Add some spice to your life.

Just don't do it with cinnamon.

Seriously.

We had poker night last night. Chris made lasagna (with his own sauce; it was awesome). We had spiced apple cider. And near the end of the night, I somehow ended up eating half a stick of cinnamon.

It made me sick.

Don't do it.

On similies and song lyrics.

I listen to the radio. The local pop station.

Perhaps that's my first mistake.

Because a few days ago, I was driving to work. As many of you know, I have a severe affliction that causes me to actually listen to song lyrics. For whatever reason, I wasn't really paying attention that day. It's likely I was thinking of something else, something mindless and silly, like an argument for a motion to suppress, or a series of questions for a killer cross.

And then I heard it. The dulcet tones of American Idol winner Jordin Sparks telling me:

You’re still a part of everything I do.
You’re on my heart just like a tattoo.
Just like a tattoo.
I’ll always have you.

I mean. Really-

I mean-

I-I-I-I-

I'm speechless.

Seriously?

What the fuck is that lyric? (I try not to swear here, but I'm really at a loss on this one.)

I'm going to ignore the fact that the song makes no sense. It was as if someone strung some words together that happened to rhyme. And when the songwriter couldn't come up with a rhyme? Well, nothing rhymes with "you" better than another "you." And the rhyme for "moment"? Surely, "broken" was perfect! Yeah, I'll ignore the lack of meaning and ridiculous rhyming. For now.

But, shit, come on, man. We are now comparing the permanency of love to the permanency of a tattoo? You know, that is damned near poetic. Because when I got my tattoo... well, let's just say it wasn't one of my better moments. I'm a tad regretful now that I'm no longer twenty-one. So I have no issue comparing that stupid mistake to, oh, the love I thought I felt for some ex-boyfriend.

In case you weren't paying attention earlier, let's recap:

Bad radio station.

Jordin Sparks.

You’re on my heart just like a tattoo.
Just like a tattoo.

I don't even have anything to say.

Please put me out of my misery.

Odd side effects.

Chris was here for the weekend. Neither of us felt very well, so we ended up watching lots of TV. Which is how we happened across a commercial for Mirapex, used to treat Restless Legs Syndrome (RLS).

According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders, RLS is characterized by "unpleasant sensations in the legs and an uncontrollable urge to move when at rest in an effort to relieve these feelings." These aforementioned sensations " are often described by people as burning, creeping, tugging, or like insects crawling inside the leg." Also, it is important to note that many folks with RLS have difficulty falling asleep because of the bug-like, creepy-crawly sensations.

Lucky for RLS-sufferers that Mirapex came along. It relieves symptoms of RLS. Awesome!

But wait. There's more.

Mirapex has some unsavory side effects. According to the television advert, Mirapex "may cause you to feel drowsy or fall asleep." Given the fact that those who have RLS experience difficulty falling asleep, this doesn't seem a bad thing, right? Right?

Then we saw the commercial again. And we caught the entire sentence: "Mirapex may cause you to feel drowsy or fall asleep during normal activities such as driving." Um. Falling asleep. During normal activities. Such as driving. Okay then. Still, though, that's not an awful side effect. Right?

But wait. There's more.

If you're on Mirapex, contact your doctor if you "experience increased gambling, sexual, or other intense urges."

Hmmm. So which is worse? The symptoms or RLS or the side effects of the treatment?

A fair and balanced look at Saluti Cahn.

From the tracking of my blog (I feel oh so very technologically advanced!), I have learned that I get quite a few hits from folks searching for information regarding Saluti Cahn.

As always, I will refrain from comment.

I have, however, compiled a list of sites I've found regarding Saluti Cahn.

In the interest of being fair and balanced (much like Fox News), I have included all pertinent information. Please note that the views contained herein do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author or her affiliates.

Saluti Cahn's official website.

Commentary from a former employee regarding SC's health insurance practices.

SC's principal's federal campaign contributions (if party affiliation matters to you).

Enjoy!

Post script, July 22, 2009.

I came back to this post because I noticed a comment had been posted to it. I discovered three broken links on this page. All three were from tripod-based blogs; I was taken to a page that stated that the pages had been deleted due to terms of service violations. Based on what I know of Dean Saluti, I deduce that he had the sites pulled. A Google search for Saluti Cahn proves that Dean has signed up for a gazillion business networking sites, in an effort to push unsavory reviews farther down in the search results.

