It's emotional eating!
The latest Duncan Hines commercial shows a mom making cupcakes, while the emotion-laded voiceover says, "It's just a rainy day. It's just a scraped knee. It's just hair, it will grow back. But sometimes it's the little things that ruin your day." Pan over to a mopey-looking five-year old, who watches the oven with anticipation. Boy, he is sure is a sad sack. Luckily, eating cupcakes improves your day! If something bad happens, eat a cupcake! Food never rains on your Saturday! Food never trips you on the sidewalk! Food never gives you a lopsided haircut! Food loves you, no matter what!
Duncan Hines. It's not just a cupcake. It's physically and emotionally filling.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
The Countdown Continues, pt 2
Today is not a productive day. I'm not panicking, because I have been very productive lately, but I can already tell that things are just not gelling like they have on other days. I have my last law school Improv show tonight, so tonight will be lost, too. I think I'm just going to call today a wash and not worry about it. Today I'll catch up on some home design shows. Tomorrow I will be back on track.
The Countdown stands at:
62 pages
in 14 days.
The Countdown stands at:
62 pages
in 14 days.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Countdown Continues
Productive day yesterday. Kudos a moi.
We stand at:
66 pages
in 16 days.
Someone asked why it takes so much effort to bang out only 7 or 8 pages a day. Trust me, it just does. It's not like I'm writing fiction, I can't just make this stuff up. Well, not much of it anyway.
The material is dense, and my will is weak. Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes to write one good sentence. On top of that, classes are still in session through the end of this week, so I can't just spend all of my time writing- I still have to read for and attend classes, go to graduation meetings, go to improv rehearsal, put on an improv show, and spend time with my Patto.
Next week we will see how much more I am able to get done without all those pesky classes and meetings getting in my way.
And the week after that I will write "Do Not Disturb" on my forehead and become a hermit until this is just finished.
We stand at:
66 pages
in 16 days.
Someone asked why it takes so much effort to bang out only 7 or 8 pages a day. Trust me, it just does. It's not like I'm writing fiction, I can't just make this stuff up. Well, not much of it anyway.
The material is dense, and my will is weak. Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes to write one good sentence. On top of that, classes are still in session through the end of this week, so I can't just spend all of my time writing- I still have to read for and attend classes, go to graduation meetings, go to improv rehearsal, put on an improv show, and spend time with my Patto.
Next week we will see how much more I am able to get done without all those pesky classes and meetings getting in my way.
And the week after that I will write "Do Not Disturb" on my forehead and become a hermit until this is just finished.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Quick Hits: 4/23/08
1. It is supposed to reach 80 degrees today. Whoo-hooo! Just as I was coming down off my high that Spring had finally arrived in the Great White North (it was hitting about 62 degrees every day for the past week and a half), we have this little nugget of joy! Horay! Makes getting up early and sitting outside while I write feverishly a little more enjoyable. Too bad I have to eventually go inside for class and a power source...
2. Elizabeth Warren, brilliant HLS professor, bankruptcy guru and Goddess of the Socratic Method wears a backpack to school, just like me. I just saw her walk by in her suit and her little north face pack. We bonded. Well, I bonded. But she was there, too.
3. Speaking of my backpack, after almost three faithful years of service, the front zipper to the pencil case area of it completely ripped off. I'm not purchasing a new backpack, so I safety-pinned the pocket closed with 8 jumbo pins. Now I look all grunge and stuff. I think it gives me a much needed "edge" around the pool table. I might even put one through my lip like the kids did back in high school. Ok, I would never do that.
4. The Countdown stands at:
75 pages
in 16.5 days
2. Elizabeth Warren, brilliant HLS professor, bankruptcy guru and Goddess of the Socratic Method wears a backpack to school, just like me. I just saw her walk by in her suit and her little north face pack. We bonded. Well, I bonded. But she was there, too.
