I like Friday the 13th for the most part, the only thing I hate about it is that they release horror movies on Friday the 13th, and I hate horror movies.  Just watching the previews gives me nightmares, actually, just tivoing through the previews freaks me out.  Ugh.  I can’t handle the mental images.  It makes watching tv less fun.  And March has a Friday the 13th as well. 

Christy is coming to visit today!  I’m so excited!  We are going to have a great time.  I cleaned my house and everything.  I can’t wait. 

I will have five years of blog entries at the end of this month.  Which means I have four past years of Valentine’s Day entries. 

So, for 2005:

http://charlsiekate.com/2005/02/14/thanks-oliver/

http://charlsiekate.com/2005/02/14/sugar-cookies/

http://charlsiekate.com/2005/02/14/hallmark/

2006:

http://charlsiekate.com/2006/02/14/happy-valentines-day/

http://charlsiekate.com/2006/02/14/happy-cookie-and-candy-day/

2007:

as close as I can get for 2007 – http://charlsiekate.com/2007/02/12/wedding-registries/

2008:

and as close as it gets for 2008 – http://charlsiekate.com/2008/02/11/the-beautiful-days-of-february/

Plus my favorite Briscoe entry ever – http://charlsiekate.com/2008/02/25/we-miss-you/

 I really enjoyed it.  I have pretty mainstream music taste, as Travers say, I have an ipod full of music that sucks.  But I love the people that were nominated.  I teared up when Sugarland won, and I about started bawling when Jennifer Hudson sang.  Al Green appeared to be having the time of his life (and I wasn’t sure if Justin was going to be able to resist making out with the Reverend), and Coldplay seemed genuinely happy and excited and maybe even grateful for winning, which I found refreshing.   I love Jason Mraz, and I really wish I had the Kid Rock album.  I love Miley, and Taylor Swift is my girl.   Umm, and the Jonas Brothers make me happy.  And they sang two of my favorite songs, ahhhh.  Stevie was slipping into the lava before he got superstitious.  Even my old childhood friends (David and Charles) were nominated (TWICE!).   Katy Perry seems like such a cool person.  She has the word Jesus tattooed on her wrist.  Her parents are evangelical ministers and her first album was a Christian album under the name Katy Hudson.  She said the tattoo reminds her of where she came from and what she can always go home to.  I’ve had her cd for a while, and now I like her even more than I did before.  I think we could be friends. 

And NEIL DIAMOND!  Singing Sweet Caroline!  I was instantly transported back to a karoke/oyster shack in panama city that only served high life beer by the pitcher with Sarah, Wes, Clint, Heath, and Emily. 

I love Alison Krauss, I think she is a musical genius, but she didn’t seem real happy to be there.  I want to believe that she is painfully shy, but she almost acted like holding the grammy award was beneath her.  I’m going to go ahead and give her the benefit of the doubt because of how her music has enriched my life, but it’s kind of hard. 

I think what I liked best about the Grammys was that an equal amount of respect was given to all genres of music, and how much fun everyone seemed to be having.  I assume that country music has been embraced because County music has the best fans in America and Nashville is a town to be reckoned with.  Lady Antebellum was nominated for Best New Artist overall, not just in country, which sort of goes to show you how big country music has become.  But I think it’s awesome that the rap stars and the country stars and the pop stars and the rock stars and everyone else hang out and enjoy each other on Grammy night.  I liked watching the guy from Green Day hug Alison Krauss.  For some reason that kind of cracked me up.  It just seemed like a happy fun event that the participants sincerely enjoyed.  And that is always entertaining.  I will always take Happy over Controversial any day. 

Britt and I have the exact music taste, it’s actually sort of creepy.  Sometimes we blast music in the house and sing at the top of our lungs.  We sound awesome.  Briscoe and Grayson love it when we sing.

I was in Lexington, SC watching a trial all day Tuesday, Wednesday afternoon, and Thursday morning.  I stayed with Jennifer and Matt on Wednesday night.  They just moved into a precious house with a great backyard.  I have my own room and everything.  Wednesday morning Jennifer and I went to Starbucks before she took Clemmie to dog school and I went back to the courthouse to be tortured by the closing arguments of the personal injury attorneys. 