I have this new finding:

A self-indulgent blog by Dean.

Post Script, February 24, 2010.

So I just discovered Saluti Cahn's "feedback" page. For more on it, check out this post.

New job.

It's official.

I just accepted a new job and gave notice.

Still public defending. Just in a different state.

(And when I say "in a different state," I mean geographically, not metaphysically.)

Dinner.

Tonight for dinner I had ramen noodles and tuna fish.

Why on earth would I eat that?

Well, my boyfriend recently made me stew. I sometimes like stew. I didn't like this stew, and ended up taking two bites and discarding the rest of what I'd ladled out for myself.

The problem for me with stew is the fat on the beef. It's not a health thing, mind you. See, when I eat any sort of red meat that's not in some sort of stew or soup or sauce, I can cut off every single itty-bitty piece of fat. This is a habit I developed at a very young age. While most people find red meat fat rather flavorful, I hate it. Unfortunately, when you get stew beef and don't trim it, it has all sorts of fat. So I tend not to eat it.

What's my problem with beef fat?

It's slimy.

Pickle.

I had a pickle in my lunch today.

It was slimy.

I threw it out.

Slimy stuff.

Apparently, this has been some controversy regarding my opinion that children are slimy. It was a flippant, offhanded comment. But lest y'all are concerned, I would like to take this opportunity to announce that I am of the opinion that there are many things out there that are slimy. I have compiled a list:

Oysters.

Uncooked liver (or chicken or beef, for that matter).

Boogers.

Slugs.

Worms.

The insides of frogs.

The outsides of frogs.

The insides of any living creature.

People who deal in hedge funds.

Unethical attorneys.

In fairness, I don't really like any of the above things. I am non-discriminating in my distaste for slimy things. I am sure that my opinions are not shared by the masses. Just as many folks like children, many folks also enjoy oysters.

So to my friends and readers who may have children (or who may like other slimy things): Rock on. You like kids? Good for you. You like unethical attorneys and boogers? Way to go. I respect your opinions.

Just keep that slime away from me.

On identity theft and bad karma.

Several years ago I was taking Advanced Constitutional Law. During the first class, we had a lengthy conversation regarding identity theft. People were waxing intellectual (as they often do in law school) until I raised my hand and announced:

"I live a pretty boring life. If someone wants my identity, he can have it."

Now, understand that I don't use my debit card. I like float. I charge everything (and I mean everything) and then pay my credit card in full at the end of every month. I hate cash and avoid using it. I don't believe in consumer debt. Creditors hate me, as they never make any money. How do I do this on my trying-do-be-a-do-gooder civil servant salary? Well, I try to live an ascetic life.

Despite the fact that I don't use my debit card (except for ATM withdrawals), a few years after my identity theft proclamation, someone charged $80 at a restaurant in California and $800 at The Children's Place at an outlet mall in a bordering state. I didn't buy children's stuff. I don't even like children. I think they're slimy.

Clearly, it was karma kicking me in the ass. Unlike with credit card companies, regular ol' banks don't like to grant provisional credit. They did not want to put the money back in my checking account. I had to yell and scream and stay on the phone for a very long time, and demand to speak to supervisors before the problem was fixed.

After that was fixed, I lived the good life for another year.

That year ended today.

I checked my credit card transactions online (because I'm just that anal). There was a charge for $9.48 for EST COMPANY; it was made on this past Saturday. I googled this "company." Nothing. I don't really care about the ten bucks all that much; but I don't dig unauthorized credit card use. So I called my credit card company. They canceled the card and are sending out another one. But in order to put the charge in dispute, I had to call the vendor's number (the vendor that's located in Boca Raton; it was a non-Internet purchase, and live nowhere near Florida, much less Boca). The number didn't connect.

So I called the company back and got the credit back. It was only ten bucks, so they didn't require an affidavit from me.

What is this mess?

It's karma. Again. Giving me a swift kick in the ass.

Moral of the story: Don't joke about identity theft. It'll come back to get'cha.

From the journal of a neurotic woman.

I got to work today at 6:55 a.m.

This is not atypical.

What the hell is wrong with me?