3. Speaking of my backpack, after almost three faithful years of service, the front zipper to the pencil case area of it completely ripped off. I'm not purchasing a new backpack, so I safety-pinned the pocket closed with 8 jumbo pins. Now I look all grunge and stuff. I think it gives me a much needed "edge" around the pool table. I might even put one through my lip like the kids did back in high school. Ok, I would never do that.
4. The Countdown stands at:
75 pages
in 16.5 days
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Hark Etiquette
I'm about to graduate, and I would like to pass along some rules of proper Hark Etiquette. This is for the benefit of both the newbies and the blatant offenders who are starting to really annoy me as I spend more and more time studying there. Not to wax on about the good old days, but these Hark violations simply did not occur when I was a 1L. People had respect for each other in the Hark. It's this darn New Class. They are miscreants.
But I digress.
The Rules of Hark Etiquette:
1. If you have more friends to seat at your table than chairs, the proper action is to a) take a chair from an unoccupied table or b) ask a person sitting at a table with an empty chair if you may take it. It is rude to just take a chair from a person's table without asking. And never, EVER take a chair away from a table if a person has "claimed" it but is away from the table temporarily. This kind of chair poaching is rude, sneaky and simply unacceptable.
2. Sometimes during lunch, the Hark is so swamped that every table is occupied. In this case, it is acceptable to approach a table where a person is sitting alone and ask to sit at the table with them while you eat. If they accept, sit and eat. If they are studying (as is usually the case if they are alone at a table during lunch), do NOT try to strike up a conversation. They are sitting alone because they want to work. Be thankful you got a chair and let them work. If possible, eat very quickly and then leave. NEVER invite a friend to sit with you and talk. Remember that you are a guest at this person's table and act accordingly.
3. If a person is eating or studying at a long skinny table in the Hark, it is acceptable to join them at the table and eat or work without first asking their permission. But you must either leave a chair between you or sit at their diagonal. Do not sit right next to them or directly across from them. This invades their space. Remember, they were there first. Do not invite a friend to sit and chat with you at the same table, unless you are at one end of the table and they are at the other. And they are wearing headphones.
4. Do not pull a chair into the path of the pool table if I am playing. Not if you want to keep your fingers, that is. But I digress again.
5. When a long line has formed at the hot lunch station, and you cannot see what the option is from the back of the line, the proper action is to walk up beside the line, and standing at least as far back as the next person in line and no closer than necessary to barely be able to make out the option, lean forward awkwardly to see what is for lunch. Do not walk up close enough that you can just examine the lunch without leaning forward, because people will think you are trying to skip the line. Leaning awkwardly says, "I respect that there is a line and I am not in it. I'm just trying to see the options, and then I will retreat, as evidenced by my awkward forward lean."
These rules will help you win friends and influence enemies in the Hark. And keep you from bearing the wrath of a 3L who has a million pages to write and 2.5 weeks to do it in. Because trust me, she's had it up to here with your shenanigans. And she's about to snap.
But I digress.
The Rules of Hark Etiquette:
1. If you have more friends to seat at your table than chairs, the proper action is to a) take a chair from an unoccupied table or b) ask a person sitting at a table with an empty chair if you may take it. It is rude to just take a chair from a person's table without asking. And never, EVER take a chair away from a table if a person has "claimed" it but is away from the table temporarily. This kind of chair poaching is rude, sneaky and simply unacceptable.
2. Sometimes during lunch, the Hark is so swamped that every table is occupied. In this case, it is acceptable to approach a table where a person is sitting alone and ask to sit at the table with them while you eat. If they accept, sit and eat. If they are studying (as is usually the case if they are alone at a table during lunch), do NOT try to strike up a conversation. They are sitting alone because they want to work. Be thankful you got a chair and let them work. If possible, eat very quickly and then leave. NEVER invite a friend to sit with you and talk. Remember that you are a guest at this person's table and act accordingly.
3. If a person is eating or studying at a long skinny table in the Hark, it is acceptable to join them at the table and eat or work without first asking their permission. But you must either leave a chair between you or sit at their diagonal. Do not sit right next to them or directly across from them. This invades their space. Remember, they were there first. Do not invite a friend to sit and chat with you at the same table, unless you are at one end of the table and they are at the other. And they are wearing headphones.
