I Know This Much Is True

Guest Post at Knowing the Difference

2009-03-13T11:12:00.003-04:00

Check it out! Today I'm guest posting over at the ever-charming and lovely Mandy's place! If you don't already follow her blog, please give it a whirl. She is one of the most insightful and genuine people I've met on the web!

Law School Lessons

2009-02-08T23:40:00.000-05:00

9As I begin my LAST! SEMESTER! EVER! (I'm sorry, all-caps really was necessary there...) I've been thinking about the lessons I've learned in law school. Those lessons have nothing to do with my classes. Sure, I've packed my brain chock full of legal minutiae, but classes have been more about rote memorization (with a little terrorization, boredom, and pretentiousness thrown in) than actual learning.

That said, as much as I love to take nasty cracks about law school, part of me will always appreciate the experience simply because I feel that I've grown up during the past 3 years. I entered law school with low self-esteem and very little direction other than "I want to help kids!" I can honestly say that I'm leaving law school a little wiser, a lot more grown-up, ten times more confident, and happy with who I am. It took 3 years, 93 credit hours of excruciating classes, and over $100K, but I feel stronger than I ever have.

I may not be the smartest person in the room, but I can hold my own.

In no way to I mean the above sentence to be some kind of arrogant revelation about my intelligence. I do decently in school, but I am definitely not a brilliant legal mind. Some people just have a knack for legal reasoning, and I am NOT one of those people (I don't even go to professor's office hours because I have nothing to ask). At the beginning of law school, I was so intimidated by the "smart" people who seemed to know all the answers in class, and I started to consider myself legally dumb. Elle Woods before she bought the orange laptop. In fact, I felt this way throughout my first two years of law school. But, every once in awhile, something surprisingly bright comes out of my mind, especially when talking about child advocacy and guardianship law (my area of focus). I've realized lately that I do know what I'm talking about. At my job, I find solutions and help win cases. I may not be in the top 10% of my class, but I can do this. I can hang with the lawyers!

Never, ever lie. And hiding information = lying.

Not that I recall telling any whoppers in law school, but more than ever I've realized the importance of honestly and full disclosure. Just put in on the table. This is true at work (Dear client, please do not forget to tell me that your new boyfriend assaulted your soon-to-be ex-husband) and in personal relationships (S. and I have finally figured out it's easiest when we're just brutally honest).

I can get through anything. ANYTHING.

During law school, I experienced my biggest failure ever. I have never struggled in school, but my 1L year was the human equivalent of the Hindenburg (lucky for me, I am not filled with flammables). After I got my first year grades, I had a massive breakdown, cried non stop for at least 24 hours and most of the next 72, and vowed to never enter the law building again. I avoided my friends all summer and could hardly even look my parents in the face. But when I came back for my 2L year, I managed to hold my head high and carry on. So maybe I bombed my first year but I've done pretty well since then. I even told several of my friends and no one seemed to think less of me. And you know what? I actually feel stronger for it. I know now that I can completely flop and I'll still have the love and respect of my family and friends. I learned that my grades don't mean anything, because I do well at my job and can hold my own in the legal world. Mostly, I learned that I can survive anything. And if I can survive anything, there's no reason not to try everything. :)

Without friends, life is nothing!

There is absolutely NO WAY I could have toiled through the past 3 years without my friends--law school comrades, college besties, new blogger friends, and even rediscovered high school acquaintances have all been so supportive. Random friends often remind me that getting through law school IS an accomplishment, something that's easy to forget when you're surrounded by other jaded law students. College friends keep my laughing with funny memories, remind me that there is life outside of school, and make me remember who I really am. Law school friends commiserate and drink with you.

Be nice to everyone--they may help you get a job.

As I continue the gut-wrenching process known as the job search, I've found that the most random connections are helping me out. Getting back in touch with a college friend, people that work with my sister, even my former boss's husband. You never know who is going to be the persons who introduces you to your future employer. More than that, I am constantly shocked at how virtual strangers are willing to help a new graduate. In a small way, it renews my faith in professionals.

Law school may be a beast, but I am SO blessed & fortunate that it's been my biggest life challenge.

As I've said many times, when I came to law school, my only direction was "I want to help kids!" Several times during the past 3 years, I have lost sight of that original goal. Other areas of law occasionally interested me, and my six figure debt makes working for a lucrative firm sound like a clever idea. Fortunately, I've had the opportunity to intern at some amazing places, including a poverty law organization, which have helped keep my grounded. While I'm not above occasionally feeling sorry for myself, I try to remember how uncomplicated my life is. I never worry about not having enough to eat or having my heat turned off. I have a family who loves me unconditionally. I have never been a victim of violence. I have no children, nieces, nephews, or grandchildren to support. I have been given the opportunity to educate myself, and my family has always encouraged that education. I have friends I can call if I need help, or if I'm just feeling low. I have reliable transportation and can pay my bills each month. I've never had to make the decision to go back to a man who abuses me because he pays the electric bill. I've never had to wait alone in a cold apartment for my mother to come back from a drug run. My clients always remind me that I am beyond blessed. I've been given every opportunity in life, and that's why I'm using my career to help people who haven't had the same chance. I hope I never forget that.

I could go on and on, but these are the lessons I feel the most acutely. Law school has been an experience in more ways than one, and one that I have mixed feelings about. On on hand, if I could go back and talk to my 23 year-old self, I'm not certain I'd tell her to still go to law school. On the other hand, I'm a firm believe that we shouldn't regret life experiences because they make us who we are. At any rate, it's (almost) over and done with, and so I'll live and learn...

...but 4 p.m. at May 9, 2009 cannot come soon enough!

Standing Still.

2009-02-04T19:16:00.004-05:00

Apparently, updating my blog regularly was NOT a new year's resolution. Oops. Perhaps that's more of a commentary on my lack of inspiration lately, but I just haven't found anything worth writing down...or time to do it. Even as I type the previous sentence, I know it's not entirely true. I am inspried. Maybe I'm just having writer's block...or maybe I am just doing really well at my resolution to spend less time on the computer (I am!).

Suffice to say, I have been going crazy getting back into the swing of school (still hasn't happened), working at Legal Aid (still there), searching for a job (still unemployed), and fighting the crazy weather here (still icy/snowy outside!).

Still.

That's a good way to sum up how I'm feeling. Like I'm standing still, stuck until I figure out the job situation. Each thing on my mind is linked and can't seem to progress until the other things are figured out: Where will I take the bar exam? Where will I get a job? Will things work out with S.? Will I finally find an apartment that I love? Will I...?????? The questions never end.

And yet, amazingly, I am a stark raving HAPPY. Even though I am staring into the face of some MAJOR life decisions, nothing seems to shake me so much I can't bounce back from it in a few hours. For example, I was freaking out earlier this afternoon about the job situation, scrambling all over the internet looking for opportunities. As soon as I walked away from my computer, I forgot my stress and was just happy to be running errands, making dinner, and cuddling with Lucy-dog. I can't seem to stop the happiness, even when everything else is up in the air.

Maybe this is a lesson in patience for me, which is a virtue I absolutely, 100% do NOT possess. Maybe it's just a sign of the economy. Maybe it's a quarter-life stage rite of passage. Maybe it's part of my fate. At the least, it's a moment for me to catch my breath before the real rat-race of finals, graduation, taking the bar, and working.

Heck, I'm just along for the ride. :)

New Year's Resolutions

2008-12-10T12:06:00.011-05:00

I realize that many people abhor the idea of New Year's resolutions, and even fewer people keep them. Regardless of the "keeping" element, I do think it's good to take time--whether it's once a year or each month--to evaluate how much you like your life, the direction it's going, and the choices you make. For me, I try to take stock each season because it just feels right. As the weather changes, I should take time to look at what I'm doing and determine if it's working for me. So in honor of 2009 (the year I finish school FOREVER!) and the official coming of winter, here are my new goals:

1. Turn off the TV more often. I did a pretty good job at this when I first got home from Chile, but I've been bad lately. I am one of the few people who actually study better with noise than without--something about the action of tuning-out background noise helps me concentrate on the task as hand better. However, I also have a habit of turning on the TV after 9 p.m., largely because Lucy-dog is comatose at that hour and the quietness unnerves me. But also, there is nothing but bad reality shows on after 9, so I'm not really sure why I have the TV on in the first place. Goal: listen to iTunes instead of TV. Let TV be a treat, and only watch when something I really want to see is on. Exceptions for football and basketball games!

2. On the flip side, I want to spend less time on my computer. While I love reading friends' blogs, doing online crossword puzzles, and reading the Times/Post/Idealist, I do NOT need to waste time checking J.Crew's sale page each day or on Facebook. In fact, I am just flat-out irritated with the FB (and will reserve that issue for another post). Once I leave school, there is really no reason to be on my computer unless I'm researching my Race & the Law paper or checking my e-mail once or twice. That leaves extra time for 3, 4, & 5!

3. Choose outfits at night. I am AWFUL at wasting time in the morning by throwing on one outfit, taking it off, and trying another. On any given morning, there will be 2-4 cycles of outfits...and I usually return to the first option. When I lived at home, this drove my mother crazy, and when I had a boyfriend (pick any one) they hated it too. I am perpetually late and it often has to do with the outfit picking routine. Goal: Take 20 minutes at night to choose the next day's attire. Try it on at night to make sure I like it. I don't mind staying up 20 minutes later a night to do this, but I cannot keep being 20 minutes late in the morning.

4. Walk Lucy-dog EVERY DAY, no exceptions. Ok, pouring rain is an exception, but she hates rain anyway. Ms. Lucy does get walked about 5 times a week, but sometimes I leave at 8:30 a.m. and get home at 5 p.m. and I'm just too.darn.tired to muster up the energy to deal with squirrel stalking and muddy paws. But on those days I do rally for the w-a-l-k, I usually end up feeling more energized afterwards, even if it's just for 20 minutes around the neighborhood. And a walked Lucy-dog is a sweet, cuddly, baby. A non-walked Lucy digs in trash cans and eats old Kleenex. Point taken.

5. Make a new dish each week. First things to try: CIA's honey-wheat bread, Ina's citrus roasted chicken, and Christopher's curry pork burgers.

6. Ride my bike to school instead of driving. I'm actually really excited about this one. My sweet new bike, a birthday gift from S., arrived this week, and I can't wait to put my milk crate on the back, basket on the front, and start adventuring around Louisville. I get so, so, so tired of dealing with traffic on the way to school, and I figure the ride will only take my an extra 5 minutes each way (and remember, I'm going to save more time in the morning because I won't be choosing 18 new outfits!). I've wanted a nice bike for a long time, and I am ridiculously excited about my new wheels! I've already named her (obviously) Jenny. :)

7. Have a good rough draft of my Race & the Law paper by spring break. This is non-negotiable. I know this class is going to be a bear, and I really admire and respect the professor (and may or may not have a hopeless crush on him...) and want to turn in a piece of work I'm proud of. I am a life-long procrastinator and doer-at-the-last-minute, so this will be a challenge but very worth it.

8. This kills me to write, but I'm really trying: Be the best Maid of Honor possible. My very best friend is getting married in March, and it's a big ol' Southern affair. I am NOT a wedding person and I generally just show up for the open bar and to check out what everyone else is wearing....but this is really, really important to her, and so I will plan showers and bachelorettes, I will wear a dress that matches my shoes (kill.me.now) & 7 other women, and I will do my best to make sure it's the happiest day possible. Luckily, she's an amazing girl and non-bridezilla-esque, so this is more about me getting over my wedding disgust (5 years of working at a bridal shop will do that do you...) because she deserves to have everything she wants out of a wedding.

9. Go to the gym (or the pool) 4 times a week. Self-explanatory.

10. This is the biggie: Work on my self-confidence. My lack of self-love is 26 years in the making, but I'm determined to see myself in a better light. I will never be the tiniest girl in the room, but I'm going to celebrate my curves. I have good hair & a decent shoe collection. I'm nice (ahem, after 10 a.m. I'll just never be a morning person...). When someone compliments me, I'm going to say, "Why thank you!" instead of, "Whatever." For some reason--perhaps my Midwestern upbringing--I've always associated self-confidence with arrogance, but I know that there's a dividing line. Feeling good about myself isn't arrogant, it's enlightening.

