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PM Magazine
Sep. 24th, 2019 06:48 pm(So called because the last two afternoons have gone generally better than their mornings....)
Yesterday began with the dog waking me up by upchucking her previous night's dinner all over the bed. It was a quick and seemingly cleansing hork, and she seemed well enough for walkies- and was. Only problem with that was, we twice encountered the Stepford neighbor walking her Golden and terrier- who, after earlier experiences, I've taken to referring to as, well,
On the mere sight of either of her dogs, or ours, letting out the slightest noise or making the closest approach, she barks back at her charges to STAY! and QUIET!, this time even putting her hand over the Golden's mouth. I'm closer and closer to just popping off at her: dogs are social animals. Their leashes are not pretty handbags for you to drape over your wrist. Our dog has never attacked nor been attacked, and I'll take any chances if yours want to, God forbid, PLAY! for a whole half a second.
Will it make her heart grow three sizes that day? I doubt it; you've got to have a functioning organ in there in the first place.
(Of happier dog note: Emily and Cameron have just adopted their first:
A 2-year-old shepherd mix, she spent close to a year in a shelter before they found her. She's on a five-day trial with the kids and (just as important) their cats, and two days in, it seems to be going mostly well. They're going to need to do some training against too much exuberance, but so far so good. They're not fond of the name she came with, and consensus among Furmommies/daddies I polled (including a vet) is that it's fine to change it even at this relatively late date- so stay tuned to see if she finds her way into the theme of some of their current and former bebbies.)
Once safely inside from the sounds of neighing, a reminder on my phone went off, about a useless court appearance in 45 minutes I'd completely forgotten about. Shower, throw clothes on, zoom down there, discover the parking meter app on my phone had completely changed during an update and needed extra feeding, but at least I wasn't having as bad a day as this door, the former entrance to Bankruptcy Court two iterations back and now The Police Headquarters:
Yes, it's the Ambiguity Building at the Historic Dillon Courthouse!
Things got better after that. I received formal word of a decision I'd heard about from the client over the weekend (I won my first, and probably last, appeal of an adverse unemployment decision, yay!), as well as word I wasn't expecting about another case I wound up winning that week by doing little other than shrugging at the judge (shrudging?). I got to write two incredibly snarky letters to opponents- one an asshat of a former landlord of a client, the other a former sort-of boss of me, now representing a circus of a client who is about to be sued by a new client of mine. In just ten minutes of searching, I found his client and his possible partner tagged with tax and judgment liens, the first anti-terrorism lien I've ever seen, and the ever-slightest hint of bigamy.
Even bigger, though? I saw a post last night that two of our favorite folk singers are performing together in Toronto on the evening of October 11th. It's in a club about the size of the Tralf, and I was able to get two of the last available tabled tickets for it. If we make a whole day out of it, Eleanor should be able to make it through, and since it's in Canada, we're gonna try our best, come hell or high-sticking.
----
Today followed a similar pattern. I went downtown to formally file the order in the shrudging case, which took me on my usual route through the three roundabouts just south of my office on Harlem Road. Two are actually one right after another, with a single lane passing round; the third, barely half a mile past those, has two lanes circling the center point. I've loved these alternatives to traffic signals since I first encountered them whilst driving on the wrong side of the road in the UK ages ago. Their speeds are slow but you keep moving as long as nothing is coming; once you're in, you have the right of way; and if you miss your turnoff, you just keep going round till you get it. Unfortunately, these tend to attract two opposite species of brainless drivers: Speedy, who doesn't look where he (usually) is going and doesn't yield to me (usually) already in the thing; and Little Old Lady (usually), who doesn't understand, stops on entry and at each point in the device, and today almost caused my death by cutting from the one lane to the second I was then occupying, as she completed the roundabout onto Harlem itself where it has two lanes to do so.
I survived with no damage except to my blood pressure, and then got back just in time for a client to drop off a document. As many do, though, he did not stop to see me- and thus, I did not get to see that he'd left a signature off until after he was long gone. I was a bit short with him when I called, but eventually blamed it on Little Old Lady (LOL) and we're cool about it. I left a bit early to get some files in storage organized, and am picking Eleanor up shortly to go see the documentary about Linda Ronstadt that just opened here.
