Poker in the Turkey Hole

So we all know that I hate CNN.  Unless you are new on this list, in which case, know this:  I hate CNN.  Yet due to the powerful force of habit, or the lack of a better news resource that I can access from my heavily censored work computer, I still check the headlines every morning on  On Monday that sorry rumor rag ran as its top headline: “Deadly Storm Approaching the Northeast Will Prevent You From Traveling Home For Thanksgiving or Seeing Your Family Ever Again!!!”  Needless to say this trumped-up bullshit inspired panic in my mother who thought we should leave Tuesday morning, and drive through the rain, in order to guarantee we would be home with enough time to help all the non-vegetarians prepare turkey.  Apparently everyone else in DC was also watching CNN because we sat in traffic for two additional hours.

But it was totally worth it because it allowed me to have this conversation with my mother:

Mom: I’m not going to put any turkey bits in the stuffing this year so you can eat it.  Me:  oh, cool, thanks.  Are you going to bake it in the oven still?  will there be room?  Mom:  it’s a 20 lb turkey, there is plenty of room inside it for all the stuffing.  Me: Mom, you have to put it in a separate baking dish.  It’s not vegetarian if it’s stuffed inside meat.  Mom:  it’s not stuffing unless it’s stuffed inside something.  Now it’s not good enough for you for food to be meat free, it also has to be a meat virgin?  It’s like feeding the craken…

But I digress.  The moral of the story is that I’m in New Jersey and not around to host poker, and my guess is that many others may be out of town or hosting family at this point.  Which makes the importance of a timely and accurate RSVP all the more important for Neal and Jen, our gracious hosts this evening.  In case you don’t recall from last week, they live at [——-] in Columbia Heights.  They would like to see people showing up around 8pm.  My understanding it that they have fun backup plans for anyone interested in socializing, even if there is not sufficient poker quorum.  So don’t be shy!

And for tomorrow, whether you are traveling to your hometown for a big family gathering, or enjoying a quiet dinner on your own terms, take a moment to fully savor the one meal a year where we Americans stop thinking about what we want, and focus instead on being happy about what we already have.

Doorbuster sales start at 8pm Thanksgiving Day.


Panic Room Poker

There are a bunch of new people on this list, so let me open by saying welcome to  getting an email every Wednesday from a crazy person.  The emails tend to be pretty formulaic.  I start out by rambling or ranting about some asinine thing that I did or I saw on the news.  I then gracefully transition into communicating logistical information about this week’s Federal Circuit Clerk Poker Game, such as where and when the importance of a timely and accurate RSVP.  There is often a running mockery of Dolin or Goodman, but I will take it easy on the inside jokes this time.

Ok, here comes the ramble part:  I am “working” from home today because I am waiting for the locks to be replaced on my door.  I notice last week that the key to my front door bars was missing from the communal set of house keys that we keep in the foyer.  I assumed someone was using it or had temporarily misplaced theirs and I replaced the key with a spare.  Then yesterday, I noticed that same key was missing from the key ring again. It was there the night before, but now it is gone.  All the other keys were still there, just the front door gate key was missing.  All of the inhabitants of my house were in the living room at that moment, so I told everyone the disappearing key story and asked for an explanation.  No one had one.  No one took either key.

Needless to say I was creeped out to the max and need to get the locks changed.  But I don’t want to leave the house unsecured in case someone with two stolen copies of the same key intends to intrude and steal my… TV?  I don’t know.  My house doesn’t really have nice things.  So here I sit, armed with a cell phone and a kitchen knife.  Guarding my fortress.  Learning how fantastically unproductive I can be when I have access to reddit during the workday and when every odd creak and shudder of my circa 1890 house is misinterpreted as the arrival of a maleficent vagrant.  I’m pretty sure there is a fire demon that lives in my furnace and plays the drums and is practicing diligently to audition for Chief Rader’s band.

Completely unrelatedly, (that was the graceful transition) poker will be hosted tonight by the very lovely Neal and Jen.  They live at [———-] in Columbia Heights, next to [——].  You should arrive at their house at 8pm, armed with at least $10 and a bottle of some adult beverage.  If you are new to poker, this would be a great one to get your feet wet as the regulars tend to be better behaved for the classier hosts.  You can still RSVP to me.

Ta daa!  This happens every week.

Seafeud Poker

There are several things that every minimally competent attorney knows that you should not do immediately prior to an oral argument.  For example, you should not try cocaine for the first time the night before an oral argument.  You don’t have to be Don Dunner to grasp that concept.  You also should not schedule major cosmetic surgery the day before an oral argument.  Pretty basic stuff.

Now I may have never had cosmetic surgery or done cocaine, but I still manage to do things that any minimally competent attorney would not do right before speaking for the first time to a panel of article three judges.

For example.  Let’s say, hypothetically, yesterday was Goodman’s birthday.  And let’s say, hypothetically, he wanted to drink cobra venom for his birthday.  Now regardless of whether this is a good idea in the first place, would you make your first culinary exploration into poisonous snake excretions the day before an oral argument?  That is essentially what I did.

Goodman wanted to go to a seafood restaurant for his birthday.  I am a vegetarian, and I do not eat animals, terrestrial or aquatic.  But we were there, and it was a special occasion, and I reasoned with myself that clams and scallops are invertebrates, they don’t have heads, or faces, or even brains of any kind.  They are barely animals.  So just this once I don’t have to be “that girl” who orders scallops on a bed of mashed potatoes without the scallops.  For $45.

Following my mollusk madness I discovered that just because I convince my brain that I can eat something does not mean I have convinced my body that I can digest said something.  Especially where said something is a truckload of cheap shellfish that my vegetarian gut does not even recognize as food.  At first I thought maybe my intestinal distress was just pre-argument jitters wreaking havoc on my system.  During riding that evening I actually had to stop my horse, dismount, and run up to the barn bathroom.  At least it was a barn.  Barns always smell like shit.  As my symptoms progressed to more closely resembling food poisoning, I realized that I might not make it through 15 minutes of oral argument with nothing but clenched pilates-toned butt cheeks between me and Armageddon.

Thankfully, my super-fast metabolism managed to complete resolution of the problem by about 9 this morning, and I made it through what turned out to be almost an hour of argument with no emergencies.  Perhaps I should celebrate with some meat…dipped in cobra venom…

So anyway, poker.  Yes it is happening.  It happens at 8pm.  It happens at [——-].  Bring a ton of booze.  I have been drinking since 11 AM, so I’m waaaaay ahead of you.  RSVP.

Oh, and for all you in-house counsel on this listserv, I am totally a competent attorney.  Like, for serious.