11. And the second biggie: Find a job I love. I will have a law-related job before the bar exam. I will. I WILL. I've got a killer cover letter & resume (my first step in self-confidence building was selling myself on paper) and I'm working on my interview skills (less giggling, more direct eye contact, etc.). I will have a job before July 28th. I just WILL.

So there it is--my over-zealousness in print form. The good news is that I'm so close to accomplishing most of these goals already. I tried very hard to not set realistic expectations for myself, and I believe I've set achievable standards. Here's to new beginnings & happier times!

Happy 2009!

Rejections & Realizations

2008-12-09T17:36:00.010-05:00

I've said it 10,000 times: Break ups suck. There's no way to sugar coat it, folks. The only thing worse than the break-up is getting back out into the dating world afterwards. I successfully managed to put off this great job until this week.

Let me just say, it was not good.

Against all my better judgment, I agree to let my 36-and-single cousin fix me up with one of his 36-and-single frat brothers. Who just happens to be a doctor. A plastic surgeon, actually. A plastic surgeon doctor who is so busy that e-mail was the "best" way to reliably get in touch with him. Does anyone else see the flashing red lights??? Yeah, me too.

In short, I got rejected...in an e-mail. Yup. The jerk didn't even wait to meet me before blowing me off. I'm not really bitter...yet. More like irritated with a small side of bitter. So first, here are my tips for the bum: First, please take the time to get to know before you decide that you can't deal with my mild neuroses, untamable hair, and penchant for shoes I can't afford. Don't give me the brush off just because you're 10 years older than me and my cousin set us up (which could be part of the issue). Don't assume that just because I've never been to your office, I don't have boobs--I do! Don't ignore be because I spent 20 minutes crafting the perfectly sweet-but-short introductory e-mail, which I sent to two friends for suggestions before ever sending to you. And most of all, don't be a pretentious asshole and tell me you might have a "moment" to meet with me--have the balls to say "No thanks, I'd rather not," or be decent enough to lie and say that you'd love to meet me for a drink next week and just judge me after you meet me.

No matter how many times my friends tell me that it's his loss, he's a freak/loser/jerk, I still can't help but feel inadequate. Why doesn't he want to meet me? Did he see a picture of me and decide I was a no-go? Is the 10 year age gap too much for him? Does he think I'm still a giggling sorority girl? Maybe it's my nose. I hate my nose. He's a plastic surgeon, so I bet he hated my nose too. What if he just hates lawyers (entirely plausible)?

And then I realized: A man I don't even know has made me question my self-worth. More importantly, I realized that this isn't about him, it's about ME. About my insecurity with dating again. My unwillingness to "get back out there." My refusal to meet my potential future husband at a bar. After being rejected by a guy I spent almost 5 years with, I am still not ready for rejection by someone I don't even know. Maybe I've been single for almost an entire year now, but the wounds are still pretty fresh. Being rejected by a stranger stinks, but the worst part is that it brings back memories of being pushed away by someone you gave your heart to.

So maybe I'm just not ready to get back out there, and that is totally fine. I've spent 5 years focusing on someone else, so maybe it's time to date myself. To give myself the energy, attention, and effort I've been spending on men. In 2009, I'll take care of myself. I'll exfoliate more and stress less (umm, let's ignore the bar exam for the moment). I'm going to spend the weekends doing things I like instead of wondering why I don't have a date. I'm going to learn to sew and surf (yes, I'm going to surf!). I'm going to make myself happy. I'm going to fall in love with me.

I deleted Mr. Dr.'s e-mail this morning without any real hard feelings. Without him, I might not have focused on my next relationship.

Christmas Meme

2008-12-08T12:46:00.007-05:00

Here's yet another meme instead of something substantive, because 1) I'm still being subjected to silly final exams, and 2) I've got a death-cold that has me sneezing and coughing so much that even my dog is annoyed. Here's to a happier holiday & the upcoming break from madness!

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? PAPER! Damn the trees, I want to rip open the paper and tear at ribbons!

2. Real tree or artificial? I would love to have a real tree, but seeing that I'm allergic to everything on the planet, real trees just give me headaches and hives. I've got 4 artificial trees & I'm not done yet!

3. When do you put up the tree? Well that's a funny story...seeing as that my law school likes to start final exams the Monday after Thanksgiving, putting up a tree the day after Thanksgiving isn't really an option. I've started putting mine up somewhere between my birthday and turkey day, but I'm hoping to go back to the ol' day-after routine next year.

4. When do you take the tree down? The week after new year's. Any longer and it's just too depressing. Plus, I like to start the new year with a clean and uncluttered home.

5. Do you like eggnog? NO.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? If 22 counts as a child, my Kitchen Aid mixer. Hands down BEST.GIFT.EVER. My parents did it perfectly: it was completely unexpected & something I had wanted for at least a decade. I squealed like a little girl!

7. Hardest person to buy for? My brother-in-law.

8. Easiest person to buy for? My dog.

9. Do you have a nativity scene? No. I'm holding out until I inherit my mom's wooden set that rotates & plays Silent Night. I used to watch it for hours as a kid.

10. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards? Seriously, people e-mail holiday cards? TACKY.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Anything from my Aunt Elizabeth. I'm pretty sure I got a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt when I was 20.

12. Favorite Christmas movie? Tie between The Christmas Carol with George C. Scott (a Christmas Eve tradition at our house) and Prancer.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Post-finals. I like the mad-dash.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I'm pretty sure all my girlfriends and I did that in elementary school...

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Umm.....I have to choose one??? Ribbon candy, chex mix, honey ham, any type of cookie, WINE, meatballs....we have quite a spread on Christmas day!

16. Lights on the tree? Surprisingly, I have all white lights because they match my ornament themes, but as a child I preferred colored lights. I love them if they are done in a retro way.

17. Favorite Christmas song? "O Holy Night." Anita Bryant has a great version, but nothing beats a guy at my parent's church who sings it a cappella at midnight.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? HOME. Every once in awhile, I am jealous of people who take ski vacations or go to the beach, but then I'm surrounded by my goofy family and I realize that NO ONE has a better holiday than we do.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blizen, Rudolph.

20. Angel on the tree top or star? I prefer a Star. My grandma had one with lights and I thought she was rich.

21. Open presents on Christmas Eve or morning? Neither. Our family opens them after lunch!

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Do I really need to answer this? FINALS. They have ruined both my Thanksgiving and my Christmas for 3 years now.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color? I love retro trees with old-school glass and metal ornaments and uber-bright colors. My "fun" tree has lime green, bright red, turquiose blue, and silver. I try not to play favorites, but I love that tree 10x more than my "classy" living room tree.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? As previously mentioned, my mom makes a great buffet of finger foods for Christmas lunch--soup, meatballs, ham and turkey sandwiches on silver dollar buns, and tons of cookies. For supper, we eat the leftovers. It's casual and perfect.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? For fluff, I need some work-appropriate clothes and I'd love the Southern Living cookbook. For serious, I want my grandma back.

Happy Holidays!!!!

Perspective

2008-11-18T23:04:00.003-05:00

My dear friend Lu is truly super woman. She is a law student, a fiancée, and a mother to the most adorable almost-one-year-old you'll ever see. Not to mention the 10,000 extracurriculars she's involved in, and her adorable apartment, andandand. She is every woman. However, even Lu has those days where everything seems like a struggle just to keep treading the water. She often tells me that the TLC show John & Kate Plus 8 is her "perspective show" for those days when she's at her wits end and feels terrible. I could be worse, she could have 8 children under 6, right?!?!

Yesterday, I had a perspective day. I experienced a series of events which reminded me that I am the luckiest person in the world, simply because I have a heated apartment, friends I can talk to about anything, and I will never truly go hungry. No, this is not one of those self-righteous rants about being grateful for what you have (although you should...). It's merely a reflection on my day, and perhaps even a call to take a moment for gratitude & reflection on how truly, deeply lucky we blog-readers/writers are.

I woke up yesterday morning in a not-so-pleasant mood, largely because it was cold, I didn't have time to make coffee (SIN!), I couldn't get the pilot light on my oven lit, and I'm coming down with a cold. While I spent 20 minutes fiddling with the pilot, I started obsessing about the impending finals, the fact that my dog hates me, missing my family, etc. By 10 a.m., I had worked myself into a tizzy of worry & stress. By 2 p.m., my entire viewpoint changed.

Yesterday at work, we mediated the most heartbreaking case ever. EVER. Our client is a very young woman who has spent most of her life living in a refugee camp, so badly beaten that she still bears physical scars, and her parents are still overseas in the camp. She is here in a foreign city, completely alone, trying to raise her children on virtually no income, and going through a horrible divorce. There are so many more awful details to this case that I can't discuss, but believe you me, it was devastating. Today was the only day I've ever cried at work. In front of my boss. And she was crying, too.

Lesson learned: Whenever I miss my family, I need to stop and realize they are an hour away. One hour. That's it. I can call them, I can drive to see them, and I do it often (in fact, I met my mom for dinner last night). In fact, I have a home to go to, and it's lovely and warm and full of very happy memories. I don't know what it's like to be forced out of the country I've always known & shoved in a crowded camp. I don't know what it's like to never be able to go back home. I have never known hunger and my parents won't ever let me, even if I'm too old to be turning to them. If I need help, my parents are able to feed me, clothe me, and make sure my heat stays turned on and my dog has food. They are always, ALWAYS there for me & support me with very few questions asked. I don't even know the true meaning of homesick or alone.

At dinner, my mom and I had a conversation about happy topics: domestic violence and poverty. We discussed the sad, hard truth that several of my clients go back to their abusive spouses because of financial reasons. Without delving into the discussion at length, let me just say that we talked at length about the topic, and by the end of dinner, I was just whispering "thank you, God, thank you God..."

Lesson learned: I am beyond lucky because I've never had to make a choice between someone who might hurt me and being warm and/or having a full belly. Enough said.

After dinner with mama, I was doing my nightly routine of FBing/stalking, when a good friend from high school sent me a message--her grandmother has terminal cancer and they are stopping treatment. My friend is dearly close to her grandmother, who is a wondering, spunky woman that doesn't quite realize that she's 85. Naturally, my friend is floored. I hardy knew what to say, because how do you tell someone it's going to be ok when you know that (at least for awhile) it's not?

Lesson learned: I may still be mourning my own perfect, irreplaceable grandmother, but at least I'm through the worst. She's not suffering at all now. She passed so peaceably, we couldn't have wished more for her. The initial "noooooooooooo" has worn off, and I'm (slowly) moving through my grief. I'm still sad every single day, but I'm beginning to think of her and laugh more and cry less. I have my mom and my sister to share stories with. Most of all, I had her for 93 wonderful years. She was the perfect, and I do mean perfect, grandmother. I was lucky to have her.

So that's my perspective-check. I've got it pretty damn good, folks. When I think of all the things I DO have, it makes it much easier to forget about the things I "don't" have (those new J.Crew patent pumps, the yellow sweater from Anthropologie, etc.). They just seem incredibly unimportant.

What gives you perspective?

Rebooted

2008-11-13T09:14:00.003-05:00

I have my computer back!

That's right, my dear little dud of a MacBook decided to join the illustrious legion of computers that crash 2 weeks before final exams. How nice of it.

Alas, the good folks at the Mac store (thank you Will!!!!) brought my little machine back to life, complete with a new hard drive, keyboard, casing, and operating system. It's virtually new without being new. It's like if your best friend had massive plastic surgery: you know it's the same person, but it looks 100% different.

So I'm back, but I won't be around much. Finals time is upon us, and I have to cram 3 months of Federal income tax laws into my brain so I can regurgitate them in a 3 hour span. Fun times!

Oh Joy, A Meme!

2008-11-08T15:16:00.003-05:00

But seriously, you know I love this stuff. :) It's insta-blog fodder! Thanks, Kendall!

1. Were you named after anyone? Unfortunately not. My name was going to be Philip, but I turned out to be a girl (oops!). Then it was Julia, but my mom couldn't think of a middle name, so I became Kathryn Marie. I hated it as a child, but love it now. Plain but classy, like me.

