There is a reason people don't leave California.

It is Christmas Eve, and today I went for my run, I ran barefoot on the beach, in shorts and a t-shirt. Just when the craziness of the holidays, and being home was starting to get to me I remembered how amazing it is that I actually live in a place as fabulous as the Monterey Bay. I hope I can hold on to how blessed I am to be home.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Okay so I kinda love exams...

Well only sorta...

First off I know that this puts me at odds with most of the world.

And it doesn't mean that if, given the choice to not have to take them or not have them count for a grade I wouldn't jump at the chance.

What I mean is, accepting the reality that this is something I have to do I will accept it and see the good in them:
I like the idea that I have four hours to sit down and prove myself. It is kind of exciting, like I am in some sort of epic, albeit nerdy, battle with my professors where I have to save my self from a death of drowning in debt or sodium poisoning from over consumption of ramen. Okay, so it isn't really all that epic but the idea of sitting down and proving yourself does have a certain appeal.
The other thing I like is that they bring with them this weird other worldliness where you are both EXTREMELY crazy busy and stressed and at the same time have no plans and quite a bit of freedom. I loved winter exams at Cal especially, because there was a general sense of batting down the hatches and all focusing together; everything would get really quiet. You would walk by a frat house on a Friday night coming back from the library and it would be silent.
Law school it is a little different, in part because I am no longer surrounded by students, and Grace could care less, she just cares that we aren't giving her nearly the level of attention she expects for when we are at home. Honnestly at one point I was sure out lack of attention had "broken the dog," when I was cooking eggs and bacon and she stayed looking sad on the guest bed. (Don't worry she recovered.) Also because my roommate and I are both stress eaters, this time involves a lot of supplemental baking, I am pretty sure the peanut butter cookies are what revived Grace. In all it has been a good thing for our relationship as roommates (which is not always the case with exams.) We both take the same approach to exams: getting through what we can and trying to preserve sanity, trying not to deviate into extreme behavior (of either the distraction or focus type.) We spent the better part of an hour laughing over our favorite blogs.* It is one of my best memories for the semester even if it did give me another thing to waste my time with.

Grace "helping" bake cookies

All and all it is kind of nice. You don't have many times in your life where a period of time is set aside so that you can organize your life and get your head sorted out. Which is really what I try to think of this as. Because the alternative, three weeks where you do everything you can to keep yourself from becoming a smarmy plaintiffs lawyer who gets shot by a deranged client, after alienating everyone in your life close to you, is just too depressing to think about. (True albeit slightly altered story.)

*(The impetus of this being the author of my favorite blog writing to tell me that she liked the title of my blog. Insert obnoxious fan girl squeeing. -If you don't know what this sound is ask a thirteen year old about Justin Beiber or Edward Cullen. If you do not know who these people are you are a better person than me and obviously have a fulfilling life)  

Festive Winter Time...

I am feeling the holiday spirit. Notice the tree...

...and the advent calender,

Our tree was a gift from my dad, and while it might verge on being a "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree" I kinda love it. It currently has a Santa Clause, a Cinderella, a Package, a Cloisonne bell my mom brought me from china, a Dog that looks like Grace, a San Francisco skyline, and the ever ubiquitous pickle ornament on it. It is sparse but pretty good considering. It makes the house feel festive, like maybe we care about more than exams. Plus it is kind perfect in all of its sad quirkiness.      

In related festive news it snowed! Okay it was only a comically small amount, but it was enough to quiet the world as I ran. I told my self I didn't have to run on days it was snowing, because I am notoriously uncoordinated. But it was light and beautiful and had yet to make the roads icy. So I went out and let my self enjoy the winter. 

See snow, sorta...
it counts if you grew up on the beach

I have actually discovered that I like the winter, with a few all important caveats: I must be able to wear warm dry clothes when I get inside and I must have a good coat. Also I enjoy it a lot more when there aren't "winter sport people" to push me down hills. And who say things like "it isn't that hard" and "oh it is only a double black diamond called 'a devils death" and "oh wasn't Kate's face funny when she ran into the snow patrol." Haha... like I said I enjoy winter, but that doesn't make it easy for those of us who have difficulty staying on two feet.

This is what happens when you go into Whole Foods hungry and depressed...

You come out with twenty dollars worth of chocolate and cheese, and you eat half a loaf of bread before you get home...

My roommate and I frequently eat dinner together. Often it is a sort of "graze-y" meal where we are trying to clear out the fridge. One of our favorite things, (and the meal we brought to the rally to Restore Sanity) is simple sandwiches, just sliced tomatoes on good quality bread with fresh mozzarella, melted. They are supper good, because we use really good ingredients. Anyway our bread from the last week hadn't been refrigerated (my bad) so I volunteered to pick up a new loaf from the Whole Foods that is next to metro. Bad idea, not only was I hungry because it had been a long day, but more importantly I was overwhelmed by a slough of bad information and the pressure of impending finals. As anyone who knows me knows, I deal with stress and sadness by eating and shopping (not necessarily at the same time- not that I would say no), preferably for luxury goods and rich foods (not a good thing for someone who is living on government loans.) So Whole Foods for me is like a crack den for a junkie, lets just say the results were tasty but not good for my wallet. I left excited about my meal but wondering how I had managed to do so much damage and only come out with a single bag? So now I have the existing stress and sadness coupled with guilt over my inability to restrain myself.

What do I do?

I eat half the baguette I bought on the way home.
 (Technically an arrest-able offence on DC metro.)

Also, on a somewhat side note, I find it a little depressing that the cookies that are advertised as "chocolate chewies" are actually crunchie cookies. In the box they look deceptively like my grandmother's "chocolate gooey cookies" but no they are actually crunchy. (The law student in me thinks that this is a breach of the contract they formed. Wait you say, they were just poorly advertised, there wasn't any contract- I say oh no. Quick law school 101 moment: there are three elements for a contract to be formed: Offer, Acceptance and Consideration. Whole foods offered to contract for chewy cookies, (this was a unilateral contract which I could only accept through performance) I accepted when I gave consideration for in the form of money. The offer was for chewy cookies and that was not delivered therefore I am entitled to restitution damages, but only if I want to go through the trouble of taking them back, and I am not sure if I am motivated enough to do that.) The rhetor in me says, why not call them that Chocolate Crunchies- It is still an alliteration, and then they wouldn't be lying. Honestly though none of it matters because I left them on the dining room table and Grace jumped up and ate the whole box, mostly I am relived that I didn't kill my roommate's dog.

The Coast Guard is dropping SPAM. (It is not good as my Aunt's turkey)

OR

The time the rest of the country calls the holidays and Law Students call exams.