Wednesday morning was mild, with a sharp wind.  It was one of the first real days of fall, and in celebration of Fall, Jennifer and I thought we deserved a Pumpkin Spice latte.  We laughed in line about the days immediately following college where we thought nothing of spending $5 a day on a coffee (because we couldn’t be expected to make our own now, could we?), and how now Starbucks is a special treat.  My new office is dangerously close to a starbucks but I do enjoy making my own coffee most of the time.  But we were both excited about our coffee treat.  When we got up to the register, the poor child behind the counter had a difficult time with my name and my complicated order (if I’m going to pay $4.53 for a cup of coffee it damn well better be custom made how I like it be something I can’t make at home), and by the time we got it all sorted out, he unhappily informed us that the espresso machine had just gone down.  Dang it.  So we ordered regular coffees, and he didn’t charge us, and he was nice and apologetic and everything he should have been.  Then as we walked away the machine started working again.  Of course. 

Regardless, every since then I’ve been feining for a pumpkin spice latte.  Seriously, I woke up this morning and knew there was no way I was going to get anything done until I had one.  And since it is Friday (a day for treats), and I woke up in time, I went to starbucks.  It was awesome.  I asked for half the number of syrup pumps, because I can’t believe how strong those things are, and it was still extremely sweet. 

When the starbucks girl handed me my much anticipated pumpkin spice latte, she said – “Here’s your cup of love.”

And I thought that was perfect. 

On my way to starbucks this morning I passed two gas stations that have gas.  And since they have gas, there was nothing short of a traffic jam to get near these two gas stations.  I really couldn’t believe it.  It was nuts.  But then again, I haven’t seen a gas station with gas in a while, so I guess everyone has to have gas for their weekend plans.  It’s really pretty frightening.  I heard on the radio that people were getting into physical altercations last night at gas stations. 

So a lot of tv show seasons started back this week, and I’ve been watching a lot of tv, as usual.  And there is one commercial that absolutely drive me crazy.  It makes me angry.  It is a ford commercial with Mark Richt, who is basically a god around here, with a football in his hand, standing next to a big new F-150. 

And the announcer starts talking about how you can get $7500 cash back when you buy a new F-150. 

Okay.  This is ridiculous.  Especially right now.  In the days of a lending crisis, where the disasterous effects of predatory lending are crashing down upon us, it is absolutely unbelievable to me that Ford is still trying to get people to borrow such an absurd sum of money.  $7500 is enough to put the average american worker who lives pay check to pay check into debt for the rest of their lives.  Especially at the ridiculous interest rates associated with car buying.  I am offended when the cashback offer is $2000, but $7500 is just unconscionable. 

So when this person defaults on their car payment, not only will they lose their truck, they will still owe Ford Credit Company at least $10,000.  Or, when three years from now this person wants to trade their truck in for the new version, they will owe money on their trade in.  Oh, and just as a side note, Ford Credit Company makes more money than Ford Motor Company.  How does that make you feel?  Ford is just a big giant credit card company disguised as a car company (although I’m sure that Ford is not the only car company guilty of this). 

And I’m really not trying to imply that the average american is stupid, I’m just trying to highlight that advertising is powerful, especially when you put someone as revered as Mark Richt in the advertisement.  Also, finance is difficult and confusing and the lenders don’t want you to understand it.  They want to lend you money so they can charge you interest.  Which is why every single store in america, from Walmart to Saks Fifth Avenue, asks you if you’d like to save ten percent and open a credit account with them.  Honestly, I have been confused for years about what the commercials meant when they said – $$$ Cash Back.  I could never understand why they would want to give you money to buy something from them.  But now I understand. And it makes me kind of ill. 

On Monday I started my new job, which is exciting and fun.  I'm still getting settled and finding a groove, but I think I'm going to really enjoy it.  I like the people I'm working with and the location and the subject matter and I believe this to be a good start.  I have a new travel coffee mug – it's blue and I love it.  Last night I had my first junior league meeting, which I have to say I was sort of dreading but which was fun and nice, although a little long after a full day of work. 

I'm a reader in a wedding this weekend, which should be fun, I'll get to see some good old friends.  Then next weekend football starts!! Yippee!  I'm so excited. 

Okay, I'm going to go try to learn how to do my new job – hopefully when I get more settled into life I'll be better about keeping you updated. 

I apologize for leaving such a dramatic post up for so long.  I’ve taken the south carolina bar exam, my car has broken down, and I’m trying to recover.  I’m really tired, and I’m in hiding right now.  I have to go to work tomorrow.  Here I go again, being dramatic again. 

I’m actually so relieved.  I thought the bar was ridiculously hard.  Three days was a long time.  I really hope I passed. 

I love television.  Hopefully I’ll have something interesting to say sometime in the near future.  I’m making no promises, but I’ll keep you posted. 