2. Do you still have your tonsils? Nope. I don't remember anything about it, just that I don't have to clean them out with a bobby pin like my mom (insert ewwww here).

3. Would you bungee jump? Hmm. Something about this really bothers me. It's not the falling, it's the snapping back up part. But I really, really, REALLY want to skydive!

4. What is your favorite cereal? I have to pick just one? Cereal is my fall-back meal when I'm too tired to cook. Warm oatmeal made with milk, cinnamon, and raisins is pretty hard to beat!

5. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Never. The only shoes I even own with laces are my pink Roos.

6. What is your favorite ice cream? Toss up between cinnamon and peppermint.

7. What is the first thing you notice about people? Usually the way they speak. Are they sweet, rude, arrogant, bubbly, etc. Second? Shoes. I'm always staring at the shoes.

8. What is your least favorite thing about yourself? Loaded question! Physically, my nose. Otherwise, my moodiness. My Scorpio catches up with me a lot. I should probably work on my self-esteem, too, but I've been doing that for almost 26 years now to no avail.

9. What was the last thing you ate? Fruity Cheerios (delicious!) & a spoonful of peanut butter. :)

10. What are you listening too right now? A little mix of Etta James, Lauryn Hill, Nina Simone, & Joss Stone. Retro-soul.

11. Last movie you watched? Love in the Time of Cholera. I know, never watch the movie version of a book, but I just had to see how it was done. Cinematography & music were beautiful, screenplay adaption was AWFUL. But Javier Bardem made it well worth the $4.99 rental fee! Every time he would talk about his broken heart, I would tell him (and my empty apartment) "It's ok, Javi, I'll comfort you..."

12. What did you dream about last night? That is for me to know! Some things are best kept to oneself. :) It's finals time, so I'm sure my recurring nightmare will start weaseling back into my life--you know, the classic "I totally forgot about the exam until the day of" madness.

13. What book are you reading? Another unfair question. Currently, I am boring my way through "Immigration and Citizenship: Process and Policy." Sexy.

14. Summer or winter? Summer weather, but winter food. Don't get me wrong, summer has all the fresh veggies and fruits on it's side, but nothing is cozier than winter soups, braises, and pies. But yet I can't function if the temperature is under 70 degrees. Conundrum...

15. Do you have any special talents? Absolutely not.

Alright, your turn! I tag Lauren & Heather, because they might actually do it. :)

Oh Shit.

2008-11-07T17:47:00.004-05:00

When I told my dear Mama that I was cutting my hair, she cautioned, "Just keep it long enough to wear in a ponytail!"

So when I went to my hair appointment tonight, what's the one thing I forgot to say???

Thaaa's right. I've got SHORT hair.

I kind of like it. :)

The Great Divide

2008-11-04T16:03:00.014-05:00

For the first time today, I had the experience of going to vote with both of my parents.

In 2000, I was robbed of my chance to vote by the pesky fact that my birthday was mere days after the election. In 2004, I voted absentee from my college dorm room. This year, 2008, I stood between my parents as I showed my license and signed my name.

What struck me more than seeing our names all in a row on the registration sheet was how much I have diverged from my parent's ideologies. I'm no longer the little girl who hangs on every word said by her Mommy and I no longer like sports teams just because my Dad does (the Lions? Seriously, Dad???). As my parents began to grow more conservative with age, my sister and I have become increasingly liberal (S. once called me a "little Commie," and I had to politely reprimand him: "No dear, I'm socialist.").

However, I know that I hold my liberal views because of the values my parents impressed on me as a child. If I only could remember the number of times my mom said, "Kate, you are no better than anyone else and no one is better than you." I can remember my dad digging for dollars and change for the homeless as my sister and I tried to blaze on by. Family vacations always had to be some form of compromise between a beach for mom and a battlefield/historical site for dad--so we could have fun but also never forget the sacrifices of others. My whole life, I've been taught how incredibly blessed I am, and because of those gifts, I have a duty to give back to my community. That those with more have an obligation to help those with less. That everyone, EVERYONE, deserves a fair shot in life. Just because you're born with more doesn't mean you deserve more, or that someone born with less doesn't deserve more. And most importantly, sometimes you have to make personal sacrifice to ensure fairness & justice.

Sound like some rhetoric we've heard lately? Read this.

So thank you, Mom & Dad, for making me who I am today, even if we don't always agree on politics. In some ways, the apple still hasn't fallen far from the tree. It just feel further to the left.

I should know better...

2008-11-01T19:25:00.005-04:00

Things that I am too old to do anymore:

1. Spend 45 minutes yanking items from my closet in search of THE PERFECT OUTFIT, only to go back to the very first thing I had on. And where was I going, you ask? That's right, to a small dinner party. My priorities are stellar.

2. Run around town dropping off my dry cleaning/paying rent/buying new lip gloss, and forget to eat lunch. Remember that I only ate 140 calories of breakfast in the form of turkey bacon. Decide that it's ok to start drinking wine because I'll be eating a massive dinner soon. Proceed to eat a miniscule amount of dinner because my tummy is too full of wine.

3. Consume 1.5 bottles of wine, solo. On the aforementioned empty stomach. Ugh.

4. Call S. and tell him that he MUST talk to me as I walk the loooong walk home from my friends (ahem, 2 blocks in sober eyes) because there might be ghosts out. Force S. to talk to me for the next 45 minutes as I shout, "But S., the bed is SPINNING. IN CIRCLES. AND LUCY-DOG IS SPINNING, TOO!"

5. Spend this morning drinking water, eating wheat Saltines, and swearing that I'm never drinking again. Like, ever. Nevahvnevah again.

6. Crack open another bottle of wine at 7 p.m. because it's impossible to stay home and study on a Saturday night without drinking wine. That makes me less loser-ish. Or a law student. One of those. Or both. I think I'll mention that on my Bar application when they ask me why I am qualified to be an attorney. "Well, your Honor, I can pronounce words like 'heretofore,' and 'in limine' even when I'm hammered. Ask anyone!"

And to think, I turn 26 in a little over week. I have matured so much since those glory days at Vanderbilt....

Things I Love About Fall

2008-10-29T10:16:00.005-04:00

Once upon a time, someone described to me how our bodies and minds correlate to the seasons. In fall, we begin to slow down and take stock of our lives, thinking about our next direction. During winter, we take cold, hard evaluation of who we are, where we are, and what we want. Spring is a time for putting those winter plans in action, and in Summer, we blossom in our new found path. Rinse & repeat. It's a cycle we continue our whole lives.

From the I first heard that theory, I've appreciated each season a little bit more. I really try to think about how the season relates to my own life--Am I celebrating how wonderful my life is? Do I need to look more closely at my choices? Do I need to slow down and make some plans?

In the spirit of fall, here are a few of my favorite things about the season, and how they encourage me to slow down, relax, and prepare for the hard decisions ahead:

1. Waking up in the morning, knowing that it's chilly outside, but being warm and snuggled under my 3 quilts, with Lucy-dog right next to me. I'm so grateful that I have a safe haven--my home.

2. Watching Lucy-dog hop through piles of leaves. Her little 3-inch long legs make it impossible for her to walk, so she bunny-hops. This is quite possibly the cutest thing ever. I could have ended up with any pound-hound, but I am so, so, so lucky that Lucy choose me to be her mommy. My life would be much emptier without her cuddles and wiggly butt.

3. Hot coffee in the morning, warm spicy chai in the afternoon, and piping hot anise tea at night. I will remember to be grateful for the little pleasures in life.

4. FOOTBALL--Go Dores! Last weekend, I got to see a Vandy game with my Dad, and it was quite possible one of the best days of my life. I don't get to spend a lot of alone time with my Dad anymore, and I relish each time we have daddy-daughter days.

5. My favorite holidays: Halloween, my birthday, Turkey day, and CHRISTMAS (Ok, so maybe Christmas is in the winter, but I get to decorate for it in the fall!). My dad used to walk us all over our little town trick-or-treating, and my plastic pumpkin was always overflowing. Mom let us eat as much candy as we could manage when we got home, i.e. a little kid's dream. I love, love, LOVE (one more time) LOVE being with my family, and fall holidays mean my whole family is together. I am so lucky that the women in my family taught me how to cook, and holidays are my favorite times to be crammed in the kitchen with my mom & sister, asking for help with the gravy or making pies. I will always remember my grandmother at the stove, stirring creamed corn, and I'll never forget the way her blackberry pies tasted.

6. Boots! I finally get to drag my lovely Frye's out of the back of my closet. Nothing reminds me of my glory days in Nashville more than pulling on my Harness boots and clomping around town. I still remember the day (my birthday, actually) that my mom & dad bought them for me.

So there you have it--Kate's preparation for the winter, little reminders of what makes me happy at this time of the year. Just a little reflection on an underrated season. I encourage you to use the falling leaves as a reminder to evaluate & remember the simple things that make you smile.

Self-Soothing

2008-10-27T18:46:00.007-04:00

Well, I knew it was coming: my first breakdown of the semester. A little early this semester, but, all things considered, I think I'm entitled to a little premature freak-out.

On Sunday, everything reached a culmination point. My seminar paper is due in a week and I haven't started. I have no idea what is going on in my tax law class, and 0% motivation to study the Federal income tax code. Things with S. are up-down-up-down-fake up-bottomless pit down, etc. My friends all seem to have fallen off the face of the earth, as we're all under equal pressure this semester. My hair looks like a version of Jenny Garth's stringy, rooty, mess circa 90210 (it's really hard to feel pretty with air-band hair). In short, I was down about EVERYTHING.

My mom has a favorite thing to say to me when I'm wallowing: "Either live with it or do something about it." So today, I engaged in a little self-therapy. I made a list of everything that was contributing to my near-panic attack, and then made a second list of what I could do about those things. I came to 2 conclusions: they were all either things that I absolutely can't control--e.g. S's behavior--or things that I can take care of with a little hard work and preparation--work on paper NOW instead of writing this blog post. I realize that sounds dangerously close to the AA serenity prayer (I know aaaalllll about this little ditty from several clients) but there is something incredibly calming about letting go of things that I can't change...and taking on the ones I can. I know I can (and must) rock this paper, I will study my (Reuben-esque) rear off over the holiday, and I will get through this last year of law school. I will.

Those two little realizations have done a lot for my mental health. Not to mention the two giant coolers of groceries and goodies my parents sent home with me. Even thought I'm almost 26, still in school and brokedy-broke-broke, my parents still don't want me to starve. In fact, they certainly don't want me to lose those last 5 Chilean pastry pounds, as evidenced by the amount of carbs I put up in my cabinet and fridge. Mmm rice and pasta and homemade apple butter and peach rings!!!

And my #1 pick me up: My mom bought me this. I don't care if it's gross, I've wanted one ever since I saw the informercial at 3:30 a.m. a year ago during an intense bout of insomnia. God bless TV marketing!

So here's to the light at the end of the tunnel, better days, and letting go. I'm so lucky to have a family who picks me up when I'm down and makes sure I have a full pantry. And by this weekend, with a little luck and lots of work, I'll have a rough draft. I might even take control of my hair & make an appointment.

Middle of the Night Freak Outs

2008-10-24T11:13:00.003-04:00

I've had raging insomnia for a handful of years now. It started during my senior year in college and steadily escalated to the point that I actually got an Rx for chemical sleep assistance. Keep in mind, I abhor taking little magic pills to cure what ails me. The last time I actually sang myself a chemical lullaby was on the 10 hour flight to Santiago.

My usual M.O. for falling asleep involves me shifting into various positions, convinced that I will fall asleep as soon as I find that perfect "spot." This annoys my dog to no end, to the point that she frequently jumps of my bed and sleepily stumbles to the couch. I swear she mutters, "screw that crazy lady, messin' with my beauty sleep" under her breath.

Lately, I have been tossing and turning more than usual, and even after I finally fall asleep, I wake up in cold sweats, freaked out of my mind about some to-do or the other. Last night was an extreme example. Lucy-dog had long since packed up for the couch by the time I feel asleep, sometime after 2:30 a.m. I proceeded to wake up almost every hour with a new paranoia.