My trip to my aunt's for Thanksgiving was lovely. I was able to leave a day earlier than planned because my contracts class was canceled and Amtrak is amazing. (Another reason to love train travel, it only cost me $3 to rebook my ticket, it never ceases to amaze me how much more civilized train travel is, even during a delay in Philly everyone was okay, there was so much less stress and upset then when I fly.)
My break was just the respite I needed from the insanity this part of the school year brings with it. I was able to go for a couple of nice walks, eat WAY too much tasty food, catch up on sleep, and generally bum around getting my head ready for the insanity that descended as soon as I got back to school. I even caught up on the last of my readings (for the whole semester)! I didn't think that was going to happen.
Should I have, in all honesty, probably come home early to miss the craziness of traveling the Sunday after Thanksgiving and work more on my outlines, which are woefully unfinished. Well, the insane 1L in me says yes, and I should have been working the whole time. But mostly my philosophy is that the insanity doesn't really help anyone and that calm focus is such a better way to go about things. This is not how most 1L's feel. Most of my classmates seem to be surviving on coffee and anxiety alone. Even at Cal, where there was a fair amount of exam anxiety, I never saw anything like I see from my classmates now.
It is hard to explain exactly what it is like using anything but a long silly over extended metaphor. It feels like we are all on a boat together an I am aware that everything is fine. We are floating along and everyone needs to keep doing their jobs and there won't be a problem. But then about half of my ship[class]mates are running around screaming that we are sinking. They are running around, screaming, jumping into life boats (and leaving the safety of the boat for the dangers of an open ocean in a dingy.)
Mostly I am fine, I can see the insanity of only getting three hours of sleep a night, or committing a case book to memory, or completely cutting myself off from the rest of the world. But there comes a point when everyone around you is screaming and yelling and a little irrational voice in the back of your head starts saying, wait what was that, are we sinking? I know that it is irrational but you can only block out so much of the crazy. And it is nearly impossible to convince people that we are on the Love Boat and not the Titanic. (Okay well maybe not the Love Boat, although with the amount of inter-classmate dating it is getting there. I guess it is more like that Carnival cruise that was adrift for a week. Yes its stressful and the generators and water system have failed, but the Coast Guard is dropping spam and we will get through this.)
The level of stress and crazy running back and fourth wares on you, and you wonder when we are going to push piggy off a cliff. Which, is why I will leave a room when people are spinning themselves into a frenzy, and why I have committed myself to going for a run every day that I don't have class. (Dead week starts tomorrow so it is most days for the next three weeks.) Because when I am working out everything else falls away, I am not a 1L preping for my first exams, my mom isn't sick, I am not going back home to negoitate the tightrope of my childhood-self and friends with the person I am becoming; there is just music and breathing and (probably way too much) burring of muscles. (It is my Coast Guard SPAM- if you will allow me to take it too far.)
Talking to people about this time of year I get so excited for the future, when holiday stress won't have anything to do with outlining or exams,  because December will be just another stressful month at work and it will just be the added stress of parties and presents and decorations. Then I realized that it is sad that I am excited for the stress other people dread. It is hard to believe after a lifetime being in school before the holidays that I only have this one and then two more, then I get to be a grown up. (I guess?)

Anyway that was a rambling post which is probably pretty indicative of where my head is.

 Now onto studying!

Little Women

It's been a tough week for my mom and with her my whole family. This news has really gotten me thinking about how important our relationship is. The more I think about it the more I realize the legacy of women in my life. My family is full of mythical women, not that they were not real but just that at some point their impact became bigger than themselves. Thinking back on the people and stories that shaped me it was almost always the women in my life. (With the obvious huge exception of my father.) 

One of the common tropes in our culture is how poorly women treat each other. There are more books about mean girls and cruel sorority sisters than anyone could read in a lifetime. Looking at the cultural artifacts of modern times you see instance after instance of women treating each other terribly, really all reality TV is women putting each other down for publicity. It makes me ill to watch for two reasons. The first, if women want to be held on an equal plain as men we need to take cues from them in how they treat one another, and it certainly isn't pulling one another down. I think it is so important for women to be there for each other, especially the young girls who are learning from us. The second, more personal reason, is I would like culture to reflect my experience, I was raised by a tribe of amazing women each of whom have blessed me with amazing gifts. I wish that this was more women's experience, and that it was what was expected of us. Of course if the standard we are held up to is cruel and degrading that will be what young girls learn, and the experience won't change.

There are so many women who have gotten me where I am: 

The grandmother who taught me that it was okay to be smart and that we each have struggles to deal with.

The grandmother who wished positivity for me and pushed me to be happy, who loved life and taught me to make a mean pie and showed me what it meant to love deeply. 

The aunt who nurtured my creative side. 

The aunt who let me know it was okay to want what I want. 

The aunt who is understanding and honest and has more answers about my crazy weird family than I could hope for.    

The nanny who became a sister and friend, a trusted confidant, with true perspective.

The cousin who always made me feel cool.

The cousin who was there as a big sister and fellow chocolate addict. 

The friend who forced me to have some fun in high school.

The friend whose steady friendship is fiercely dependable.

The friend who is much to understanding of how lazy I am, how much I love junk food and my love of inappropriate conversations. 

My sister who reminds me that there is so much light and beauty in the world, who is much too kind and the only other person on the planet who really gets my parents. 

Most importantly my mom, I try to remember how lucky I am to have such a wonderful relationship with my mom. Who lets me know it is okay to cry and that she is always on my side, a dependable safety net to use as I need. I don't know how she is able to keep the crazy mis-formed pieces of our family together, to create order in the chaotic universe of our lives. She is somehow always only a phone call away, and even more astonishing she can reach through the phone and span a continent with her words. I can't believe her kindness and generosity, the way she willingly sacrifices herself for the rest of us. I hope I don't forget how lucky I am and that I never have to try to fill her shoes.    

Love you mom

   

On a side note I did not want to title this post "Little Women," it was the first thing that came to my mind, but I immediately thought, no I can think of something better than that. So I racked my brain and searched online and you know what I discovered, there just aren't many books about women's relationships. I thought about Jane Austen, but really her books are about finding husbands in the company of your sisters. And then I thought of Amy Tan and Toni Morrison but those are as much about poverty and the minority experience, which really wasn't what I was going for either. (Plus neither have written a book that I would read of my own free will, sorry if that is literary blasphemy.)  According to fiction it seems that a measure of success for women (at least white privileged women) is never forming strong enough bonds with other women that you can't leave them behind. In most novels (even good ones) female protagonists are either finding men or hating their mothers (or both). I think that we can blame Disney and Shakespeare for this.   