If only there was some place to send the error report.  I’m losing it.  It isn’t just that I’m tired of studying.  I am tired of studying, but if my panic attacks were confined to studying, I would be coping much better.  But the stress of the bar sets off a chain reaction panic where I remember something at work I didn’t do that may end up ruining my life (this is honestly not in the realm of possibility, but that doesn’t change how I feel about it), or I remember something I said at the bar the other night, or how I never picked up that prescription, and how I never took that book on tape back to pilot gas station and how I can’t find a certain pair of pants and maybe I dropped them off at the dry cleaners long ago and never picked them up and now they are lost forever. 

Then I do coordinated things like pinching Briscoe’s fur under my chair (I didn’t know she was sitting DIRECTLY beneath me), and spent two hours feeling HORRIBLY guilty because my dog hates me.  She let out the most pathetic yelp.  To be fair, I don’t think I actually got any skin, but she moved to the other side of the room and chewed on the spot for twenty minutes.  What a drama queen. 

I’ve researched being a federal court translator (I don’t speak another language), getting pet insurance, how much cars cost (I have no intentions of buying a new car), gone through a case that is on appeal that I forgot to do something about on friday (the guy has already exhausted his rights in our court, he just likes to write letters demanding things), finishing the novel I was reading, played quite a few games of free cell, and I check the weather channel compulsively hoping it will rain just to have something interesting happen.  It looks like it is getting cloudy outside.  Maybe I’ll get lucky. 

I also spend a lot of time searching the internet for south carolina bar exam questions. 

Yesterday I watched batman begins in the morning, studied, then went and saw the dark knight with my dad.  It was really good.  I find stories to be such a great escape. 

I’m in my parents cottage, which was inhabited by a renter until about about a month ago, when she got married and moved out.  It has a window unit air conditioner which is blowing on my neck right now and about to drive me nuts. 

And the worst part?  I know what would make me feel better.  I would feel better if I would just focus and get though a lot more material.  All the procrastination just makes me feel worse, but for some reason it is paralyzing. 

Look at that, it is raining.  Yay. I don’t know why that makes me feel better but it does. 

Yesterday, on my way home from work, I stopped at the neighborhood liquor store.  Elizabeth and I had consumed a couple of my mom’s bottles of wine in the past few weeks and I thought it might be nice to at least replace one or two, and maybe buy a bottle for the weekend.  Or some beer.  I hadn’t really decided. I ended up getting wine and beer. 

As I pulled into the parking space, I noticed my 4th grade school teacher in the adjacent spot.  She and her husband are in the same crowd as my parents, and her kids, although not my age, are around my age.  We waived.  Once inside the store, we politely avoided each other as not to crowd the other’s decision making (it isn’t the largest store).

We both ended up at the register at the same time, we spoke, Hey, how are you, good to see you.  She asked me about the shoulder surgery my dad had undergone the day before, she had heard about it the day before at the vet’s office – the vet happens to be my dad’s best friend (his Ireland travel buddy).  We spoke of our dogs, and how we were glad it was the weekend.  One of the town drunks (who was purchasing his own weekend provisions) offered to help her carry her purchases to the car.  She declined. 

I got into my car before she did and I drove off before she got out of the parking spot.  As I pulled out onto the street, I saw my brother pulling into the liquor store.  He lives about two blocks away, and after all, it was 5 o’clock on Friday afternoon.  He made the hand motion of spinning his finger around – the TURN AROUND signal.  So I turned around immediately and was back in the parking lot as my former teacher was pulling out.  She stopped – rolled down her window and said –

LOOK AT THE PAINE CHILDREN -BOTH AT THE LIQUOR STORE!

I said – IMAGINE THAT!

I don’t like horror movies.  I don’t go see them.  I don’t watch the previews for them.  I don’t like being frightened.  I don’t like the graphic images.  They freak me out.  I’ve seen quite a few horror movies, and every one I’ve ever seen is burned in my brain for all eternity.  I don’t mind the stories.  Emily loves horror movies and I like it when she tells me the story.  She is a good story teller and I love stories.  I enjoy hearing the story, it is the mental images in horror movies that I can’t shake.  I read somewhere that men and women process images differently, and really graphic images disturb women much more than men, which is why men are more likely to enjoy shows like the Sopranos (not that women don’t like that show, but women are more likely to be disturbed by it). 

But the weird thing is – I LOVE crime shows.  Like, Love them.  I think I’ve seen every single CSI Las Vegas and 90% of the CSI miami.  I know I’ve seen every NCSI and Numb3rs.  Not to mention the thousands of Law and Orders.  I love the original, SVU, Criminal Intent – I even loved the spin off show Conviction.  I’ve seen every Bones.  I feel like I’m leaving out a show.  I don’t watch CSI new york or cold case.  I watch them on DVD from netflix, I tivo them, and I watch them when they just happen to come on.  Recently I’ve become obsessed with Criminal Minds.  OBSESSED. 