At 3:30, I couldn't remember my grandmother's voice. I willed myself to stop crying and concentrate. I eventually could remember the way she said, "Well I'll be!" and that calmed me enough to doze off again.

At 4:30, I realized my seminar paper is due in 2 weeks. I almost hopped out of bed to start reading journal articles, but I somehow fell asleep before I actually put a foot on the floor.

At 5:30, why hadn't S. called me last night? Or had he? I couldn't remember? I talked myself out of calling him in the wee hours of the morning, but made a mental note to check my phone in the morning to see if he had called (he had, twice).

At 7:00, Lucy had to potty. As in, HAD TO GO RIGHT NOW. I stumbled outside in THE purple sweatpants, a black t-shirt with no bra, and a pair of grandma's old fuzzy socks...only to find that it was pouring down rain. Being a bad mother, I let go of Lucy's leash and let her wander into the ivy-covered front yard to figure it out on her own. My logic was that she would come back because she's terrified of rain. Check one for Kate! Back in my bed, I replayed that irresponsible action over and over and freaked out over my fear of Lucy running away. Mental note to never do that again.

At 8:15, my morning wake-up call from S. He sounds too perky. I went back to sleep

At 8:45, did S. call? Shit, I have to write a paper today. I have to pack for mom and dad's. Have I called my dad lately? Did my sister really say he's voting for Obama? Too much. Back to sleep.

9:45. SHIT. Overslept almost 2 hours. Laid awake thinking for a few minutes and finally remembered grandma's voice. Her laugh.

Welcome to a night in the life of K. Fun, yes? I'm laughing too. But seriously, these midnight freak-outs are an indication of ONE.VERY.BIG.THING: Finals are coming. Only 4 weeks. Paper due in 2.

The night sweats have commenced. I won't sleep well for the next month.

It's crunch time.

Learning to live with it.

2008-10-23T09:46:00.000-04:00

During a discussion over ex-boyfriends, my 19 year-old friend A. told me something that is still haunting me. A. and her long-time high school boyfriend broke up over a year ago, but she still affectionately mentions her ex every now & again. She told me that she was certain they would never be together again (in fact, she is dating a great new guy). But she also made this profound statement: "The hardest part is realizing that I'm always going to be in love with him, and I have to live with that."

How amazingly accurate.

I don't really want to dig into the deeper details of my personal life to the entire web community, but it's sufficient to say that I've got to learn to live with my feelings for S. Even if we can't be together, a piece of me will always fiercely love him. I know it can't go back to the way it was, but damn! how I wish it could. I wish we could have our weekly late Sunday morning breakfasts, where we take our greasy heads out to eat eat greasy-spoon food. I wish we could be that couple holding hands (PDA! My only exception) as we browse boutique-y shops & share coffee. I want to go back to our routine of calling each other morning, noon, and night. I want him to hold me. I want to hold him. I want it back the way it was.

But we can't. Instead, I've got to live with it.

Song Lyric Survey (Stolen from Lauren!)

2008-10-17T10:34:00.000-04:00

Normal questions, harder answers. Only answer in song lyrics.

Current relationship status: "I've never been so alone, And I've never been so alive." (Third Eye Blind, Motorcycle Driveby)

Your first love: "Had to find some higher ground, had some fear to get around. You can't say what you don't know, later on won't work no more." (Tom Petty, Square One)

Do you believe in love at first sight? "I don't know if I can do that." (Luke Bryan, I Don't Know If I Can Do That)

Your most recent ex: "I keep letting you back in, how can I explain myself. As painful as this thing has been, I just can be with no one else. See I know what we've got to do, you let go, and I'll let go too." (Ex Factor, Lauryn Hill)

Your best friend: "And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call, you meant more to me than anyone I've ever loved at all. But you taught me how to trust myself, and so I say to you, this is what I have to do." (Missy Higgins, Where I Stood)

Sex: "You keep me in a daydream, keep me going strong." (Superstitious, Stevie Wonder)

Marriage: "I don't care for your fairytales. You're so worried 'bout the maiden though you know she's only waiting on the next best thing." (Fairytale, Sara Barellies)

Life: "If you think time will change your ways, don't wait too long." (Madeleine Peyroux, Don't Wait Too Long)

Death: "When someone said count your blessings now, I guess I just didn't know how...I'll keep you locked in my head until we meet again...and I won't forget you." (Pink, Who Knew)

Your regrets: "Now I've made some mistakes, I've lost some friends a long the way. But I don't carry it because it's made me a better chick...I may not be what I'm supposed to, but I can tell you right now I ain't what I used to be." (Mary J. Blige, Reflections)

High School: "She used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows, sign her letters with X's and O's." (She's An American Girl, Trisha Yearwood)

Your worst enemy: "There are people in your life who have come and gone, they let you down and they hurt your pride. You better put it all behind you baby; life goes on. You keep carrying that anger, it will eat you up inside." (Don Henley, Heart of the Matter)

Authority: "I opened my mouth and I heard myself, it can get pretty lonely when you show yourself, guess I could have made it easier on myself but I, I could never follow." (Dixie Chicks, Long Way Around)

Politics: Listen to all of Ray Lemontagne's "How Come." But in particular: "And justice can be a thief, and freedom can be an empty cup from which everybody wanna drink."

Your religious stand/views: "I hope that everybody can find a little flame. Me, I say my prayers and then light myself on fire, walk out on a wire once again...." (Counting Crows, Goodnight Elizabeth)

Monday: "Just another manic Monday..." (The Bangles, Manic Monday. Cliche and unoriginal, but soooo true. Plus, this one was one of my favorite songs as a child and I would put this tape on repeat!)

Tuesday: "The first sight of morning is grey and alarming, It's so disappointing the day has come so soon." (Brandi Carlile, Late Morning Lullaby). I HATE Tuesdays.

Wednesday: "I'm halfway there...living on a prayer" (yup, that's some old school Bon Jovi for you!) Did I mention I'm not a fan of the mid-week? This is getting painfully unoriginal...

Thursday: "But what you've done here is put yourself between a bullet and a target, and it won't be long before you're pulling yourself away..." (Bullet and A Target, Citizen Cope)

Friday: "Heads California, Tails Carolinas, somewhere greener, somewhere warmer." (Heads California, JoDee Messina) Damn, but Fridays just make me want to hop in Gretta-Jetta and head...anywhere.

Saturday: OBVIOUSLY--"Worked hard all week, got a little jingle on a Tennessee Saturday night." (Alabama, Dixieland Delight)

Sunday: "Although though now, most of my days are spent alone." (Amos Lee, Arms of a Woman). Loneliest day of the week.

Coffee: "If the way you drank your coffee was the way you looked at me, I could take both my hands of the TV." (Lisa Loeb, Lisa Listen)

Tea: "And I'm weeping for honey and milk..." (Warm Whispers, Missy Higgins)

Alcohol: "Bottle of red, bottle of white, ever kind of mood you're in tonight." (Scenes from an Italian Restaurant, Billy Joel)

Cigarettes: "I said no, no, no." (Rehab, Amy Winehouse)

Lunch meat: Hmm....don't eat it.

Food: "Love love love love love, Looove love love!!!" (Bottle It Up, Sarah Barellies).

Color: "When you have awoken, from all the dreams broken, come and dance with me, dance with, into the colors..." (Ben Harper, Into the Colors)

Anything you'd like to add: "She is young and she still has her confidence, and it's not too late to tie up those loose ends." (Loose Ends, Rosie Thomas)

When Did Women Stop Having Waists?

2008-10-15T18:39:00.005-04:00

A burning question has been etched in my mind lately:

When did clothing companies stop designing for REAL women's bodies???

I know, I'm deep like that. But let me just start this little rant with the fact that I have spent almost $150 in the past 2 months having my clothes tailored. That's $150 I no longer get to spend on groceries. I sure hope Thanksgiving produces lots and lot of leftovers...

I am a very averaged sized girl--5'3 and a size 4. My body is proportional, i.e. my bottom half matches my top half just fine. I even got all techie and posted a picture so you can see for yourself. However, I can't find one damn thing that fits! I have been blessed/cursed with a "woman's shape," i.e. I have breasts and hips and a small waist LIKE A NORMAL WOMAN. Apparently, this makes me ineligible for 90% of the clothing on today's racks.

I recently bought the cutest little suit--black tweed with tiny hints of bright colors, fitted skirt with big buttons, and the most darling little swing jacket with 3/4 sleeves. It screams "wear me to interviews at non-profits!!!" I love it. However, it was a large part of that $150 tailoring bill. Some women would have just passed on the little suit, claiming it didn't fit (C. is like this--if it doesn't fit off the rack she won't buy it. C. is also shaped like those girls on ANTM). What bothers me is that the suit DID fit, minus the fact that the waist was as wide as the hemline. I hope you're thinking, "WTF?" because I certainly did. In fact, EVERY SINGLE SUIT I tried on had the same problem. And it wasn't that I was looking at cheap suits. We're talking lawyer-sized budget (with a little help from Mom) priced ensembles for my first year of big-girl work. For the past few years, almost every pair of pants, skirts, or especially dresses I've tried on have been the same size from bust to hips--straight. Now how many women are actually shaped like a deck of cards?! I would love to know how much money I've spent in the past year alone getting pants/skirts/dresses nipped in at the waist (we won't even go into hemming...).

However, any time I try on a vintage dress or skirt, it almost always fits perfectly. It's nipped at the waist but allows room for my bosom and hips. Vintage dresses are generally well-proportioned for my shape. I've always said that I was born 50 years too late, and maybe this is the proof in the pudding. Have women's bodies changed shape over the decades? Or are designers just getting lazy and selling the same stuff they slap on their models? Why can't I find ONE DRESS that is fitted at the waist???

I can only draw 2 conclusions from my little rant:

1. I'm so glad my mom just bought a nice sewing machine so she can start doing the dirty work!

2. Clothing companies only want to design for the "tall-skinnies." My shape is "out" and boy-like bodies are in. For women.

Not trying to enact systemic change in the fashion industry, just try to blow off some steam and find some good work attire. I have always been proud of my curves, and I've never had complaints from the fellas. I wish designers would take a survey of what real women are shaped like and design for the rest of us.

Tagged by H.

2008-10-15T08:42:00.009-04:00

Yup, it's a meme. Whoo hoo! No, seriously, thanks to H. for allowing me to share 7 random things you don't know about me:

1. I had a serious problem with compound words as a child. My favorite color was "pinkhot" and my dog lived in a "housedog." I was a hot mess. My mom notified the learning disability teacher to prepare a seat for me in his class. I have no idea how I outgrew this.

2. I frequently daydream about throwing my law degree out a window and opening a small bakery/pie/coffee shop. Nothing too big, but just my own little enterprise. I will never actually do this because I have a huge fear that it will flop & I will be in debt and out of work.

3. My dog truly is my alter ego. We have the same weird habits, we are stubborn, we love to be outside but hate humidity or temperatures over 90 degrees, we like the warm spot left on the bed after someone gets up (for her, it's when I get up; for me, I used to do this with S.). Sometimes I am freaked out by how similar we are. Could my "soul mate" (ick, boo) be a dog??? (Further evidence that I will never again have a date.)

4. Among the random chores I LOATHE are: filling the Brita pitcher, taking out the recyclables, organizing my Sherman-tank sized jewelry box, and yes, replacing the roll of toilet paper. I will go to great & ridiculous lengths to avoid these tasks.

5. Although I have given almost $80K to the University of Louisville, I feel zero allegiance to the school. On the other hand, I will be so terribly disappointed if my hypothetical children don't want to go to Vanderbilt.

6. I spent the past 25 years worrying that I wasn't good enough & everyone else was more worthy than me. This is the first time in my life I have been comfortable with my body, hair, face, opinions, intellect, and who I am as a person...and I am single, unemployed, and in massive debt. Hmm...

7. Once I love someone, I will love them forever. Even people I have sworn I will never speak to again.

So there you go. It's like my own version of Post Secret! I am tagging Bagel, Lauren, Victoria, Jessica, and what the hell, Lucie, you can do this twice! ;)

Dear Employer With Dental & Eye Insurance, Please Hire Me.