4. Do not pull a chair into the path of the pool table if I am playing. Not if you want to keep your fingers, that is. But I digress again.
5. When a long line has formed at the hot lunch station, and you cannot see what the option is from the back of the line, the proper action is to walk up beside the line, and standing at least as far back as the next person in line and no closer than necessary to barely be able to make out the option, lean forward awkwardly to see what is for lunch. Do not walk up close enough that you can just examine the lunch without leaning forward, because people will think you are trying to skip the line. Leaning awkwardly says, "I respect that there is a line and I am not in it. I'm just trying to see the options, and then I will retreat, as evidenced by my awkward forward lean."
These rules will help you win friends and influence enemies in the Hark. And keep you from bearing the wrath of a 3L who has a million pages to write and 2.5 weeks to do it in. Because trust me, she's had it up to here with your shenanigans. And she's about to snap.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
(It's the) Final Countdown
Follow along at home, non-super-stressed-out readers!
smc has 19 days
to write 82 pages
spanning 9 topics
smc has 19 days
to write 82 pages
spanning 9 topics
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Oh 3L, where art thou?
Hi friends,
I know some of you have been wondering where I am and why I haven't been posting as often.
Finals.
As in, the Final Finals. Probably the last set of Finals I will ever have. Ever. So they're kinda a big deal right now. I have a TON of work to do and exactly 20 days in which to do it. How much is a ton? Along the lines of 90 double-spaced pages to write.
So that's where I am. Buried under a ton of papers. See you in May!
I know some of you have been wondering where I am and why I haven't been posting as often.
Finals.
As in, the Final Finals. Probably the last set of Finals I will ever have. Ever. So they're kinda a big deal right now. I have a TON of work to do and exactly 20 days in which to do it. How much is a ton? Along the lines of 90 double-spaced pages to write.
So that's where I am. Buried under a ton of papers. See you in May!
Monday, April 14, 2008
The Billiards Bitch
Today I decided to pick up a billiards cue again for the first time in almost a year. I love playing pool. I spent most of my college career playing pool. But law school eats your life, even as a 3L, and I was sorely out of practice. No matter, I was back now. Reunited and it feels so good! I popped in my headphones and got to work.
The billiards table at HLS is upstairs in the Hark, in the same room as a large TV and several groupings of comfy chairs. A couple of guys were sitting close to the table, so I made a mental note to not hit them with the cue, and pushed away the few remaining chairs that might get in my way. And so began my painful struggle to get back on top of my game. I was grumpy about my faded skills. But besides having to squeeze around the two close-sitting guys and occasionally sacrificing shots because to make them I would have to run the cue up their noses, things were generally okay for the first game. When I had to go for a ridiculous shot (or skip one altogether) because the guys were in my way, I reminded myself that they were there first. The game ended and one of the guys left. I went over and pushed his chair away from the table so it would no longer be in the way, and began game 2.
And this is where the trouble really began.
First, as I was playing, a guy walked over with his approximately one year-old son. He held him up to the edge of the table so the baby could see the game. This would be fine, except that he had placed the child right over the pocket I was aiming at, while I was aiming at it. Not only was he and his son staring directly at me, but the little boy kept reaching down towards the pocket. I'm not sure if he could have reached in, but I was really worried I was going to crush his little fingers if I made the shot. I looked up at the father. He smiled pleasantly and jiggled the boy. I couldn't concentrate on the shot at all, as I had a thousand thoughts now swirling through my head. What if the ball popped out of the pocket and hit the baby? What if it crushed his fingers? Why was this guy standing over my shot, anyway? Should I go for the 10 after all? How long is he going to stand there? Am I cutting this too hard?