By now I have probably lost any added sanity...

So two Saturdays ago I went to the Rally to Restore Sanity [and/or Fear]. It is honestly shameful that it has taken me this long to post about it. 

Anyway it was amazing...

First of all yay for great weather and roommate bonding. We were able to pack a picnic and enjoy the last truly warm day we will see for a while.

Crazy crowded metro,
so crowded the photo doesn't look that crowded

Metro somehow didn't get the message that thousands of people were going to be flooding the mall and were running trains on the usual weekend schedule. Thankfully our combined brilliance meant we were smart enough to ride to the end of the line and actually had seats and were able to get to the rally in time to hear the bands.  

You can kinda see Jon Stewart

The crowd was packed up to 7th street
and from the Capital to the
Washington Monument

We did get to hear the music, but as for the rest of it you had a better view watching from home. The crowds were insane. (To quote a comedian "twice as many people as the Glen Beck rally but weighing in the same.") I imagine my memories will be something like the memories people who were actually at woodstock have (minus the drug induced haze- I had homework to do that evening.) It wasn't so much about the rally as about the collective conscious of the people there. It was too crowded to see or hear much. We actually watched it when we got home so we would know what happened.Talking to people, reading the signs and just being out of the house  was more than worth the time. It is a hard thing to describe what it was like or even why I felt so strongly about going.
As an educated city person I find it incredibly offensive when someone suggests that people who see nuance or live in big cities are not American. While I understand the Capra-esque vision of America that implicates small towns it is the diversity in this country that makes me love it.  In my experience it is the people who haven't seen much of the world or had their views challenged who defend their views most strongly; and they tend to do it by shouting. I guess this  is why I went. It felt patriotic to practice my right to peaceably assemble with other people who don't think screaming at each other was is the way to get things done. I guess I was defending my America, the one that is number one for me, most of whose dysfunctions were predicted (and enabled) by the founders and that has some of the best people who will hopefully get us out of whatever messes we find ourselves in.

Also I went for the funny signs and chance to wear a shirt with a quippy saying.

Pretty sure fox is afraid...

A real tea party 

   

While most of the people at the rally had views which lined up with mine, not all of them did, what joined people was a common interest in discussion. After looking at political issues for much too long I realize how blinded we all are by dogma. It was wonderful to see people come together for reason and discussion. I am not sure if I came away with much more than being a part of a cultural moment; but I was glad to be a part of it. 

Me missing what tea parties used to be...

Sometimes someone makes you remember...

A pretty good day. Mostly because someone did something for me that really made me feel like everything is going to be okay, an restored my faith in the people around me. Its nice to know that people look out for each other. So thank you.

At least they have a world series...

Well the California elections weren't a disheartening as the rest of the country. For the first time in years I didn't sit by the TV watching results come in. I worked instead. I am a little disappointed about our new presumed speaker (mostly because of disappointing personal interactions when I worked on the hill.)

 Pelosi may not be Speaker for much longer but at least she has a home town championship.  

Barbra Boxer and Nancy Pelosi at a Giants Game

Hopefully they feel like Gavin Newsom, who when asked about the election responded saying, "Nobody here cares about that, this [referring to the Giants win] puts it all in perspective." 

How the Giants won me a beer, and the World Series

I had a difficult time deciding what to call this post. I thought about referencing masochism again, something about how much joy torture can bring at the end, but I thought that was going a bit far. 

I thought more seriously about referencing the Journey song "Lights." And the line, "So you say your lonely, well I am lonely too. And I want to go home to my city by the bay." Because tonight I am as homesick as I have ever been, being in the midst of what my mentor called the most isolating experience she has ever been through, was nothing compared to this evening. And I wish deeply to be back in my City by the Bay. 

I actually sat an watched the Giant's game this evening. I didn't believe that the Giant's would be able to win until there was one strike left. The whole bottom of the ninth I was screaming at the announcers who acted like game was won already. This is a team that exemplifies the idea that it isn't over till the fat lady sings. They were in a similar situation the last time they were in the series and were able to loose it. Acts of God have interrupted their World Series. Cautious optimism is the name of the game. Then Wilson threw the last pitch and the Giants won.

I  immediately started crying. I was so terribly happy. It was the culmination of years of sitting being tortured by Giant's baseball. And I am so glad that it was this team of freaks and miss-fits that was able to do it. Because the Giants are a team of the underdog. This was the way the win was supposed to go, for a team not a star. The cold nights at candlestick, the hot days in the bleachers, the painful losses, seeing Buster Posey hit a home run in his first game in the majors, the Barry Bonds home runs, my grandfather teaching me to keep score, my teen-aged crush on J.T. Snow, my childhood idolization of Glen Ellen Hill because he grew up in my home town and shared my birthday. It is more than what it means to me, it is what it means to my family, an most especially my dad.

I wouldn't love baseball if it wasn't for my dad. His willingness to bribe me with hot chocolate if it was cold and ice cream if it was hot, because "we aren't dodgers fans, and we stay till the end of the game." His ability to sit through games with wining kids, although I am sure the headphones with Kruke and Kype on the radio helped.  His utter devotion to a team that seemed to always let him down. The Giants won their last world series three weeks before my dad was born . (It was the third longest streak behind the Cubs and the Indians if you are keeping track. I used to joke that he was the Giants' curse, and they would win the series again three weeks after he pasted away.) He was born before Major League Baseball came west of the Mississippi and has a couple hazy memories of the when the Seals played in San Fransisco. This means he picked his team and his league, and while the rest of his family has hazy alliances to the American League and the Oakland A's, my dad is nothing if not a Giants fan. He taught me from a young age why the designated hitter rule was an abomination and that the only prejudice you are allowed to express openly is against Dodger's (and then it is best done in a loud voice.) His stories of being a young fan are the stuff of Americana.

This win was a big moment for my childhood self and the part of me that is truly my father's daughter. And I couldn't share it with my family. There wasn't anyone around I could hug, who got it. Who knows what an accomplishment it was to get a Croix De Candlestick or the nausea that comes when you discuss 2002 and Ortiz. I was alone in my joy and sometimes that is even harder than being alone in sadness
.
So I cried, big smiling wet tears for my team and my family. When it came time to pay my bill my weighter turned to me and said "your beer is on me. You totally made my night. I am a Red Socks fan so I get it." Maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought I was, but I was still outside of my city missing my people.
Really I just looking for someone to be able to do this with:

Carlos Avila Gonzalez / San Francisco Chronicle

Because that is how I felt.

So thanks dad for spending every summer and a small fortune giving me a passion for baseball and a tolerance for torture. You can let mom know it was worth it. 