2008-10-14T23:43:00.000-04:00

DISCLAIMER to potential employers: We all need a laugh, right? Please hire me despite this post. Please. PLEASE.

It's no secret that these are scary times to be looking for a job. Especially scary when you want to enter the law-meets-public-service field and a certain "Maverick" says that it's time to suspend and/or cut the public service sector. The job hunt is freaking me out. Therefore, in my best effort to sell myself, I've created the PERFECT cover letter:

Dear Non-firm, Kumbayah-loving, low-paying Public Service Employer,

If you do not provide eye or dental insurance, go ahead and stop reading. I'm going to need to get this cavity filled eventually, and I certainly can't fix it on the measly salary you listed on your website. And my special contact lenses that aren't special enough to fall under my current insurance plan are cutting into my budget for apartment decorating and shoes. So if you can't give me some good benefits, throw this one in the can now. But please take note of my tasteful and expensive resume paper first--I spent at least $40 and 40 minutes picking it out.

My name is painfully common, but let me show you how uncommon and non-WASPy I am. I mean, I am a middle-class white girl from the Midwest with ancestors from Western Europe and was raised in a protestant church, but I'm different, I swear! I took a few "cultural perspectives" classes in college so I know about diversity. Also, I can speak Spanish, so that means I can totally relate to the underprivileged, underpaid Latino immigrants who came to our country to find a better life but really just find discrimination and heartbreak and lower-than-minimum-wage jobs. But I'm blonde, so I also relate to their sense of discrimination. Those blonde jokes are rough!

My resume lists lots of skills and experiences which sound really, really good on paper but which didn't teach me all that much. My former job? Hogwash. I spent most of my time avoiding my control-freak boss and disciplining college students against my will. And that coveted research position? I mostly just check legal citations while watching episodes of "Forensic Files" or Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations." Granted, I've had some great summer legal positions, so please ask me a lot about those experiences so I can go off about our foster care system or how much better produce is in Chile.

Wait, what? You want to know about my grades? I'm not prepared to talk about my grades! Ok, here's the thing--first year was really, really rough. I just couldn't handle all the arrogance and self-importance and bitchiness...and yes, I'm talking about the professors. How am I supposed to care about res judica when the Prof is distracting me with her Soul Glo hair and nasty stares? Not to mention that I took my spring semester finals with a 48-hour migraine and walking pneumonia. But never fear, I've now figured out the system! I borrow prior students' outlines & archived past exams from the law school and memorize them in time for the exam. Now I'm doing just fine! See how much I've learned?

I have also spent considerable time researching the proper code of conduct for attorneys. I can consume mulitple glasses of wine during a business lunch and still assume an air of professionalism. I also have considerable practice drinking entire bottles of wine at home while I "work." Do not worry, I never ever drive after drinking, and I don't make a habit of participating in illegal activity (unless it involves jaywalking or parking tickets). But I am well-versed in judicial schmoozing and sucking up to those in positions of authority in general. I have perfected my "yes-ma'am-whatever-you-say" smile as I secretly scream profanities in my head. Additionally, I look good in a suit and can walk easily in 4-inch heels.

Above all, I am an excellent baker and frequently make cookies and pastries for my co-workers and office events. Even if I have no idea what I should be doing at my desk, I will guarntee that you will never go hungry!

If the above information didn't make you want to hire me, let me try one last tactic: PLEASE PLEASE give me a job because my student loan debt is astronomical. PLEASE.

I promise to be the best attorney you've ever had and only check my personal e-mail 10x a day at work. And no more Facebook (unless it's an emergency, of course).

Looove,
Katie, your soon-to-be-new-hire, as long as you have dental.

Lazy Sunday

2008-10-12T17:53:00.002-04:00

After a law school week from you-know-where, I decided to today today off. My own version of Lazy Sunday. I have done absolutely no law school related work today.

FYI, typing that sentence was amazingly gratifying.

Here's what I have done today:

1. Read the papers (L'ville Courier Journal and Washington Post), attempted the crossword

2. Had catch-up phone conversations with S. and my good friend H.

3. Went to the grocery and planned my meals for the week.

4. Made broth for vegetable soup

5. Made applesauce

6. Made challah--a long and tedious process but the result is sooo worth it!

7. Made the infamous jam cookies

8. Completed my laundry, folded clothes, dusted/vacuumed my apartment

9. Planned my outfits for the week, including my interview suit for Wednesday

10. Spent some extra cuddle time with Lulu.

Just my own little version of a lazy Sunday. :)

Touch

2008-10-08T23:30:00.011-04:00

A funny thing happen at my internship this week....A co-worker hugged me.

As most of my friends know, I'm not a touchy-feely type. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my friends and family. Probably more than they realize. Maybe even to stalker-esque capacity. I love the wonderful people I am lucky enough to have in my life. I'm just not so crazy about touching them.

I should re-state that. I don't touch the people in my life. It's not that I am opposed to touching/hugging my friends and family, I just don't do it on a regular basis.

Perhaps that is an odd thing, but not if you come from my clan. Actually, I am the most touchy person in my family. Other than hugging my parents when we say goodbye, which are usually initiated by me, I can't really think of an instance in which my family hugs. It's just not our thing. That is absolutely no reflection of how we feel about each other--we are incredibly close. We're just rather reserved folks, I suppose. True WASPs.

The first time I met my friend C's mom, she enveloped me in one of the biggest hugs I've ever received. I have to admit, I was freaked out. Those are the types of hugs I reserve for friends I haven't seen in years or my Lucy-dog (yes, I hug my dog more than my family. So what? She loves it). I received a similar hug from a co-worker, whom I've only known for a month, after I delivered a bag of baked goodies to her office. I was completely taken aback.

However, the reason I was throw off was not because the hug wasn't welcome. It was because it was so very welcome. That hug made me realize how infrequently I touch or am touched by other people. Ignoring the recent funeral (which ranks right up there with weddings for hug-giving), I cannot even remember the last time I hugged someone (although I'm sure C. hugged me last time I saw her!).

As a single girl, maybe this is just a fact of life: no man, no hugging. Touch is a metaphor for intimacy--as Americans, we generally only touch those people who we care about and are close to (Note: Other cultures seem to avoid this pitfall). Hugging is amazingly restorative and healing--the literal reaching out and giving of comfort. It's a simple way to say, "Hey, I care about you enough to risk smelling your unwashed hair and stale perfume." And it's so damn simple. So simple, in fact, that I didn't even realize I missed it.

Sans man, I suppose I'll have to rely upon random co-workers and C. to give me a little bit of feel-good lovin' every once in awhile. Even for a girl of my WASPy background, that's a depressing little reality. So I'll be grateful for those random hugs I receive, even when they come from unexpected sources.

Locker Room Etiquette

2008-10-08T13:53:00.004-04:00

We've all been here before: After a workout, you're trying to wrestle out of a sweaty sports-bra or swimsuit and doing your best to keep the girly parts covered, when you turn around, there she is--The Naked Woman.

As someone who has spent a vast amount of hours in women's locker rooms, most of them before the age of 18, I have often found myself wondering what the proper etiquette is for changing in a locker room. Should you wiggle yourself into a stall, writhing in and out of your clothing while trying not to drop you clean underpants in the toilet? Note: if you're in a locker room with few stalls, this will also garner some pretty evil glares from the ladies who just want to go potty but were forced to wait on you for over five minutes. Or is it better to do some version of the towel-t-shirt swap while staying as physically close to your locker as possible? I always end up flashing my derriere at someone anyway, but this is generally the one I try. I ust say, I've got it down to an art at this point. But then...we have the naked ladies who just put it all out there.

Today, I had just finished drying my hair in the bathroom portion of the locker room, and when I walked back to the changing/locker area, there were not one but TWO naked ladies. One was slathering on lotion, and the other was brushing her hair. Ok...please tell me WHY you cannot do those things AFTER you at least put on your undies and bra? I'm no prude, and I prance around all day in my undies...in the privacy of my own home. However, I grew up in a modest-enough house to expect NOT to see some random woman's who-ha in the middle of the day. To top it off, these 2 ladies in particular continued their entire getting-ready routine (lotion, hair-fixing, make-up) sans any type of garment. Totally comfortable and completely oblivious.

Don't get me wrong, you have the right to be comfortable. If I could get away with it, I'd wear my dirty, ugly, old-as-hell, size XL Vandy sweatpants to work every day. And I understand that putting on clothes after a locker-room shower is miserable (still sweating, etc). But there is also something to be said for respecting the comfort of those around you. If you are doing the naked-walk all over the locker room, I feel like I'm being ambushed--don't look over there! Shit, she moved, don't look left! Ahh!

Maybe I just have some random hang-up or eerily repressed feelings. Am I just being a prude?Maybe I need to join the sexual revolution Part Deux. So please tell me, what's a girl to do post-workout? I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions!

It's Over, But I'm Not Supposed To Talk To You.

2008-10-07T21:44:00.016-04:00

Lately, I have had the great joy of rediscovering something I never even realized I'd lost: My very best friend. Otherwise known as the Ex (whom I'll call S).

Why is it that, after a break-up, all of our friends tell us to stay away, not talk to the bastard, to act strong and happy and carefree? Good riddance to him. Stay away. And above all, don't you DARE call him crying and asking what went wrong and askingwhy can't we be together and saying I still love you. DO NOT DO THIS.

But what if blowing off the recent ex means that you also have to say goodbye and break ties with your best friend? Yes, I lost a boyfriend--a relationship, a companion, a person I could envision growing old with--but losing the friendship? To me, that's the unbearable part. I just cannot say a forever goodbye to the person who has been my confidant for the past five years and who knows the real, true Kate.

I've received a lot of slack from friends for my continued relationship with S. We still talk almost every day--I call him when I'm upset, I ask him about his job, we talk about the election, etc. All the same things we used to talk about, but without the pressure of trying to make a relationship work. And somehow, with that big, fat stress-bomb out of the picture, we've regained our friendship. I could not be happier. After all the drama, we finally found our way back to us. S & K: secret junk food eaters, nature lovers, travelers, amateur chefs, long drives with great conversations, best friends.

So why do people keep telling me to cut him out of my life? I realize that S and I's past track record doesn't make us overly trustworthy (on, of, on, off, but i still love him, never again, etc.). But no worries, dear friends. I'm not crawling back to him. I am not delusional enough to think that it just-maybe-might-work-again-just-one-more-time. I realize that it is over. What I cannot realize, or accept, is that I am "supposed" to not want to talk to him or turn to him.

This is the only way I know how to explain it: He's my person.

Soul-mate, schmoul-mate, but S is the one person who truly, 100% gets me. And I can predict his every move before he even thinks about it. I can truly tell him anything, whether it's that I think Mike Rowe is really hot or that I'm out of clean underwear or that I miss him. No judgments. Just understanding.

It's no secret that the past month has been a rough one for me. Through it all, one person was consistently and unfaltering there for me: S. He was there at 7 a.m. and 2 a.m. and 5 p.m. He let me babble about anything. He let me cry, whine, bitch, yell, sob, curse, and cry even more. Not only was he there, but he was supportive. He suffered a similar loss while we were in college, and it is beyond comforting to talk to someone who understands what happens when emotional roller coaster meets 2 papers, 1 research job, 1 internship, 5 classes, job searching, and Lucy-dog's attitude. When most of my other friends flaked out (admittedly, I'm not big on asking for help), he was there.

Pardon me while I break the break-up taboo. I will not hate him, I will not call him names, and I will not bash him to my friends. I haven't forgotten why we broke up, but I do remember why we were great friends before we ever dated. I realize that not all break ups are this amicable, but I am so grateful that ours is. I'm so incredibly grateful to have my best friend back.

I realize that things will change once we start dating other people, but for now I'm relishing the return of S & K, the BFF edition.

Mood swings

2008-10-04T21:22:00.024-04:00

I won't even pretend that my emotions haven't been all over the place lately.

I DO NOT recommend (or wish upon my very worst enemy) the experience of being in your final year of law school with more work to do than hours in the day, looking for a job in a miserable economy...and then simultaneously losing your boyfriend of four and a half years and your perfect, wise, irreplaceable grandmother. It's flat-out miserable.