So I stood up, and changed my shot to go for the side pocket instead. AND THE DAD SLID DOWN SO HE COULD BE LINED UP WITH THIS SHOT, TOO! I decided to just go for it, swirling thoughts and all, and of course, missed terribly. I walked around the table for my next shot, and was standing right next to the dad. I gestured to the shot I wanted, indicating he was in my way. He smiled again and slid over about 6 inches, so that for me to get lined up properly, I would still be standing right on top of him and the baby (whose fingers were covered with ick, I now noticed). I took my shot from where I was, again, missing terribly. I guess I don't thrive under the baby pressure, because I didn't make a shot until he walked away. Then I sunk the next five.
But the trouble didn't end there. Soon after the baby-daddy left, a woman walked over and pulled one of the chairs that I had pushed away over to the table. She set it with her back to the pool table, about 4 feet away. I didn't see her do it since I was looking down at my shot at the time, but sure enough, the next shot would have me lining up right through her. I walked over and stood next to her chair, and held my cue at a high angle so as not to jab her in the back of the head. She jumped up anyway, pushing the chair into me. I turned and looked at her blankly. She stared back with pursed lips, and I decided, no matter how rude it might appear, not to apologize for standing on top of her to play my game. I was there first. She pulled the chair into my path. I hadn't actually hit her, she hit me when she pushed out of her chair. We stood there face to face for a few long seconds. Seeing I was not going to apologize, she huffily picked her things up out of the chair and moved to another one, farther away. I pushed her chair away again and continued playing. But now I felt guilty, and my head got more clouded. Should I have apologized to the lady? Asked her to move before I took the shot? And what was up with that dad? Am I the Billiards Bitch of the Hark?
In the middle of my third game, the guy who had been sitting so close to the table all this time finally got up and walked away. I quickly pushed away his chair and went back to my game. A couple of minutes later, he was back. And staring at his moved chair. And me. Apparently, he had just left for a snack, and had not actually left-left, as I thought. He glared at me and nudged his chair a bit. I took out an earbud. "Sorry, I thought you had left." "No, I just went to get something." "Oh." And then he pushed his chair all the way back to where it originally was, right beside the table.
Ok. Now I am annoyed.
He knows the chair is in my way, he's been watching me play for the last half hour and having to squeeze past him. And it's not like I pushed his chair against a wall or something, I just moved it four more feet away in a giant open room. Could he not sit there and eat his snack? What was it about being three feet from the table that was so important to him? He cannot claim settler's rights anymore, he had gotten up and not left any item to indicate he was returning. The chair was fair game. He had taken his hand off the chess piece, and it was my move. With jaw set, I finished my game, less considerate of his space this time around.
Who knew that getting back into a game I enjoy so much would annoy me so thoroughly? Seems the forces-that-be were conspiring against me today. Perhaps I can squeeze in a game or two tomorrow with better results. Until then, I have decided I don't mind being thought of as the Billiards Bitch. You can't claim surprise when you sit next to a billiards table, so stay out of my way. At least until I've improved my rusty game a bit!
The billiards table at HLS is upstairs in the Hark, in the same room as a large TV and several groupings of comfy chairs. A couple of guys were sitting close to the table, so I made a mental note to not hit them with the cue, and pushed away the few remaining chairs that might get in my way. And so began my painful struggle to get back on top of my game. I was grumpy about my faded skills. But besides having to squeeze around the two close-sitting guys and occasionally sacrificing shots because to make them I would have to run the cue up their noses, things were generally okay for the first game. When I had to go for a ridiculous shot (or skip one altogether) because the guys were in my way, I reminded myself that they were there first. The game ended and one of the guys left. I went over and pushed his chair away from the table so it would no longer be in the way, and began game 2.
And this is where the trouble really began.
First, as I was playing, a guy walked over with his approximately one year-old son. He held him up to the edge of the table so the baby could see the game. This would be fine, except that he had placed the child right over the pocket I was aiming at, while I was aiming at it. Not only was he and his son staring directly at me, but the little boy kept reaching down towards the pocket. I'm not sure if he could have reached in, but I was really worried I was going to crush his little fingers if I made the shot. I looked up at the father. He smiled pleasantly and jiggled the boy. I couldn't concentrate on the shot at all, as I had a thousand thoughts now swirling through my head. What if the ball popped out of the pocket and hit the baby? What if it crushed his fingers? Why was this guy standing over my shot, anyway? Should I go for the 10 after all? How long is he going to stand there? Am I cutting this too hard?