(And I promise I will post on this weekend, but it probably will be about this time next week)

The version of me born in 1948 is so jealous...

I promise I will get to the rally and Halloween (as soon as I get the photos off my camera), but first . . . Patti Boyd.
One of my friends was looking at my iPod and as a result of my tastes being very hip for someone in the 1970's recommended Patti Boyd's biography to me. I don't know if I am going to be able to finish it. Not that it isn't an amazing story. It is just to frustrating to read, it is making me simultaneously jealous and disheartened.
For anyone who doesn't know Patti Boyd is the ex-wife of George Harrison and Eric Clapton. She is the inspiration for among other songs: Layla, Bell Bottom Blues, Something oh and Wonderful tonight.
Layla- the song I love so much it was my vote for my best friend to name her daughter, and the name she ultimately chose.
Bell Bottom Blues- My favorite modern blues song, my favorite Clapton song.
Something- The song Rolling Stone called it the most romantic song ever written.
And of course Wonderful Tonight- Only one of my top five songs (it is in a separate category from my favorites stratified by artist, because I don't think it exemplifies Clapton's style or playing the way most do.) Also what I would consider to be the most romantic song ever written. It is a song I often use to exemplify what women want, it is to be made to feel like that, to be seen the way she is seen in that song. That the man we are with sees us as more beautiful than we think we are, needs us more than we can see and loves us more than we know. (And by the way it was written as they were getting ready to go to Paul and Linda McCartney's Buddy Holly party.)
I really don't feel like this is fair at all, what I wouldn't give for just one amazing love song to be written about me, and she has at least a half dozen.Then the worst part is as you read you get all the horrible rock and roll wife stories that taint the way I see these songs.
Honestly I am waiting to find out that Beast of Burden (what I consider to be the sexiest song ever written) was inspired by a sub-par one night stand with Keith Richards and I will really throw the book down.

It's going to be okay...

One of the buildings on Berkeley's campus, in addition to being maze-like was famous for its bathroom graffiti. Most of the year it would vary from funny to dirty, with lots of complaining and many of the jokes that we have all seen. People would post their thoughts and others would respond. But then some time around finals a single message in a distinctive hand writing would go up all over the stalls in the hall:

Its going to be okay...

I remember before my first final at Cal (History 5 with professor Lacquor, I still remember) running to the bathroom, to be sure I wouldn't have to during the exam, and there was this message. And what was most amazing; in a past time that was as much about snarky remarks belittling the author, the responses showed how venerable and overwhelmed we all were. "Thank you" "this means a lot" "that actually really helps" "I hope you are right," were all scrawled next to it. I carried that with me as often as I could and always looked forward to when the graffiti would appear each December and May.   

Fast forward four years and I hear about operation beautiful, a group that places messages on post-it in womens bathrooms that are inspirational, and uplifting. While they are more focused on young women's body image issues, it reminded me of the finals message on Berkeley's stalls and what unexpected positive messages can do. 

So in a tribute to my Berkeley roots and the desire to put some positivity in the world I have Co-opted my own little project. I have taken the free (or as my mother would say included because you know at $46,000 a year I am paying for them) Post-its they leave for us in the library and posting positive messages in the womens bathrooms. Some are taken from operation beautiful, and I use "its going to be okay" frequently but I am sure I will think of new things. This isn't nearly as hip as the Berkeley bathroom graffiti but I am on the East Coast and I doubt school would appreciate its impeccably clean bathrooms being sullied even by positive words. 

Hopefully I will brighten someone's day. 

Hey I got an A on that History final.   

 

One more week...

So dip girl leaves for Cambodia on Saturday. So in between freaking out and trying to get another brief written, I am trying to pack in as much fun with her as possible. Saturday was wonderful, well other than the epic loss by the my Cal bears. (We had to leave sign of the whale early because it was so miserable, but hey at least the bar did free drinks for the first quarter so it wasn't a total loss. And we all know how much faith I have in my bay area teams.) After the game Dip Girl got to meet Hotlanta- we went out to a farm in Virgina where they had a haunted corn maze, spooky hay ride and many other frightful activities. It was amazing. Each of us had our moments screaming like a girl. Including Hotlanta who after a particularly girlish scream said "what does it look like I was a line-backer in high school?" Which was far and away the quote of the night. It was more fun than the haunted houses I would go to back home with my friends, and Dip Girl and I decided that this was because in California there are a surplus of out of work actors who play monsters and take their jobs way to seriously. The high schoolers who staffed this didn't have quite the same drive. We also bought pumpkins and apples and apple cider. (The cider is currently frozen for Halloween when it will be heated and made into some sort of yummy cocktail!)
Sunday we went to brunch at Cafe Belga which has been Dip Girl and my favorite place for brunch since we lived on the hill a few summers ago. It is more of a trek now so we don't get out there as much but Dip Girl figured there won't be much good Belgium food in Cambodia. We stuffed ourselves on mussels, french fries and waffles and then had to be rolled out of the restaurant we were so full.
Then yesterday was the amazing meal of mole and margaritas (I really don't think there is anything better). Once again we ate so much we had to be rolled out of the restaurant, and enjoyed the crisp walk to metro. (Not the ride so much)
Tonight I am laying claim to all the food she couldn't finish before she left.
Tomorrow I am dragging her out dancing.
Friday the movers come to pack away her stuff, and I am joining her so that it is less weird. (When the US government moves you their movers have to box everything for you so they know you aren't taking anything illegal or just that you aren't supposed to move on government money, but you have to watch them so that packing is done how you want, it is very strange and slightly awkward.)
Then Saturday bright and early she leaves and I start getting ready for exams!

Why did I wear jeans? Jeans have no give!

Dip girl is leaving in less than a week and because of this we are filling the week up. (More on that when I have a moment.) But tonight we went out to an amazing restaurant in Adams Morgan, Casa Oaxaca and ate and drank for hours. I made the mistake of wearing tight 501's. At the time I regretted it but now I am excited about my lunch tomorrow so I guess it was a good thing.     

Joey in one of my all time favorite friend's episodes wearing maternity pants for thanksgiving
not the worst idea 

Oh Giants how I love thee...but its a good thing I am a bit of a masochist.

Honestly there is a reason the Folsom Street Fair has such a welcoming audience in San Fransisco; Bay Area residents have been enjoying the torture of Giants baseball for five decades. 