Now, I realize how very lucky I am. In 8 months, I will possess a law degree. I still have both my of parents, with whom I am very, very close, and the best sister on earth. My dog is practically perfect in every way. I've got great, funny, and clever friends. I have a (very nice) roof over my head, a car, a computer, etc. etc. I am super healthy. Heck, my football team is even doing great this year (Go 'Dores!). While I generally despise this term, there is no denying that I have a very blessed life. I am one lucky girl.

But I can't seem to stop myself from bursting into tears in the baking aisle at the grocery. Or staring into space instead of listening in class. Or seeing a disheveled-looking couple getting breakfast at Panera on Sunday morning, and thinking, "that used to be us." And then I feel guilty for being sad because I have so many good things in my life. I have never been allowed to feel sorry for myself, and now is not the time to start.

My grief over the loss of my grandmother is understandable to me. It's ok to cry over the fact that I never learned how to can apple butter. That seems normal, right? I know I have the right to be sad about her passing, and I know it will take time to get used to missing her. But it's the sadness over the break-up that's really getting under my skin. Why do I get so sad about those couples at Panera when I have zero desire to hop back on the relationship bandwagon? Why is it so painfully obvious that (literally) all my friends a getting married? And why do I care so much that the only people who hit on me are 16 year-olds and scary old men???

I would be lying if I said I didn't have a fear of being that old women with too many cats (err, bassets) and an over-sized garden, who spends Christmas at the soup kitchen because she's got nowhere else to go. So perhaps I'm just freaked out by the possibility of perpetual singledom. Or maybe I'm slightly jealous when my friends throw around terms like "We're going to..." or "I get so mad at insert-significant-other's-name-here when he forgets to..." I mean, who doesn't want someone else around to take out the trash and tell you that it's ok when you screw up at work? Not to mention the benefits of having a built-in date to the inevitable glut of weddings/parties/alumni events which require attendance.

However, someone recently pointed out to me that perhaps I'm having a overload of loss lately. I will never be a student again, I will forever call the Ex "my ex," and I am slowly learning to say "My grandmother was" instead of "my grandmother is." A loss of one thing tends to magnify the loss of another thing, and the only way to get over those losses are to embrace them, acknowledge them, and then find a way to push through and move on.

I get out of bed every morning and go through the motions of my day. I go to work and enjoy my job. Every once and awhile, I hear something interesting in class. I go to the gym and feel elated after a good workout. I even laugh. I am not unhappy in a general sense. Amazingly, I feel like I've got my shit together more than I ever have. I know that I'm going to be ok. And even if I am that woman with the 20 dogs and a dusty old house, I'll be happy. I know that.

I just have to get through this hard time of grief and loss. I have to push through it and remember how lucky I am. I have to find some way to remember the things I once had, to know that I am a better person for having them, and to remember that I am still whole even without them. I have to find a way to get up in the morning and feel okay again.

And you know where I think I'll start? By canning some apple butter. By myself.

Sideways

2008-09-28T23:20:00.003-04:00

The only way I know how to sum up my feelings lately is from a song:

You know it ain't easy

For these thoughts to leave me

There's not words to describe it

In French or in English

Well, diamonds they fade

Flowers they bloom

And I'm telling you

These feelings won't go away

They've been knocking me sideways

They've been knocking me out lately

Whenever you come around me

These feelings won't go away

I keep thinking in a moment that

Time will take them away

But these feelings won't go away.

Sideways, Citzen Cope

What's in a Thing?

2008-09-20T22:25:00.008-04:00

Lately, "things" have taken on a whole new meaning.

Once you lose someone you love, things become very important. A grocery list isn't just a layout of items, it's a way to remember that person's handwriting. A ring isn't just a ring, it's a symbol of that person you can carry with you every day. A snapshot becomes a precious commodity. Even little things like spoons (my grandmother had very particular attitudes toward regular spoons and soup spoons) and fuzzy socks (we shared a mutual love of fuzzy house socks) and games (Scrabble) become a source of memories and rumination.

For my family in particular, certain foods are now sacred. My grandmother's love of jelly became a joke in our family: If you came to visit grandma, you were probably going home with a jar of jelly. I always had one jar in my refrigerator and another ready and waiting in the freezer. In the recent power outage (which still hasn't been restored....), I lost the entire contents of my fridge, including my last jar of jelly made by my grandmother. This was enough to send me into a fit of racking sobs for 15 minutes.

Other things will cause me to stop in my tracks and reflect upon her: red roses (while she loved all flowers, these were her favorite), hummingbirds (she could watch them for hours), boxes of chocolates (a necessary luxury...she could savor a box for a month), making and eating pie (a shared hobby...we loved fruit pies and hated pumpkin), going to the beauty parlor, vegetable soup...and on and on and on....

I have been staying at my grandmother's house, spending time with my grandpa and pretending to do schoolwork. And something about being surrounded by her things is so incredibly comforting to me. Sleeping in her bed, wearing her pajamas, seeing her pictures and handwritten address book, the knick-knacks she loved....all of those things make me feel like she's still here, at least a little bit. I constantly remember her because her memory is literally everywhere. Maybe that's morbid, but it comforts me.

But I know tomorrow I will have to go back to my big, empty, powerless apartment in Louisville. Normally, I love returning to my apartment because it truly has become my home. But this time, I don't want to leave. I want to be here, with her things. It sounds ridiculous, but I feel close to her if I'm surrounded by everything she loved. Going back to Louisville will be a reality check--she's not here anymore. I can't just pick up the phone and call her, I can't just hop in the car and drive to her house. And as I sit in that big and empty apartment, there won't be as many reminders of her.

My mom and I had planned to make jelly tomorrow at my grandma's house...until we learned that she had made jelly this past summer while we were on vacation. She was going to give it to us at Christmas.

So maybe it's just a few jars of jelly. But you had better bet that I will cherish every last bite, just as she would have.

The Best Teacher I Ever Had

2008-09-16T11:53:00.006-04:00

It's taken me several days to figure out what to say here. On Monday, I lost my true role model, my grandma.

Suffice to say, I have nothing witty or cute to say right now. I just want to share the lessons I learned from her that I will always carry with me.

1. Be confident, but humble. My grandmother was not one to take praise, and she would shrug off most compliments she received. And yet, she had a quite confidence and anyone who met her knew that she was comfortable in her skin and knew her capabilities. I hope to find this balance.

2. Be selfless. If I had to choose one word to describe my grandmother, this would be it. After she turned 90, she finally started to let me people help her, even if it was more out of necessity than willingness. She would do anything to help another person. Anything. Even in her last days, when she was in the hospital and struggling, she was concerned about my Mom getting enough sleep, my schoolwork, and my sister's comfort. Down to the last moment she was worried about others.

3. Be strong. No one can ever compare to the amount of strength my grandma had. She raised her brothers and sisters, worked during WWII, raised a family, worked, raised her grandchildren, and never once complained. She showed her strength the most during times of grief. When her youngest brother (who was almost like a child to her) passed away, she held her family together. We often called her "command central" because she was the glue in the family. She kept us going. She was stronger than all of us put together and then some.

4. You are better than no one else, and no one is better than you. She truly lived as her brother's keeper...and yet she had the quiet confidence. She constantly told my sister and I how we could do anything we wanted to, as long as we didn't step on toes along the way. She wanted us to believe that we could be successful, but she also wanted us to reach that success with integrity.

5. Family first. A job is just a job, money doesn't make you happy. He who has the most stuff...just has a lot of stuff. Rich people aren't any happier than we are. Family and friends are the things that really bring happiness and support. Whenever I needed to be brought back down to earth (especially during my Vandy days), she could do it. From her, I have learned to live more simply.

6. Don't cuss, and don't talk badly about others. I can truly say that I never heard her say a curse word...or a bad word about someone else. To her, there was no reason for either. The worst thing I ever heard her say was about Giada de Laurenis: "I don't think think that smile is genuine."

7. If all else fails, eat some dessert. Until her very last day, she was cheered by the prospect of dessert. Even if it is the worst day, a sweet will make it better. She really didn't care if she was a 10 instead of an 8, she was going to eat her pie and ice cream (as long as it wasn't pumpkin). Life really was sweet for her.

She was truly the best teacher I've ever had. I miss her already.

Time for some dessert...

Bad Attitude...

2008-09-14T23:31:00.002-04:00

...and I don't freaking care.

Short version: I've spent the weekend watching my dear, sweet, strong-as-hell grandmother become helpless and miserable. Meanwhile, I'm watching those who love her fall apart. I don't even have anything astute or poetic to say about it other that it's awful.

There is no point to this post other that to warn my friends to steer far, far away from me. I wouldn't touch me with a 39 1/2 ft. pole. I oscillate between crying, grouchy, fine, hungry, not hungry, flat-out bitchy, needy, stand-offish, and more crying. As Xtopher would say, I'm a hot mess.

So....Don't try to talk to me. It's a mixed bag: I may burst into tears at a word...or I may bite your head off and tell you to f*&^ off. I'm worried that I will be kicked out of my tax class for throwing my textbook at my tough-as-nails prof...or I might just cry...in class...in front of my peers. Fabulous.

If you see me, RUN. Save yourself. You know, like Jenny told Forrest.

Inspiration-less

2008-09-09T10:52:00.005-04:00

I have tried to write this blog post about 20 times, and each time I delete and start over. So I'm just going to say it plain and simple:

I'm stressed.

The weekend began with 2 voicemails from my mother informing me that my 93-year old grandmother, and hero, was admitted to hospital and in the intensive care unit. Needless to say, I ran out of work, went home to get my dog, some clean underwear, and a toothbrush, and drove home as fast as I dared. The rest of the weekend was filled with heart monitors, oxygen levels, ordering food with no salt, and occasionally playing supervisor for my 91 year-old grandfather with dementia. In total, missed 3 classes and got very little school work done. In short, I'm sleep deprived and screwed for my classes, and yet I still feel guilty that I left home to come back to school.

As if school wasn't bad enough, I HATE my income tax class. The professor has an attitude that I despise and I flat-out don't understand it. So it takes me hours each week to do the reading and homework problems (I know...homework + law school = illegal)...and then I still have my other classes to worry about. As of today, I still have not read one word for my international law class, and I think we're on page 300. Oops. That pretty much sums it up about school.

To add to school stress, I am supposed to spend every waking second looking for a job. Considering that I sometimes do not have time to eat (but still am 10 lbs. overweight), I'm not sure how that's going to happen. But each time I get my student loan statement, I am again reminded that I NEED A JOB.

I do have an internship that I love, and I really have no complaints other that it's been a big learning experience as I figure out how to balance school and work. The only downside is that I'm the only law student enough to voluntarily work for free. This does not help my other major stress-out factor...

MONEY. Fixed income + mounting debt = Nuff said.

I have no clothes that fit because I apparently cannot stop putting carbs in my mouth. Which makes my self esteem oh-so high!

Really, I could go on and on and on. Admittedly, I am somewhat whining. I do realize that everyone has similar problems. I do. And I realize that there are much larger issues in the world which are much more important than my measly existence. But I just needed to put it out there that this is not one of my better weeks....

Here's looking forward to a bottle of wine and a better week next week!

Back in the Swim

2008-09-03T11:41:00.002-04:00

For anyone who knows me, you've probably hear my horror stories/glory days about my former life as a swimmer. However, 10 years of chlorination was enough, and I abruptly stopped swimming (at all) when I went to college. I think I could count the number of times I've been in a pool (for fitness only purposes) since I was 19 on one hand.

Until today! Thanks to my wonderful friend Becca, I hopped back in the swim of things this morning. As I write this, my hair is wet, my skin is itchy-dry, and my entire apartment smells like chlorine, my left ear is full of water, and my shoulders hurt. Good Lord I have MISSED THIS FEELING!

Considering that I'm still carrying around those extra 10 lbs. from my Chile excursion (damn bread and potatoes!) I plan on making it a regular event at least a few times a week.

Let's just hope my hair doesn't turn green. And I really don't want back those giant shoulders either.....

Milk vs. Organic Milk

2008-09-02T09:26:00.012-04:00

A while back, my amazing friend Heather was stuck in a dead-end job with a psychotic boss (to say the least). When she finally took her self-respect and left, she had the best leaving line I've ever heard...when the boss begged her not to leave, she retorted, "Honey, this job is the difference between me putting milk and organic milk on the table."