So I stood up, and changed my shot to go for the side pocket instead. AND THE DAD SLID DOWN SO HE COULD BE LINED UP WITH THIS SHOT, TOO! I decided to just go for it, swirling thoughts and all, and of course, missed terribly. I walked around the table for my next shot, and was standing right next to the dad. I gestured to the shot I wanted, indicating he was in my way. He smiled again and slid over about 6 inches, so that for me to get lined up properly, I would still be standing right on top of him and the baby (whose fingers were covered with ick, I now noticed). I took my shot from where I was, again, missing terribly. I guess I don't thrive under the baby pressure, because I didn't make a shot until he walked away. Then I sunk the next five.
But the trouble didn't end there. Soon after the baby-daddy left, a woman walked over and pulled one of the chairs that I had pushed away over to the table. She set it with her back to the pool table, about 4 feet away. I didn't see her do it since I was looking down at my shot at the time, but sure enough, the next shot would have me lining up right through her. I walked over and stood next to her chair, and held my cue at a high angle so as not to jab her in the back of the head. She jumped up anyway, pushing the chair into me. I turned and looked at her blankly. She stared back with pursed lips, and I decided, no matter how rude it might appear, not to apologize for standing on top of her to play my game. I was there first. She pulled the chair into my path. I hadn't actually hit her, she hit me when she pushed out of her chair. We stood there face to face for a few long seconds. Seeing I was not going to apologize, she huffily picked her things up out of the chair and moved to another one, farther away. I pushed her chair away again and continued playing. But now I felt guilty, and my head got more clouded. Should I have apologized to the lady? Asked her to move before I took the shot? And what was up with that dad? Am I the Billiards Bitch of the Hark?
In the middle of my third game, the guy who had been sitting so close to the table all this time finally got up and walked away. I quickly pushed away his chair and went back to my game. A couple of minutes later, he was back. And staring at his moved chair. And me. Apparently, he had just left for a snack, and had not actually left-left, as I thought. He glared at me and nudged his chair a bit. I took out an earbud. "Sorry, I thought you had left." "No, I just went to get something." "Oh." And then he pushed his chair all the way back to where it originally was, right beside the table.
Ok. Now I am annoyed.
He knows the chair is in my way, he's been watching me play for the last half hour and having to squeeze past him. And it's not like I pushed his chair against a wall or something, I just moved it four more feet away in a giant open room. Could he not sit there and eat his snack? What was it about being three feet from the table that was so important to him? He cannot claim settler's rights anymore, he had gotten up and not left any item to indicate he was returning. The chair was fair game. He had taken his hand off the chess piece, and it was my move. With jaw set, I finished my game, less considerate of his space this time around.
Who knew that getting back into a game I enjoy so much would annoy me so thoroughly? Seems the forces-that-be were conspiring against me today. Perhaps I can squeeze in a game or two tomorrow with better results. Until then, I have decided I don't mind being thought of as the Billiards Bitch. You can't claim surprise when you sit next to a billiards table, so stay out of my way. At least until I've improved my rusty game a bit!
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
This makes me happy
I loved this so much when I found it at Ken's that I simply had to have it. And now I do!
Special thanks to el seeeester for helping me out with the difficulty getting this to show up on zee blog.
Monday, April 07, 2008
Five Things Meme
I was tagged by my sis to do this one a while ago, but I'm just now getting to it. But here we go!
The Rules
1. Each player answers the questions about themselves with five things.
2. At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves a comment letting them know they've been tagged and to ask them to play along and to read your blog.