 I love baseball, I was raised on Giants baseball. My father has been a fan since they moved to San Fransisco. I know that if I ever wanted to break my fathers heart (or kill him) all I would have to do is come home in the blue and white of the dreaded dodgers.I don't have a TV and I was going to avoid the pain that is Giants' baseball, just keep track of playoffs on the periphery. I knew it was best to stay away lest it suck me in like an all to tempting drug whose high is not worth the pain as you come down. Then last night's Bar Review (the clever pun for our weekly law school "social" gathering) was at a sports bar... I walk in and I am surrounded by the Giants/Braves game. And Tim Lincecum was doing an amazing job pitching despite the lack of support from the lineup. (14 Strike out, shut out, full game pitched thank you very much. I am a little in love with him, if only he would stop with the chew, gross.) So I watched  the game rather than meet people or be social. I squealed, I pounded on the table I groaned. To which my East Coast gay Best Friend (here after dubbed "hotlanta"- it is a long story mostly based on his being from Atlanta) cheekily pointed at me and said "what is this, who are you, what is going on? I haven't seen this side of you and I don't like it."
Needless to say I was hooked. I wore my jersey today, I searched out a place to watch the game, and awkwardly sat at a prime booth for hours. Only to be let down. We were ahead by four runs and lost it. We had the bases loaded and did nothing with it. And now we have to go to Atlanta tied in the series. But, because there is always hope, I leave with this...

Yep that is Tim Lincecum with his dog Cy...
(we would be getting married if not for his chew habit.)
Photograph © Black Oak French Bulldogs

 

Sometimes you're the rocket powered roller skate and sometimes your'e Wile E.

In a lot of ways this is the most important lesson I have learned from law school.

         Some days are rocket days, days when you move fast and understand everything, days when you feel on top of the world. Days when you are cold called in contracts to brief one of the more difficult cases of the semester and do well enough to earn a compliment from your professor. Days when you go faster and further than you ever thought you would. Sure maybe you are a little wobbly but you are going to get there with or without the weight of the coyote on your back.  Some days are Wile E. days, days when no matter what happens your acme shipment is just a little late and a bit defective. Days when you let just a little bit too much of your self slip into your case assessment or confuse a citing rule and mess up a document.    

The worst part is that those days are often the days that the morning dawned bright and the box looked undamaged. You strapped your skates on and felt particularly certain that this was going to be the day you finally caught Roadrunner. But no, the cards are not in your favor, the cartoonist (or law school gods) are not going along with your plan and ultimately you fall, left with the sting of rocket propelled road-burn. The crash all the more painful because of your pride and confidence, and because you so badly want that stupid bird. It has been a Wile E. kind of week. (It is never good when I am so strung up that I leave the house for school at 6:30 because I was unable to sleep, and anyone who knows me know I can sleep in.)  

          All of that hurts, but the important lesson is perspective. Each class, reading, grade, organization, even diploma is not the Roadrunner . Those are merely steps, landscapes, acme products along the way. And it is those things that are important and must be enjoyed, the Roadrunner is about constantly striving for more. And like roadrunner cartoons, when you have been flattened down by one too many anvil, and you're missing your feet because your rocket shoes blew up, its okay because this is the time to make mistakes, there is no client on the line; I don't risk a malpractice suit if I mess up. And hopefully, unlike Wile E., I will learn from my mistakes and not get the rocket powered roller skates again. (There is a whole acme catalog to try!) 

Thththats alll folks...

(Okay I look the Loony Toons analogy bit far didn't I?)

This is why I have a roommate

Today as I was unpacking my bag my roommate cam into my room. We were chatting about this and that and our love for the former tenants, who signed us up for massive numbers of coupons, came up. We chatted a little bit looking at places that looked good and we might want to try. Commenting on the totally free ones. I was thumbing through them and she was playing with the dog, both of generally quite and contemplative, as is frequently the case when we get home exhausted from a long day.

"We have to use this one soon it expires Monday" I say of the free smoothie coupon from McDonalds. I finish getting my stuff out intent to work and she says "hey do you want to go now?" I think knowing very well that the responsible thing to do would be work some more but say "yea lets go." 

As we unhook the roof on her miata, to enjoy the last colorful moment of the sunset and then the perfect fall night we were having she asks "do you want to get five guys after?"

"yes" we both smile and laugh.

It was great to go into McDonalds and pay nothing, especially because you know the intent is to suck you in and have you buy something. (My personal good dead for the rainforest today) The smoothie was very good, espeically because it was free, but I don't think Jamba Juice has anything to worry about. 

Five guys was amazing as ever. I think Grace ate as many fries as my roommate combined, I am surprised she hasn't thrown up. (she is quite the pig but more on that later.)

It was a really good evening, the sort of evening you hope to have when you respond to a post on your universities housing board.     

A pretty good Monday...

Which I was owed because last week's (mostly) sucked.
Last Monday I was sleep deprived, which was mostly my fault because I didn't get my memo written before my dad came to visit. My Torts class (which is fun and tends to have cases I understand plus a professor who genuinely enjoys teaching) was replaced by Civil Procedure (which also has a great professor but the subject is terribly dull, and sometimes confusing. it deals with issues like standing and jurisdiction, which are valuable but just not all that interesting.) Which also meant I had extra civil procedure reading to do over the weekend.
Then I had my legal writing class. This tends to be everyone's least favorite class. We all know we need it, and i do think it is helpful, it is just that the format is slow and tedious and then you are thrown out to do something on your own that you don't really know how to do. Then each week after you have toiled with it and gotten very frustrated you are told how you should have done it in the first place. It is really very discouraging, especially when you want to do well.
Last week was especially bad because I wasn't happy with where the draft of my memo was. This admittedly my fault for not working on it sooner than I did. but then we peer reviewed and my reviewer is the biggest jerk in the class, egotistical, talks back in class, thinks he can do no wrong. (He is a good writer, and did a good job editing) but had to humiliate me in the process.
Thankfully was going to happy hour after, nothing helps soothe an ego like burgers and half price drinks.
Today was much better. In part because we didn't have legal rhetoric, we have on on one conferencing with the professor instead. And I had done a good job preparing this draft. Also I was cold called in Contracts today. Something that could have been frightening, especially because it was one of the more dificult cases we have had, and I left my book with many of my notes (stupidly) at home this morning. Thankfully it went as well as it could of. Not amazing but really solid, and that I felt good about.
All and all pretty good. It isn't easy but most of it is a mind game with myself because I have never cared so much about anything before.

Guests-

I am not allowed to complain about my roommate ever.Last weekend my dad came to stay with us, only for one night and he bought me groceries and stuff for the house, not to mention took me all over Maryland trying to find a bulb to replace the one that had burned out in our bathroom. Basically I am saying it was a great visit and there was no reason for my roommate to be annoyed. My dad left on Sunday after dinner and then later on my friend came to stay with us. He mostly slept and hung out in DC while we were at school. So really no reason to complain there either. But after four days of my guests I do feel like she deserves a metal. Hanging out and catching up on all the drama in the Bay Area was great but even though I didn't over-indulge it meant not doing as much work or getting as much sleep.  