Amazing, right? Right!

Lately I've been thinking about those little quality of life differences: Whole Goods vs. Kroger, Macy's clearance rack v. Ann Taylor, Z-Spa manicure vs. painting my nails at home. More importantly, I've been asking myself how much they really matter.

This year, I have a major decision to make: Firm or Non-Profit/Public Advocacy group? And does choosing one mean the end of any type of career in the other? To hear the law school gods speak is to think the answer is yes. Whether that's true or not isn't really even relevant to my decision...I'm more concerned with the salary choice. Choosing what makes me happy--working for a group dedicated to bettering the lives of others--means choosing milk over organic milk. Actually, when my student loans are factored in, it might mean choosing milk every-other week instead of every week. And no more half-and-half either.

Two things are pointing me toward a definitive decision:

1. When I read job descriptions for firms, I am overwhelmingly bored and have to tell myself, "You could do it for a few years. Really, you can handle 3 or 4 painful, boring, miserable, self-defeating years." But when I read job descriptions at places such as the Southern Poverty Law Center, or at my internship at Legal Aid, I get really excited. I am motivated to work. When I think about the long hours I will inevitably be working, they seem less painful when I have a cause to fight for. Those job descriptions make my eyes light up. Firm descriptions make me look at my bank account and say, "Well, I should...."

2. In Chile, I really learned that living with less is better all around--less complicated, less stressful, less guilt. Do I really need 5 variations of what is essentially the same black pencil skirt? And moreover, does it make me any less of who I am if I have less material things? I think the answer is absolutely not. It's so easy for we women to be swept up in fashion and makeup and good haircuts and having the best party dress. Or at least for me it is. Maybe that's a character flaw of mine. But I'm learning that those things really don't reflect who I am. In Chile, I often went around sans-makeup (ok, ok, I can't give up my mascara) and wearing the same sweater all week. I brought 2 pairs of pants and 6 dress shirts for 5 weeks of work, and the thought, "oh my god! I wore this last week!" never really crossed my mind. In short, my appearance became much less important than the experience I was having. (I could write an entire separate post on this...and just might!)

Those two things should speak volumes to me. Sometimes you just have to take the road that works best for you, even if that road is filled with bumps and devoid of organic milk.

Like all recent law school graduates, I'm positive my first few working years will be full of stress, long hours, and nights spent crying into my wine glass (note: two things are certain in law school--you will drink, and you will cry). But at least I will (hopefully) be able to wake up each morning and be proud of the work I'm doing....Even if I have to wear the same skirt and drink black coffee.

Flaky like a biscuit...

2008-08-24T21:58:00.007-04:00

Well, well, well, the native son (ahem, daughter) returns! Ok, so I've technically been back in the U.S. for 3 weeks now, but I've been trying to straighten out my real life before fixing my blog life.

So much has passed since my last post, and I honestly have no direction for what I want to say right now. There is so much to say about the trip, returning, and getting back in the swing of law school. I think I will be proud just to upload a post at all. :)

Returning home was an adjustment, to say the least. I am still saying "permiso" and "disculpe" to random (American) folks. I even freaked out a woman at Whole Foods on my first day back because I opened my mouth to say something and Spanish accidentally came out. Things like that happened several times during my first week back. Also, I made major trouble re-adjusting to the lovely Kentucky heat and humidity. I don't even need to mention the major body work my winter-weary skin needed, but let's just say that I've been blowing through a bottle of lotion and a razor every week!

The hardest change has been getting back in the law-school swing of things. I was in denial about the start of classes until I was actually sitting in a classroom listening to my Crim Pro professor welcome us back. Even then, I was out of it. It was a surreal experience in that it was completely familar--same ol' classroom, same face, same heavy books--but yet I felt like it had been years since I last took a law school class. Somehow, my 3 months in Chile felt like 2 years of my life. In those 3 months, I think I grew up a little bit. I stopped being so concerned about the law school "game" and realized that it's up to me to blaze my own path. And that path can take any form I want it to. I honestly, truly don't care about being caught up in the rat race or competing with my high-strung classmates (FYI, my law school friends who are reading this blog are mercifully NOT part of that group).

On that note, two major changes have happened in my legal career: I am now working at Legal Aid (!!!) and I am also doing research on immigration law. Two things that make this gringa very happy!

And the final major life occurrence for me...The REB and I ended our relationship forever. Like Mary J., there will be no more drama. And for now, that's all I care to say about that.

Ok, so that's it for my first post post-Chile. Not very exciting, I know, but this election, my new job, and other recent events are giving me fuel for the fire, folks. No worries...I still need something to entertain me during class!

An apology (to my 3 loyal readers) about the absence...

2008-07-14T21:35:00.003-04:00

...but I just can't seem to find the motivation to sit in front of my computer when there is so much to do in CHILE!!!

I promise to be better about updating this measly little blog...when law school resumes. I'll be daydreaming of Chile, so I can post memories of my adventures then.

A few short updates:

1. My Spanish has GREATLY improved! I am nowhere near fluent (you would have to live abroad at least a year, or more, to achieve that) but I definitely hold my own. I've finally mastered the art of understanding the frustrating Chilean accent (they constantly drop the last syllable of almost all words, and have different vocabulary for almost everything). I truly feel like I could have some sort of intelligible conversation in Spanish with almost anyone now.

2. I still haven't figured out where I'm going to travel on my last week here. Options include: San Pedro de Atacama, Chile; Cuzco/Macchu Picchu, Peru; northern Brazil (BEACH); or Mendoza, Argentina with a little skiing in Portillo mixed in. Sounds lazy, but after experiencing almost ZERO summer this year, I thing I would prefer anywhere with a beach. However, money + safety = ???? Any thoughts?

3. My job is fairly unremarkable--some things I like, some things I really don't like. But overall, it has been incredibly interesting and I feel like I have a leg-up on comparative and international law. My "jefe" is a conundrum, to say the least, and keeps me very busy. At least he's taking my to the Supreme Court and to see a session of Congress next week! Yay (or boo) for Chilean lawyers and politicians!

4. I LOVE LOVE LOVE it here. I love the lifestyle, the focus on family, the food (healthy!), and most of all, the deep respect for enjoying life. Chileans are hard-working, no doubt, but they appreciate the small things: taking time out of a work day to have coffee with a friend, taking the time to walk places, etc. Chileans ENJOY life, rather than push through it like most Americans I know. If anything, I hope I incorporate some of that vision into my own life when I return.

5. And speaking of returning...I am starting the process of alllll those mixed feelings. Can't wait to see my dog/Mom/friends, but I will mourn this place for certain. This is going to take up an entire post...more later.

I have 2 more weeks left to live/work in Viña del Mar, 1 week of traveling with my family (should be SUPER interesting...), and 1 week of traveling on my own. Only a month left in Chile....que triste!

Hasta luego!!!

I Should Join the Heavy Hitter

2008-06-30T23:36:00.000-04:00

...because I seem to have a knack for witnessing accidents.

Today was rather exceptional, though. I have been terrified of cars and the crazy Chilean drivers since I got here, and today reconfirmed my fears. No lie: I watched a child get hit by a car.

Yup, you read that correctly. I watched as a green sedan came barreling down a residential street and then slammed on its brakes for a short second before hitting a kid. I heard the mother scream, I heard the child cry, and then I watched as the driver sped away. A chileano and I ran after the car trying to get the license number but we couldn't catch the car.

A hit-and-run, in Chile, right in front of my face.

Now I am even more paranoid about crossing the streets and walking near the road. Not only are these drivers CRAZY, impatient, selfish, and careless, but they get away with it. I have never seen a single speed limit sign here, and I've never seen a car pulled over (even though I've seen SEVERAL crazy drivers do incredibly stupid things). My bus ride each morning is like playing Russian Roulette: will we hit the car in front of us, or won't we? It makes me wish I was Catholic so I could say Hail Marys or at least take comfort in some rosary beads.

I know we gripe about getting tickets in the U.S., but at least we have someone keeping an eye on drivers. Another another thing: It took the ambulance at least 10 minutes to arrive, so I truly hope I don't have an accident with serious injuries because I'd probably kick it before I get any help. Luckily, the kid wasn't bleeding, but I'm pretty sure his legs were broken. Not really a pleasant thing to witness. Sorry to be such a Debbie-Downer in this post, but I am shaken and stirred, and not in the good way.

I have very few complaints about the way things work in Chile, but now I have something add to the (albeit, short) list: CRAZY ASS PSYCHO DRIVERS.

Thanks to an asshole in a green sedan, I will now have nightmares about getting hit by a car. And when I wake up, I get to take the bus-ride-of-death.

Written with a smirk and smile

2008-06-24T21:12:00.003-04:00

Needless to say, my summer has been quite a bit different than that of my law-school counterparts. While they are cranking out memos/briefs/motions/etc., I have been stumbling my way through the Spanish language, or at least learning enough Chilean slang to know what the men on the street are yelling at me ("Rubia, tienes un poto delicioso!"). While this is an important skill, I've been having a nagging feeling that I need to be doing something a bit more...legal, perhaps. Learning Spanish during your final year of law school is all fun and games until the Bar Exam comes and bites you in the face.

However, this week I commenced my job...and therefore, the most interesting part of this trip: learning the Chilean civil law system. And oooooh how different it is! Just when I think that something is the same as American law, I learn about some new quirk that completely throws me. Por ejemplo:

Chile has a Supreme Court, appellate courts, and local courts for regions (there is no state v. federal system here). Sounds mundane enough. However, the regional "courts" are more like offices where the judge is rarely seen. He/She reads motions and rules on them completely solo. Still kind of mundane, yes? Here's the best part: all of files, including each party's motions, judicial rulings, etc. are kept in the local court, and you can only look at the file while standing at a counter. An attorney is NEVER allowed to take the file home or have copies. Therefore, your entire legal strategy is based of handwritten notes taken in 2 minutes. And if you take the file past a certain red line behind the counter, there is a major financial penalty. Personally, I can't imagine responding to a motion without the file in front of me, but Chilean attorneys do it all the time. However, the craziest part is that the files are literally SEWN togeter. With thread. No computers, no online system, not even a file folder. Hundreds of pieces of paper...sewn together. A-mazing.

And I could go on and on about the major/minor differences. Of course, the biggest difference is that case law has little importance here, but anytime a new code is released, people run like mad to get a copy of the new code. For the law kids: Remember pocket parts? Chilean lawyers live for 'em.

For those of you who are not law-dorks (I have about 3 readers, one of whom is my non-lawyer Mom...so this one's for you, Mom), this probably sounds very boring. But my point is that I am learning an entirely different system of law. I'm learning how many South American countries, as well as France and Germany, use their legal system. So maybe I'm not cranking out memos for super-exciting insurance fraud cases, but I am learning how a vast majority of the world operates under civil law. I'm getting an in-depth comparison of the American legal system with civil law systems, and I'm learning what's great about our system and what's not. I'm learning about all the drama we could live without. In short, I'm gaining REAL knowledge about the rest of the world...outside the detestable law-school box.

Not to mention, I'm traveling to gorgeous little pueblos, eating delicious food, gaining proficiency in another language, and making new (hot Chilean) friends. I wouldn't trade my experience for a corner desk at FBT. Ever.

In fact, given the option between a cushy American firm job and a job at my tiny little office with no heater, a coffee-pot straight from the 1970's, and three people (Sr. Caballero, Gonzalo, and I) crammed into an office the size of my bedroom...I wouldn't even have to think twice.

Quien necesita una oficina grande cuando todo el mundo esta afuera???

(If you haven't noticed, it's official: Y'all have lost me to Chile. Chau!)

Regrets and then some

2008-06-19T11:59:00.007-04:00

The thing about hanging out with 20 year-olds is that it all-too-ofen makes me pause and reflect on what I was doing at 20...and why I wasn't galavanting around Chile like these little chiquillas.

I am the oldest person in our little Adelante group by 3 years, and most of the time it doesn't bother me. I adore the girls I've met here, and we get along just dandy (I'm trying not to decide if that means they are over-mature or I'm under-mature...). However, certain conversations have caused me to regret my own choices I made at 20.

