the Krispy Kreme article struck me. Specifically, this passage:
"Krispy Kreme is taking the inaugural festivities nationwide," said Ron Rupocinski, executive chef for Krispy Kreme.

I think it's totally awesome that they have an executive chef. What the hell does that guy do? Does he come up with innovative donut ideas like, red, white, and blue sprinkles on the 4th of July, or red and green sprinkles at Christmas? Maybe he devises the proper amount of lard to put into each delicate morsel of donut (the chocolate iced kreme filled requires the most, ringing in at 20 g total fat, and 10 g saturated fat...if you want to go "lite," grab a traditional glazed...only 12 g total fat, 6 g saturated fat). All in all, I'd say that guy has a pretty sweet gig (pun intended). Time to make the donuts (I know, I know...wrong donut shop...suck it up, I'm too lazy to come up with a pithy comment)!

I am a total wus

So Kelvin had his surgery yesterday. It went very well, and he is recovering nicely. But I am not. I have had to take care of the kids by myself for one day, and I basically feel like...well, I can't think of a good analogy, but I can tell you I'm exhausted. Clearly, I would be the worst single parent in the world. There were about two times during the day when I thought "hey, I may live through the next few weeks," but then David would throw a temper tantrum because his arm itched, or Emily would decide that she was fatally ill, and I would go back to wanting to shove a needle in my eye (no offense Kathy...I do value my eyes).

So Kelvin, you damn well better not get hit by a bus, or run off with another woman, because I would have no choice but to sell off the kids if you did. Don't get me wrong. I love the little bastards, but damn, they're a lot of work. And all in all, they were being fairly good today. If they had been bad, I am pretty sure I would have blown my brains out. Luckily, they're cute, so they would probably land a fairl tidy sum if I marketed them properly.

I don't get it

So today, a "study" came out concluding that using Vick's vapor rub on an infant can be bad. The article's tag line says "Vicks VapoRub, the cold ointment often dabbed under noses or rubbed on the soles of feet, may cause potentially dangerous breathing problems in very young children, researchers said."

Ok, first, WTF are people doing rubbing Vick's on the soles of anyone's feet? Is it supposed to cure their stuffy nose through osmosis? Is there anyone who actually does this? And if so, are there actually enough people doing it that you should put it in your tag line?

Also, how the hell would putting the stuff on your feet cause respitory arrest? I mean searously, even in an infant, there is a good eighteen inches from the bottoms of the feet to any part of the body used to intake air.

Finally, hello? The damn product says right on the label that you shouldn't use it on anyone under two years of age. So....basically, what this article says is that we should all go into a panic and pull Vick's off the shelf, lest someone improperly expose the underside of an infant's feet to the risk of respitory failure.

Must be a slow news day.


Here's some of the other headines from MSN:

- For her kids, doc drops 116 pounds
- Clinton vows 'smart power' as top diplomat
- Man accused of selling daughter for cash, beer
- Israel, Hamas battle near downtown Gaza City
- Baby OK after surgeons remove foot from his brain

So, apparently, there is a possibility that your foot could cause respitory arrest...if it's lodged in your brain (warning, there is actually a picture of the foot sticking out of the baby's brain on this page).

Curse you MSN, you may have gotten the last laugh this time, but just wait. Next time I'll successfully mock one of your stories (I actually can't mock this story...it's bad times out there, and people are desparate. Sometimes, you just really need a beer to take the edge off).

Oh, and in the spirit of continuing to post pictures, here's one of my adorable kids hanging out with their friend Ben.

An epiphany

I just realized one of the big deals about kids. Ok, maybe not a big deal, but a point of consideration. They are fantastic at providing all kinds of photographic opportunities. For example, this picture, which is one of my all-time favorites of Emily:

The problem is, if you have pictures that aren't of your kids, you feel guilty. I don't think that's fair, because, let's face it. There are a lot of really awesome things out there that aren't directly related to David or Emily. So I am going to work very hard to post both pictures of the kids, and pictures of others. Consider it the Fox News of blogging. It will be fair and balanced. You know, like Bill O'Reilly.

Here's my problem. I don't think I have any pictures that aren't of the kids. Hmmm.....I'll see what I can come up with at home. Hang on...here's one. It's of my friend JT at the lake.

He was trying to look like me b/c I was pregnant at the time. Oh wait...damnit! It relates to my kids! Ok, I give up.

Fancy that

I just looked and realized I have three followers. HA! In your face, David! I have 3 people who read this. And technically, if you are reading this right now, I have 4.

So I guess I need to write something

I have actually written two blogs since the last one that got posted. Here's what I have learned. I can only be really witty for about 3 minutes at a time, and I can't blog at work. There is something on my work system that lets me write the whole damn thing, but then locks it up when I try to post it. And when I try to recreate the unscripted humor that was my lost blog, I realize how not funny I am. Thanks Texas. You're a real help.

In other news, someone asked me today what my blog was all about. Apparently he doesn't feel that I will have any readers. Perhaps he thinks that because I don't actually seem to be blogging very much on my blog. So tonight, I am going to send a link of the blog to anyone I can think of, just so I can get some readers and prove my friend wrong. But, to answer his question, I started this blog specifically because an old friend of mine isn't on FB or MS, and I wanted to have a place to put pics that she could see. Plus, I also like to have a place to vent. Right now, I don't really have any reason to vent, but as soon as I do, look out.

I guess since I'm supposed to put pictures up here, I had better get to it. This is a picture of my daughter playing Shaun White's Snowboard game on the Wii. It's an adult game, and Emily has never played it before. In fact, before this, she had never touched the Wii. She beat me. The first time she ever stepped on the board, she beat me. Then David (the 2 year old) got on it and took out Kelvin's high score. WTF? I think this is when I say something like "kids these days."

This next picture is awesome because it shows both of the kids (whatever, I have to put that in here), and my new TV. It's a 67" Samsung, and it is the closest thing I have ever seen to divine (I mean...my kids are the closest and it's the second...no wait, my husband is second, and the tv is third...oh who the hell am I kidding. The TV is way better than the husband and kids. I can just turn it off and walk away). Anyway, It also shows my new curtains, which I spent about 6 hours ironing. You don't have to be impressed. I am plenty impressed with myself to make up for your lack of concern.

Ok, my husband put Jon Stewart on, so I need to go. He has gotten so freakin' liberal I pretty much end up getting pissed off every time I watch the show. So, ciao for now (to my one viewer...thanks, Mark).