I feel like I need a nap. I addition to all the guests I also had a large assignment due and my regular load of reading. Plus I needed to clean the house (something about having my parents visit that makes me even more neurotic). I am still not entirerly caught up, but I will be on the ball by Monday morning, which is a good feeling. All of the craziness left me feeling like I was running up hill and a little out of control. It is nice to have order and predictability. 

And of course there is a call game on tonight. GO BEARS!  

Fireflies

Tonight walking home I saw a firefly. It is too late in the season for them and is already getting cold, but it was a beautiful and made me stop to appreciate what was around me. I only saw it blink once, but it was a gorgeous swan song to summer.  

Don't You Wish This Was The Chunnel Train From London to Paris?

Kinder don't you think.
Although I rarely get to ride in the luxury that is the acela.

The title of the the blog is an advertisement that is on the train from Atlantic City to Philadelphia. (I take a New Jersey transit train from Atlantic City to Philadelphia and then get on the much nicer Amtrak train from there to DC.) The adds must be in every car, and they have been posted for the last few years. I see them every time I am leaving the shore and every time I think "yes thanks for rubbing it in jerk." It has to be the last thing that you would like to see as you are leaving your vacation for the real world. I don't know what the add is for, probably an airline or a travel agent or some other similar service or maybe it is some wealthy Parisian sadist's way of getting her jollies. I think that the Amtrak adds are much more civilized, they make me want to get on a train, instead of just wishing I never had to get up for school again.

Because I couldn't find a picture of the coffee counter
 here is the scene from Marnie

I am home safe and sound and ready for another week. It is hard to face reality again, but as transitions into it go I can't think of a better way than Amtrak. I love taking the train, something most Americans don't understand. (Even with the kid kicking the back of my seat and the depressing advertisements both courtesy of New Jersey transit.) Maybe it has something to do with being from a "railroad family" both my grandfather and great-grandfather were railroad men, and I think there are days my dad wishes he had taken up the family occupation. Train travel is so calming and civilized, I don't have to take off my shoes or disply the contents of my bag. I can get up and walk around, there is WiFi on  the trains and places to plug in your computer. Even when we get stalled, which is not uncommon, I don't mind all that much. And I love it when my travel takes me to beautiful old stations, Union Station and Penn station are some of my favorites although the old station in California my great-grandmother used to commute out of holds a special place in my heart. How many people can say they are the fourth generation to get a cup of coffee a counter? (Plus it was in Hitchcock's Marnie doubling as the Hartford Connecticut.)  I will gladly take a train over flying or driving (at least if I am the driver.)

Bitten, burned and undetered.

I love visiting the shore. In all honesty it is probably my favorite vacation spot. (Part of that I will admit has to do with how I classify vactions in my head, I feel like if you come back more tired than when you left it is a trip rather than a vacation- which basically leaves out major cities.)
It doesn't really have to do with the beach, I am still partail to the beaches I grew up going to, and I am really not a sun worshiper. (Not that I wouldn't love to be but the sun doesn't tend to like those of us whose complextion falls on a makeup scale somewhere between "translusent" and "pale ivory.") I tend to be the person on the beach in a hat, cover up and SPF 75 sitting under an umbrella; today I went out with only SPF 15 on and paid the price. I can usually tell when I should move inside but we had a bit of a breeze, the only real sign that we had just missed a huricane, and I wasn't as aware of the temperature of my skin as I usually am. Needless to say I am now somewhere between candy apple and boild lobster.

No the reason I love the shore has got to be my family here, especially my aunt. Her home is so warm and full of light. We always end up having wonderful converations and eating way too much fabulous food. She and my uncle have completely redone a 1920's shore house and it is beautiful, the only house I feel as comfortable in as my mom's. Everything is done in beautiful sea inspired colors, soft muted tones, comfortable furnature. Every morning I wake up and the house smells like it has been bathed in sun light- bonus if she has been baking fresh blue berry muffins like this morrning. (For those of you who have read harry potter I think that morning in my aunt house would be one of the scents my felix fleicis potion. God I think my geek is showing.) I always leave feeling so rested and ready to face the world, it couldn't feel further from DC and the stress of law school and real life.   

The Jersey Shore

I am spending the long wekend on the Jersey shore. But just so there is no confusion my Jersey shore looks a lot more like this... 

than like this...

It is hard to belive that we are only two weeks in, I am already tired. ( I will blame it in part on school deciding to hold a special Friday session and therefore having an extra day of class this week.) Lame especially considering the fact that I would have been able to get out of town a day earlier and avoided the traffic, except with the hurricane coming I guess the shore is dead. Leave it to me to plan a beach vacation for during a huge storm.
Although it seems that now the storm has passed, missing us pretty much completely and now we have beautiful weather and smaller crowds that your usual labor day. It is sort of perfect for my intentions, relax spend time with my family, soak in the calm. I am even caught up on my reading so I only had to bring my computer. (I was able to read a novel today on the beach!) It is shaping up to be a great weekend!

Were having a heat wave...

Okay so I guess it isn't a heat wave if it is August into September, but last week it was so pleasant and I thought "Fall, early, yes please." We even had our air conditioning off, (in an attempt to save some money and the planet.) But then Monday the planet said "Just kidding." And we have been having temperatures in the nineties since the start of the week. This isn't a huge deal, I did sign up to live in what was a swamp not even 250 years ago. No it is the collision of the swamp weather with modern life that is frustrating. I seem to always choose the Metro train that has lost its air conditioning and I always seem to end up seated next to the largest smelliest person on the train. Even that I could live with, I am on Metro for less than an hour every day.
No it is the fact that school seems to think that it is appropriate to cool the building to sixty degrees that drives me nuts. I am in three shirts and a sweater with my legs pulled under me and I am still cold. I am excited about the prospect of fall and reasonable temperatures. Honestly I wish that they would cool it with the cooling it!

So why am I dressed like this? 

A Project...