So here is what I find interesting.  Horror movies are not real.  And most of the time the things that happen are not even close to reality.  And they scare me slap silly.

Crime shows?  Crime shows are much closer to the truth.  Not the forensic or legal nature of them, but the stories.  The crimes.  Crimes like that actually happen.  Serial killers are real.  Rapist are real.  Random Acts of violence are REAL.  People kill other people for money and power and sports equipment.  And I can sit up late into the night watching crazy people hack up innocent victims then fall directly to sleep with no residual effect.  And most of these shows are pretty graphic. 

Emily says Drew thinks there is something wrong with her because she loves crime shows.  But that must mean there is obviously something wrong with me too.  Although we both agree, If we weren’t ourselves, we would wish we were.  Hehe. 

On that same note, Jennifer and Emily used to think there was something bad wrong with me because I love depressing music.  They think I’m too upbeat and happy of a person to listen to so much Patty Griffin and Amos Lee and sad county songs.  I find them uplifting.  They are my poets. 

I remember being really upset when I found out that my favorite Susan Tedeschi song was actually a Bob Dylan cover.  Of COURSE it was.  She’s an amazing musician, but Bob Dylan was a poet – and the words are what I really identify with. 

I REALLY hate studying for the bar.  REALLY.  REALLY hate. 

I had a dream last night that I was in a triathlon of sorts – I had to run and bike and kayak.  Random.  And I didn’t train for it.  And right before it started I had to buy a water bottle for the event, and the one I picked out ended up costing $80 – and I almost choked, but I HAD to have the water bottle and I didn’t have time to find a cheaper one and I really loved the one I’d picked out.  It was a gray sigg bottle with a carabiner on the top.  I was very concerned I was going to drown during the kayaking part. 

I also dreamed that I had a party at my parents house where we grilled out hamburgers and fed like 50 people.  It was fun, but I didn’t know a lot of the people very well, and I hadn’t exactly cleared it with my parents that the party was going to be that big, so I was a little nervous. 

But those are just dreams.  The reality is that I’m going to Aspen tomorrow for Allison’s wedding!  I am so excited.  There are lots of people I haven’t seen in a long time that I’m really looking forward to hanging out with. 

Plus I really miss my mountains! 

I read this article the other day by Judith Warner – and it reminded me of some things I’ve been thinking of a lot recently.  Namely, how our friends define us.  Take Jessica for instance.  She’s a great friend of mine, and when we met – we immediately clicked and wanted to hang out all the time.  I definitely had a big crush on her.  We now live in different cities and I don’t see her as much as I would like to – but when another friend says – I hung out with Jessica the other day and I really think she is the funniest person in the world – I take that as a compliment.  Because, well, SHE’S MY FRIEND!  My special friend.  Not that I don’t have other equally as special friends, but Jessica thinks I’M FUNNY.  We laugh at each other!  So if someone else thinks she is hilarious, that means I might be sort of hilarious too.  At least when I’m with her.  In addition to taking it as a compliment, I feel like, wow, I’m special to have such a funny and great person as a friend.  And you know what?  The person who told me they think Jessica is hilarious had no intention of boosting my self esteem.  He was just commenting on a fact. 

And I know this can go the other way as well.  I’ve had friends that I’ve introduced that served as a catalyst for disaster, where one person was definitely in the wrong.  And I’ve felt responsible.  For subjecting the victim to such disaster.  Or the friends who meet randomly and find that I’m the mutual friend, and a strong dislike develops between the two people which has nothing to do with me and I find myself trying to convince both sides that the other isn’t as terrible as they think.  Which is silly, not everyone has to love everyone else.  Or the friend who just ends up not being a friend at all and stabs you in the back.  That friend makes you question your judgment.  Makes you wonder why you didn’t see it, especially if everyone else in your life saw it clearly. 

I think this is also why we take insults to our friends so personally.  I can handle being insulted.  I don’t like it, but I can handle it.  But when someone insults or mistreats one of my special friends, it really ticks me off.  And I see how when I’ve been mistreated, I recover from the slight much quicker than my close friends recover from it. For some reason it is much easier for me to forgive someone for hurting me than for hurting my friend.  I’m not sure exactly how this all relates back to how your friends validate you, but it is just what I have been thinking about lately. 

I hope you all have a spectacular 4th of July – Yay AMERICA!  Let me know if you are going to be in aspen this week!  Wish me luck, it could be a big weekend!  Kisses!