Five things I was doing 10 years ago- 1998:
1. I was about to finish my freshman year of high school.
2. I had locked down a lifetime friendship with Melanie.
3. I was just cut from the Varsity Cheerleading Squad.
4. I was 4'11" and weighed 85 lbs, and prayed every night that I would get taller.
5. I was not dating the boy I had a crush on, or anyone else, for that matter.
Five things on my To-Do list for today:
1. Write 4 pages on a paper
2. Meet Irish for coffee to discuss Parody
3. Go to a Drama Society meeting
4. Send a thank-you note
5. Email Mel and Amanda
Five Snacks I enjoy:
1. Chips and Dip
2. Brownies
3. Mott's applesauce
4. Grapes
5. Cheese Sticks
Five things I would do if I were a Billionaire:
1. Pay off my law school loans
2. Buy an amazing home. And a summer home. And a winter home.
3. Pay off my family's mortgages or any other debt they had.
4. Get a daily massage
5. Travel the world. In First Class.
Five of my bad habits:
1. Biting my nails
2. Gossiping
3. Rolling my eyes
4. Skipping Church
5. Procrastinating
Five Places I have lived:
1. Savannah, Georgia
2. Smyrna, Tennessee
3. Knoxville, Tennessee
4. Somerville (Boston), Massachusetts
5. Chicago, Illinois
Five Jobs I've had:
1. Youth-league Soccer referee
2. Waitress at O'Charley's
3. Resident Assistant
4. Summer Associate Attorney
5. Collections agent for a mortgage company
Five Bloggers I am tagging:
Eh, I'm skipping this one because my sis and Mel already tagged all the blogs I read- or at least the ones that would take my tagging them seriously. So instead, I'll give you a make-up Fiver or two.
Five things I'm good at:
1. Exercising regularly
2. Swimming
3. Accessorizing
4. Managing
5. Keeping a good attitude
Five things I'm really bad at:
1. Basketball
2. Spelling
3. Long-distance Running
4. Whispering
5. Paying attention in class
Okay! There you have it. Let me know if you do one, too, and I'll check it out.
The Rules
1. Each player answers the questions about themselves with five things.
2. At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves a comment letting them know they've been tagged and to ask them to play along and to read your blog.
Five things I was doing 10 years ago- 1998:
1. I was about to finish my freshman year of high school.
2. I had locked down a lifetime friendship with Melanie.
3. I was just cut from the Varsity Cheerleading Squad.
4. I was 4'11" and weighed 85 lbs, and prayed every night that I would get taller.
5. I was not dating the boy I had a crush on, or anyone else, for that matter.
Five things on my To-Do list for today:
1. Write 4 pages on a paper
2. Meet Irish for coffee to discuss Parody
3. Go to a Drama Society meeting
4. Send a thank-you note
5. Email Mel and Amanda
Five Snacks I enjoy:
1. Chips and Dip
2. Brownies
3. Mott's applesauce
4. Grapes
5. Cheese Sticks
Five things I would do if I were a Billionaire:
1. Pay off my law school loans
2. Buy an amazing home. And a summer home. And a winter home.
3. Pay off my family's mortgages or any other debt they had.
4. Get a daily massage
5. Travel the world. In First Class.
Five of my bad habits:
1. Biting my nails
2. Gossiping
3. Rolling my eyes
4. Skipping Church
5. Procrastinating
Five Places I have lived:
1. Savannah, Georgia
2. Smyrna, Tennessee
3. Knoxville, Tennessee
4. Somerville (Boston), Massachusetts
5. Chicago, Illinois
Five Jobs I've had:
1. Youth-league Soccer referee
2. Waitress at O'Charley's
3. Resident Assistant
4. Summer Associate Attorney
5. Collections agent for a mortgage company
Five Bloggers I am tagging:
Eh, I'm skipping this one because my sis and Mel already tagged all the blogs I read- or at least the ones that would take my tagging them seriously. So instead, I'll give you a make-up Fiver or two.
Five things I'm good at:
1. Exercising regularly
2. Swimming
3. Accessorizing
4. Managing
5. Keeping a good attitude
Five things I'm really bad at:
1. Basketball
2. Spelling
3. Long-distance Running
4. Whispering
5. Paying attention in class
Okay! There you have it. Let me know if you do one, too, and I'll check it out.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Soap Opera, smc style?