Goodbye Pedicure 

So there is a long running joke in my family about "projects." When I was little I relished going over to my Aunt's house (here after referred to as Aunt Artsy) in addition to her three kids who I grew up with and regarded as quasi siblings, I loved it when she took care of me because she put together the best art projects. Muffin tin crayons: check, magazine collages: check, egg carton caterpillar: double check. I loved them, I loved her big box of art supplies and the fact that she always sat down and worked with us (to my four year old self the fact that she as a grownup was actually an artist was the most amazing thing i could think of.) The first thing I would ask when I got in her house would be "Aunt Artsy can we do an art project."  Now while I loved the projects even at four I was already goal oriented and task focused so it was typical of me that I would sit down and within ten minutes be done. This meant I would get up holding my completed artwork and stand looking up at her and ask "Aunt Artsy can we do another art project?"
When I grew out of this and got to be a bit older it was a favorite story to retell. How in preparation for my visit my Aunt would spend hours coming up with an idea, collecting supplies, laying stuff out and then I would be through it and ready for a new one in a matter of moments. to this day when I ask for a favor my uncle will frequently say "Aunt Artsy can we do an art project."
Now for my immediate family a project has an entirely different connotation. A project is what happens when my mom decides the house is too settled and something needs to change. Depending on when this mood strikes this could be rearranging furniture (something that happens so frequently that it is a running joke in our family) contact papering drawers, framing things in my sister or my bed room or what my father truly dreads a painting or wall paper "project."

I really can't describe how
ugly these were 

But hopefully you get the idea
(I forgot to take a pre-primer photo)

Growing up it wasn't uncommon to come home from sears with a gallon of paint and plans for a desk, wall or bath room. In high school being involved with set dressing for the theater meant that i got even more experience. And know I say "oh I'll just throw a coat of paint on it and it will be as good as new" with as much ease as my mom does. As a result when my roommate found a set of free bookshelves a couple blocks away I said "sure lets grab them." Even though they were terribly ugly and in really bad shape, it was just a matter of throwing a coat of paint on them.
I wanted to paint one of the walls in my room, it would be easy enough to pain them as well right? Well as was the case with many of the projects of my youth, it wasn't as cheap or easy as I expected, but the results I can be reasonably proud of.
Now getting the bookshelves in the house wasn't easy, we couldn't easily carry them so we ended up propping them up on my roommate Miata and only barely getting them up the steps into the house. And then the week of painting started, of course it was the hottest and most humid we had. And of course it didn't want to stick,and the color was more "brown black" than the "black brown" it claimed to be and matches our furniture but after days and coats and patience we have a completed living room.  

Only two more coats to go...

Mars and Venus

Being completely honest I have never really gotten the whole being friends with boys thing. Well I understood it I just had no desire to do it/was really bad at it. I am mean and snarky (mostly as a defense to cover my warm gooey interior, "sure it is" little voice in my head that sounds like dip girl says.) And it has been my experience that the males of the human species (at least straight ones- Lord knows I have no trouble being friends with gay boys) don't like being made fun of, even if I was being sarcastic (mostly) and witty (at least I think so). 
I have always been one for girlfriends, I knew how to avoid drama, and always felt that my friendship's with girls were much deeper and more significant. It always seemed like boys wanted goofy and fun, and maybe a little stupid bimbo and ego boost, where girls wanted support. I have some amazing friends, and I am devoted to them, I will no questions asked do what I can to support the women who have been my lifeline throughout my life.
Okay so why am I rambling like a lifetime movie? 
I haven't found my girlfriends, and somehow I am falling into easy friendships with the guys in my class. (Gay boys are their usual reliable selves, as amazing in law school as elsewhere.) This is absolutely bizarre for me but I think I know why it is happening.
1) The Boy/Man thing. So Boys in college are boys. Period end of sentence do not cross go do not collect 200 dollars. (The obvious caveat being non-traditional students.) Where as by law school there is an expectation of professionalism that makes the boys pretend to be men. 9I have no doubt that put them back with their buddies and there is no change from their frat house days- then again that may never change.) This means I am not so annoyed with them that I want to kill them five minutes into every conversation (Not that i ever wanted to do that with your 19 year old pledge brother, of course not) 
2) The serous relationship thing. So it feels like everyone here is in a serious long term relationship and it is expected that I am too. I guess this lessens any expectation that exchanges are somehow indicative of something sexual. (Honestly people how many of you are engaged? And no I don't need to see your engagement photo.)
3) Everyone takes this really seriously, it isn't about having fun it is about finding what you can get out of people.
4) The girls seem to have taken that to a whole new level. Cold and competitive and a little bit crazy. (I am looking at you crazy girl who wouldn't let me FREE PRINT after her. and other crazy girl who wouldn't let me use the electrical plug next to her.) Ladies is this cattiness really necessary?   
In summation:
I guess I am growing up, somehow i am able to be friends with boys without giggling about cooties.
I need to find some girl friends because Dip Girl is leaving in less then ten weeks and I won't have any one to drink, gossip and giggle about boys with.     

What a difference three months makes

My commute is not short, in fact it can take me an hour to get to or from school if I hit everything exactly wrong. (It is more like 45 minutes normally.) To get from school to the metro I take a school shuttle, this is in many way the most interesting part of my commute. Sometimes it is infuriating, like yesterday when the driver proceed to wait an extra five minutes despite the fact that we were crammed like sardines in the back and behind schedule. Today riding from school we were nearly empty, probably because I din't leave campus until 10:30, until we picked up undergraduates from the main campus. At this stop a large group of fraternity boys (My Pan-Hellenic and IFC friends would want me to call them men but I stand behind my word choice) got on our bus. They entered and immediately I was back at a fraternity house the smell was so strong. (That makes it sound like they reeked, but that isn't fair, it was nostalgic.)
It is funny how fraternities (and their members) seem to carry the same aura with them everywhere. They smelled of hookah, stale PBR, and rarely laundered clothes. Probably half of them where under the influence of more than one controlled substance, and there was no doubt that they were there, and who was within their group and who wasn't, their voices were raised and they were enjoying themselves.
I was very entertained, but mostly I was relieved. I was so glad that I had moved beyond that and that I would never have to enter a house that smelled like that again while also glad I had Greek life in my past that I knew what their letters where, and which house they had been in on my undergraduate's frat row. Mostly I am glad that I am really enjoying myself and for the first time feel comfortable with where and what I am.  

I SURVIVED!

I made it through my first day (all 11 hours- Mondays are my long day I leave the house at 8:30 and don't get back until 7:30) It was long and tiring. But you know what, I LOVED IT. Honestly it feels like summer camp (only my house is way better than those tents.)
Well more later, now on to bed and Civil Procedure tomorrow.