Impeachment is coming, the Bills are 3-0, and the dog hasn't expectorated anything since eating. More proof that afternoons are better than mornings:)
Yesterday began with the dog waking me up by upchucking her previous night's dinner all over the bed. It was a quick and seemingly cleansing hork, and she seemed well enough for walkies- and was. Only problem with that was, we twice encountered the Stepford neighbor walking her Golden and terrier- who, after earlier experiences, I've taken to referring to as, well,
On the mere sight of either of her dogs, or ours, letting out the slightest noise or making the closest approach, she barks back at her charges to STAY! and QUIET!, this time even putting her hand over the Golden's mouth. I'm closer and closer to just popping off at her: dogs are social animals. Their leashes are not pretty handbags for you to drape over your wrist. Our dog has never attacked nor been attacked, and I'll take any chances if yours want to, God forbid, PLAY! for a whole half a second.
Will it make her heart grow three sizes that day? I doubt it; you've got to have a functioning organ in there in the first place.
(Of happier dog note: Emily and Cameron have just adopted their first:
A 2-year-old shepherd mix, she spent close to a year in a shelter before they found her. She's on a five-day trial with the kids and (just as important) their cats, and two days in, it seems to be going mostly well. They're going to need to do some training against too much exuberance, but so far so good. They're not fond of the name she came with, and consensus among Furmommies/daddies I polled (including a vet) is that it's fine to change it even at this relatively late date- so stay tuned to see if she finds her way into the theme of some of their current and former bebbies.)
Once safely inside from the sounds of neighing, a reminder on my phone went off, about a useless court appearance in 45 minutes I'd completely forgotten about. Shower, throw clothes on, zoom down there, discover the parking meter app on my phone had completely changed during an update and needed extra feeding, but at least I wasn't having as bad a day as this door, the former entrance to Bankruptcy Court two iterations back and now The Police Headquarters:
Yes, it's the Ambiguity Building at the Historic Dillon Courthouse!
Things got better after that. I received formal word of a decision I'd heard about from the client over the weekend (I won my first, and probably last, appeal of an adverse unemployment decision, yay!), as well as word I wasn't expecting about another case I wound up winning that week by doing little other than shrugging at the judge (shrudging?). I got to write two incredibly snarky letters to opponents- one an asshat of a former landlord of a client, the other a former sort-of boss of me, now representing a circus of a client who is about to be sued by a new client of mine. In just ten minutes of searching, I found his client and his possible partner tagged with tax and judgment liens, the first anti-terrorism lien I've ever seen, and the ever-slightest hint of bigamy.
Even bigger, though? I saw a post last night that two of our favorite folk singers are performing together in Toronto on the evening of October 11th. It's in a club about the size of the Tralf, and I was able to get two of the last available tabled tickets for it. If we make a whole day out of it, Eleanor should be able to make it through, and since it's in Canada, we're gonna try our best, come hell or high-sticking.
----
Today followed a similar pattern. I went downtown to formally file the order in the shrudging case, which took me on my usual route through the three roundabouts just south of my office on Harlem Road. Two are actually one right after another, with a single lane passing round; the third, barely half a mile past those, has two lanes circling the center point. I've loved these alternatives to traffic signals since I first encountered them whilst driving on the wrong side of the road in the UK ages ago. Their speeds are slow but you keep moving as long as nothing is coming; once you're in, you have the right of way; and if you miss your turnoff, you just keep going round till you get it. Unfortunately, these tend to attract two opposite species of brainless drivers: Speedy, who doesn't look where he (usually) is going and doesn't yield to me (usually) already in the thing; and Little Old Lady (usually), who doesn't understand, stops on entry and at each point in the device, and today almost caused my death by cutting from the one lane to the second I was then occupying, as she completed the roundabout onto Harlem itself where it has two lanes to do so.
I survived with no damage except to my blood pressure, and then got back just in time for a client to drop off a document. As many do, though, he did not stop to see me- and thus, I did not get to see that he'd left a signature off until after he was long gone. I was a bit short with him when I called, but eventually blamed it on Little Old Lady (LOL) and we're cool about it. I left a bit early to get some files in storage organized, and am picking Eleanor up shortly to go see the documentary about Linda Ronstadt that just opened here.
Impeachment is coming, the Bills are 3-0, and the dog hasn't expectorated anything since eating. More proof that afternoons are better than mornings:)