When my sister tagged me for the Dating Meme and mentioned that I changed boyfriends more than some people changed clothes and thus I had a lot of good stories, I realized she was right. I DO have a lot of good, juicy stories from my dating past. So I been thinking about having a weekly flashback on my dating life, much like Kate does over at walkingkateastrophe.com with her "Soap Opera Sunday." SOS is amazing, by the way. I suggest you read up.
Anyway, I'm trying to think of what to call it and what day to do it on. I'm thinking Wed. Juicy tales of dating ups and downs to get you past hump day. But what to call it? I will think on it, but if you have any suggestions, please leave them in the comments. And keep an eye out for Wednesday.
Anyway, I'm trying to think of what to call it and what day to do it on. I'm thinking Wed. Juicy tales of dating ups and downs to get you past hump day. But what to call it? I will think on it, but if you have any suggestions, please leave them in the comments. And keep an eye out for Wednesday.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
The Lock-out
Today I locked myself out of the house.
I always keep the handle of the front door locked, and usually when I step out to get the mail I just leave the door open a crack and pick the mail up off of the front porch. Then it's back inside to watch my new Netflix! But today I stepped out to get the mail and the wind blew the front door closed behind me and locked the door. So there I stood at 3pm, outside my front door, locked out of the house.
Patrick had already told me that he was working late tonight and would not be home for 4 hours at the earliest. If I was going to get into that house, I was going to have to break in.
I had the following knowledge: All of the windows and doors were closed and locked. Only the handle of the front door was locked (not the dead bolt). The people who own my apartment were not home, and I didn't have my cell phone on me. I had the following tools at my disposal: A pen. A student ID. A Netflix DVD. An Aerosoles catalog. The mailbox key.
I tried wiggling my student ID in there, to no avail. I ripped the clip off of the pen and tried to pick the lock. Then I thought of another method that might work and scrounged through the trash (yes, the trash) to find what I needed. After finding something that might work, I struggled for about half an hour outside my front door. The good news is that I finally did indeed break in. The better news is that it was a LOT harder than I thought.
And no, I'm not going to tell you how I finally did it. But I will tell you that I shouted YES! loud enough for it to echo down the street when that lock popped open. And sent the cats who were listening on the other side of the door scrambling back down the hallway in fear. But I don't care! Because I broke into my own house! All by myself, on my own good idea! YES!
And if law doesn't work out I'm TOTALLY considering a life of crime.
I always keep the handle of the front door locked, and usually when I step out to get the mail I just leave the door open a crack and pick the mail up off of the front porch. Then it's back inside to watch my new Netflix! But today I stepped out to get the mail and the wind blew the front door closed behind me and locked the door. So there I stood at 3pm, outside my front door, locked out of the house.
Patrick had already told me that he was working late tonight and would not be home for 4 hours at the earliest. If I was going to get into that house, I was going to have to break in.
I had the following knowledge: All of the windows and doors were closed and locked. Only the handle of the front door was locked (not the dead bolt). The people who own my apartment were not home, and I didn't have my cell phone on me. I had the following tools at my disposal: A pen. A student ID. A Netflix DVD. An Aerosoles catalog. The mailbox key.
I tried wiggling my student ID in there, to no avail. I ripped the clip off of the pen and tried to pick the lock. Then I thought of another method that might work and scrounged through the trash (yes, the trash) to find what I needed. After finding something that might work, I struggled for about half an hour outside my front door. The good news is that I finally did indeed break in. The better news is that it was a LOT harder than I thought.
And no, I'm not going to tell you how I finally did it. But I will tell you that I shouted YES! loud enough for it to echo down the street when that lock popped open. And sent the cats who were listening on the other side of the door scrambling back down the hallway in fear. But I don't care! Because I broke into my own house! All by myself, on my own good idea! YES!
And if law doesn't work out I'm TOTALLY considering a life of crime.
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