Orientation week

Well I am now fully oriented, I guess. Honestly I am a little disappointed that I didn't get more information, but I don't feel lost, mostly I feel eager to get started. (Also I feel loaded down with goodies, places love giving you free stuff when you are in law school. I now have two new computer bags, four flash drives and enough , highlighters pens and sticky notes-of course in slightly annoying and hard to use shapes and sizes-to last me a lifetime.
Tuesday was in my backyard, IMBY as we call it because lawyer like everyone else in DC love their acronyms. Which is an event where we are divided into smaller groups to do volunteer work around the city. My group worked along the Anacostia river doing garbage pick up. The group we worked with was really cool. Their mission is to empower the youth that live along the river through taking charge of their neighborhood. (In case you don't know the areas around the Anacostia river are some of the poorest in DC. The river is also one of the most polluted in the country, in part because DC's raw sewage is allowed to run into the river during large storms. Part of what the group does is educate the student on environmental issues but they also teach them "soft employment skills" (what my dad would call essential employability skills) showing up to work on time, working with co-worker, dress, obeying the chain of command. In addition the students also learn teaching skills, they were the ones that lead our group and they teach green collar job skills so that after they leave the program they can get a job. (Here's praying that American does the same for me, although I guess the goal is that in three years I won't have to become a green roofer.)
One of the most moving things was that in the groups headquarters (a converted pump house) they had a wall of all of the students who had been killed. It made me so thankful that I have been give the opportunities I had been given in my life.
Later in the evening all of us met up for what I realize is a law school tradition- drinking. So far I have been pleased with the way people drink, it seems like it is only social lubrication, as apposed to the insanity that is the college drinking scene. Then again maybe everyone was putting their best foot forward and it will all change once we are settled here.
On Wednesday I convinced Dip Girl to play hooky and go to lunch with me. Wee ate at Chef Geof's which was amazing, such good food, another place that had their whole menu offered for restaurant week. I have the lobster roll, which was amazing, but their key lime pie was so good that I had to send off a message to my father and gloat. (He loves key lime pie, we spent our family vacation in th Florida keys going from restaurant to restaurant asking not eating there unless they made their own key lime pie, trying to decide who had the best in the keys. Now Chef Geof's didn't have quite the same aesthetic as the funky side of the highway place we found on maroon key, but the pie was nearly as good.)
After lunch Dip Girl and I went to see Vampires suck. Both of us love true blood, although being that I no longer have a TV (let alone HBO) I won't be watching it; and we have sick fascination with all things twilight (mostly we like to make fun of it.) So we were really excited, not expecting quality but expecting to laugh really hard (there is so much material in the series) we went. And we were really disappointed. There is a ton of material in the books and movies, but mostly it was just awkward. It felt like they were making fun of the actors more than the characters they play, and honestly there is a ton more material from the characters. Dip Girl and I both decided that the originals were a funnier parody of themselves.
Thursday and Friday was orientation. Much of it was information I already knew, and there were more reassurances that we were not going to spontaneously combust from stress than I know what to do with, but maybe some people needed the reassurance. The mock class was great, I made one of those arguments where the pieces all fall together and my professor was really impressed, so that is a good way to start the year. Friday was more of the same, we went to our rhetoric sections, which is a class that I think will be a lot of work but very rewarding.
I met more people after, including a Georgia alumnus who invited me to go to the Lambda (that is our LGBT activist group) barbecue on Saturday. Given my love for gay men, of course I went and had a wonderful time, and was able to meet quite a few more people.
Which leaves toady, my last day of freedom before school starts. I am going to finish cleaning the house, I mopped, swept, swiffer-ed , cleaned the bathroom, dusted and did laundry yesterday. Most of what I have left is cosmetic i.e. windex-ing and daily dishes. Also I need to finish my reading for class. Later the DC parents are coming over to help me finish getting stuff set up, and for dinner. All and all it has been a pretty crazy week, I think it is a sign of things to come.                           

Monday on Friday

It has been a tough week, and I know that it is only going to get more difficult. At least I am comforted by the fact that much of my frustration has been over the fact that my computer is dying and I plan on buying a new one this weekend.
Monday I spent all day with DC dad getting my room set up. After some frustration and a lot of maneuvering we were able to get all of the large pieces assembled. So there are no longer boxes in my room. We didn't get to the side tables or my curtain rods, but hopefully I can get the side tables together on my own and the rest can wait for another time.

Gotta love restaurant week!

Later on Monday I went to dinner with Dip Girl and some other friends. The restaurant, Zengo, was incredibly good, it was an Asian Latin fusion place that funnily enough is right under the building I lived in three years ago. I had wanted to try it then but it never worked out, which is really what restaurant week is for. I had soft shell crabs, which I love and are amazing, scallops, and a chili chocolate cake. I love it when places offer their whole menu as an option and don't pare it down too far.

After dinner I went to the Bed Bath and Beyond which is right next door to pick up a dust buster. I love the thing! It is an amazing tool, especially when you have a dog and hardwood floors.

Finally... last weekend

Ice Cream and Bio-Degradable spoons yes please!

Okay, this has been a long time coming, and I am sorry for that. I actually wrote this post twice but am having some computer difficulties. (Namely my computer is nearing the ripe old age of seven and her- yes I am anthropomorphizing her- hard drive is dying. Thankfully i have everything backed up so it shouldn't be a huge problem but it does mean I know where the last of my graduation money is going.)
But my weekend...
I spent Saturday doing homework (yes real homework, I had to read and brief cases for my contracts classes.) I also cleaned the house. I spent the evening with Dip Girl barbecuing and getting ready for Sunday, namely we baked. We made coco pink couplets, which are amazing, and watched cheesey chick-flicks.  A group of us decided to go wine tasting and do a potluck picnic at one of the vineyards.

Leaving town when the weather finally cleared

It was an AMAZING day, despite the weather, we had two of our group try to back out because of drizzle. But it ended up clearing in time for us to eat and walk around Middleburg and adorable town (kind of like Carmel but with fox hunting instead of golf.)    
Wine tasting in Virginia has been a new experience for me. Growing up where I did I was raised around wine culture and I love going to Napa. When I have done tasting in California I tend to seek out wineries with big bold reds (and sparkling wine, I love Champaign!) I like whites too I just love reds. Now Virginia is pushing he way into the red business, but the weather here isn't conclusive to many of the grapes, (I am not exactly sure why but I am sure I will have a useful comment pop up with some helpful information. I am looking at you Great Legs Wine Goddess, here after GLWG and yes that is sucking up but you get that when you comment.) This means you have to have a really careful wine maker and the red wines tend to be really expensive.  What does this mean for me, well it means that  I am developing my palette for white wines, something that I have really enjoyed so far.

Gotta love an old time soda fountain 

After our wine tasting and wondering around the town, we also stopped in an 80 year old soda fountain and had a lovely afternoon snack.

Coming soon... In My Back Yard, meeting law school people, the computer saga, my furniture, restaurant week and more!