I did not:

--study abroad

--travel abroad during the summer

--go on elaborate spring breaks

--spend a semester at another university

Looking back, I really regret not doing these things. There was always some excuse: A boyfriend, my family, the need to take a certain class, lack of money etc. But the real reason I didn't do any of these thing is pure, blatant FEAR. I was scared to death to push myself outside of my own comfort zone. Going on trips with my family was great, but the thought of going abroad on my own--completely solo--terrified me. And sure, money was a legitimate excuse, but not one that I couldn't have remedied. I could have made it work, but the fear overpowered my desire to try.

Now, I feel that I've missed my chance. It's my last truly "free" summer. When I return to Louisville in August, I'll have to hunker down for my final year of law school, only to turn around and hunker down for the bar exam. And then...work begins. For the rest.of.my.life. The End.

I hate that I feel this way. The sweet little 20-something girls tell me that it's not too late, etc. I would have said the same thing at their age, before I was saddled with school loans and an advanced degree that is trapping me into a lifestyle I don't think I want. I've always wanted to join the Peace Corps, but if I do that after law school, I'll basically be ruining my legal career. The same can be said for practicing law in another country. I don't know many firms that would say, "Sure, come on board with us! You've never really practiced law and spent the last two years living in the Ecuadorian swamp, but you'll still be a fabulous lawyer!" How it wish it were so. Unfortunately, the legal community is unforgiving and unimpressed with a mid-20's life crisis.

And so I guess I'll just have to live with the choices I've made. I pride myself on being optimistic, and I don't like to write Debby-downer posts on this blog...but I'm feeling pretty angry at myself lately. Yes, I know, I can always travel abroad. But it's not the same as living somewhere different. My hateful lawyer-job will probably only give me 10 paid vacay days, and a week in Peru is not going to give me the same satisfaction as living there for several months. And so, ladies and gents, I've trapped myself yet again. Here's your bed, Kate, lie down it in. You can't go back.

I guess the old song is true: I don't regret the things I've done, only the things I didn't.

Apparently, I'm a Faux-Minority

2008-06-12T21:26:00.002-04:00

Over-sensitive white folks, be warned: I am in no way trying to relate to being a minority in the U.S. Read before judging. Tranquilla! But by all means, judge if you see fit. --K

Never before have I been in the minority, at least not looks-wise. It's an entirely new experience that I am still analyzing and over-analyzing. Being a blonde in America del Sur is enlightening, to say the least. In the interest of fairness, I should note that I am a foreign-tourist minority, and I am not living in a country where my kind have been routinely persecuted and oppressed. My ancestors weren't ever in slavery, and I haven't missed opportunities because of my race/nationality. Quite the opposite in fact: I am immediately thought of as semi-elite because of my "very American" look.

[A quick note on that: I seem to be dumb enough to think that Americans are not a homogenous people. I thought that we (uh, white Americans, that is) don't have an identifiable look. WRONG. Chileans can pick out an American in 2 seconds...even the Americans with more "latino" coloring. I'm still trying to figure out what our common look is, but the important part is that we white folk are apparently homogenous. Intriguing.]

My life here is surrounded in stares: people staring at me as I leave the house, people starting at me on the metro/micro bus, people starting at me in restaurants, etc. Maybe I'm just hyper-sensitive (entirely possible), or maybe Chileans just don't think that staring is rude (but smiling at someone on the street is?!). I've almost gotten used to the staring, but I almost lost it two days ago. As I was waiting to cross the street, a man was so blatantly staring at me and giving me the once over that I almost yelled "Stare harder, jerk! Yes I'm rubia!" I decided this was not a good representation of my nice-little-girl upbringing, so I refrained. Not to mention, the man was dressed in lawyer-ish clothes and he could work at my firm. Once a law student, always a law student...even 5000 miles away from home.

The most difficult and different feeling is looking around any given area--bus stop, museum, restaurant, etc.--and realizing that NO ONE ELSE looks like you. Given that, in the States, I am an average-sized, average-looking white woman, I have never before had this experience. It's not necessarily a negative feeling, just...incredibly isolating. And the stares aren't malicious or hateful, but more curious. Why are you on my metro train, gringrita? My sister said it best: It's like when black folks visit Huntingburg. It's just plain odd to see an apple in a bowl of oranges. Disappointing but true. People love to stare at something different, simply because it's different.

So while I've gotten a small taste of minority-hood, I can't forget the fact that I'm a privileged "minority." I'm visiting this country because my skin tone, in all hemispheres, has allowed me the good fortune to go to college, go to graduate school, and earn enough money to travel. I'm a minority because of my privilege. I've made myself into a "minority." Nothing gives me the right to feel sorry for myself, and I don't. If anything, I have a perpetual reminder of my ridiculously good fortune on this planet, and also a reminder that I have that good fortune because of the persecution of others, both on this continent and in North America.

Here's to being a faux-minority in the forgotten part of America. It's good medicine for this gringa.

FINALLY!

2008-06-04T23:35:00.001-04:00

I just had to share my excitement--I FINALLY was able to talk to my family tonight! I talked my sister's ear off for over 30 minutes, and I even got to talk to the REB for a few minutes.

Thanks to my brilliant brother-in-law, we have finally solved the Chilean cell phone issue! YAY for modern communication!

An American in Chile, o en otras palabras, una gringrita

2008-06-04T21:07:00.005-04:00

First of all, I feel I should apologize for my last post, which was a complete Debbie Downer. I wrote the post at the end of a very long and frustrating day--not a good idea. But it must have been my rock-bottom day, because I am now officially LOVING Chile. I've had several great experiences already, and I have grand plans for many more.

My reasons for loving Chile are many: The food--I have yet to having something that is "American," or something I haven't liked. The Chilenos themselves--ridiculously nice and very interested in American culture. They have a great way of questioning certain American practices without being rude or insulting. And as long as you TRY to talk Spanish, they are happy with you. The lifestyle--late to rise (vs. American standards; here, a common time to leave for work is 9 a.m.), late to bed, and enjoying everything. There is no great rush to get anywhere, and eating is a social event, not just a time to fill your belly. All in all, the people are easy going and happy with life.

I could go on and on and on, but that's not the point of this post. The point is, my friends, I am definitely an American. A few events have pointed this out to me:

Utilities are sacred here. Turning on a light is an event, and you only do so when it's absolutely necessary. And god forbid that you should forget to turn one out. Chisto mio! But utilities are conserved out of a great love for the environment; rather, they are conserved because they cost almost 3x as much as in the U.S. Needless to say, Chileans are conservative with the goods. That doesn't really bother me, but this does: cold and short showers. I think showering has become my least favorite time of day. Also, 5 people share 1 bathroom, so time in the bathroom is also a hot commodity. I've decided that my return to the states in August will be celebrated by locking myself in the bathroom and taking a LONG, HOT shower. Very long, very warm.

Chileans don't have to have an end goal when walking out the door. They just like to walk. Don't get me wrong, that's a great thing. I've been on several treks already where the only point was to see the "cerros" (hills) in Valparaíso. The part that bothers me is that they are THREE HOUR WALKS. I'm sorry, the American in me needs a goal. Are we going to see some gorgeous site outside? Are we going to dinner? Are we going to meet someone? During the most recent three hour "walk," I found these questions racing through my head. And Jonathan, my guide, merely wanted to take me on a walk to show me the city at night. I tried my hardest to push my pushy American thoughts aside, but they kept creeping up again. So I did the next best thing--I recognized the thoughts for what they are and tried to concentrate on just enjoying the moment. And once I did that, I truly enjoyed our walk. However, next time Jonathan asks if I want to go on a walk, I'm going to ask where we're going and why. Forgive me, I was born in the EEUU.

All in all, I think I'm starting to blend in better. Minus the whole people-staring-at-me-on-the-bus thing. Although I must say that everyone is very polite, and no one yells out "gringa, gringa!" (another very American stereotype of Latino men). But I'm almost getting used to the staring. It's a bit difficult for we Americans to understand, because many different types of people live in our country. We may stare at someone because he/she is wearing odd clothing, or because they have a green mohawk. But for the most part, we're taught that it's rude to stare at someone because of they way they look. In Chile, starting is totally acceptable if you are literally the ONLY person with blonde hair and green eyes on a Metro train of 200 people. They don't mean to be rude, they're just intrigued, I guess.

I realize that these posts are very fragmented and have no real depth. My goal over the next week is to find a more centered-route for this blog...sort of a unified purpose. Or maybe I'll just embrace the Chileno in me and just walk along.

Hasta luego, mis vidas.

Soy vieja, no?

2008-06-02T22:13:00.002-04:00

I am so tired I can hardly write this. Running around town with 20 year-olds is apparently too much for me!

Today was my first day at the language school, and it went really well. I really like my teacher, and the other students are very nice...and very young. I have planned to go out with them every OTHER time they go out, because that will still probably be 3-4 times a week. These kids and their energy! Also, we got another American student at our house today, named Paul. If I do not kill him before the month is up, I should get a gold star and a guaranteed pass into heaven. He is part of this big group of students from University of Richmond...all of whom are wonderful...except Paul. I shouldn't say that. Really, he's a nice person. But SO SO SO immature and a typical loud American. I know 20 year-old males are stupid, but he is both annoying (chews with his mouth open, interrupts conversations, etc) and LOUD. On the micro (bus), he was talking so loud in English that literally every person on the bus was looking at us. I wanted to die. Rather, I wanted to slap him, and then die. My whole goal here has been not stand out as an annoying American, and this kid makes it impossible not to stand out. New goal: AVOID AVOID AVOID.

Tonight was actually a very early night by Chilean standards, and even by American standards, for that matter. Tonight, Lisa, Paul, Jonathan (Denis' son who is visiting), and I walked to the apartment of another student, Andrea on the north side of Viña. It was neat to see the other side of the city, but it also made me very glad that we are living on the southeast side. The north/northwest side of Viña is very new and much like any other beach-type city. I prefer our little "barrio" which has more houses and fewer high-rises, and feels much more like a quaint little town instead of a big city. But seeing Valparaíso from across the bay was well worth the trip.

I'm a little frustrated right now for 2 reasons: 1) there is so much i want to write on this blog, but I am so tired and my brain has reached it's maximum output for the day. But yet I'm afraid that I'll forget what I want to say! And 2) My internet (or lack of) and my troubles with Skype are making me crazy. All I want to do is talk to my mom!!!!! For all it's advances, the wi fi in Chile is still sub par. :(

This blog post is miserable. I am too tired to even make sense or sound as positive as I feel. Time for bed, and I'll try to write something more intelligent tomorrow!

Hasta luego!

Addendum to La Primera Dia

2008-05-31T21:17:00.003-04:00

Two notes before I go to bed:

1. My host father is ridiculously nice!!! He is always positive and very lighthearted. Only problem is: I can't understand a word he says! Ok, so I can understand about 1/2 of it. But I've realized that it's his accent--very very soft and hard to decipher. And for some reason, I am soooo intimidated by the thought of speaking in front of him. So, new goal: talk to Denis more!

2. Denis gave me an electric blanket to sleep with and I almost cried tears of joy. This house is a freaking cold sink! It's warmer OUTSIDE than inside!!!! Good thing I have an electric blanket and 2 goosedown comforters on my bed. :)

As for me, it's off to bed. Buenas noches a todos!

Culture Shock

2008-05-31T18:22:00.004-04:00

Day 1 in Chile is coming to an end, and I'm almost at a loss for words. I am a giant emotional jumble. Up down up down up down. Currently, I'm doing well but still a little freaked out. Here are some (simple) observations from today:

1. Sleeping on a place is almost impossible without chemical assistance. I repeatedly woke up uncomfortable, even through my Ambien haze. I felt pretty awake during most of the day (partially thanks to café), but I am crashing fast.

2. I should just get used to always being cold. While it wasn't cold at all outside, the house I'm staying in is FREEZING. Chileans don't have central heat, just space heaters and wood stoves. My house has a gorgeous fireplace, and I do enjoy the (slightly) smoky smell. The temperature here was pretty mild--somewhere is the high 50's/low 60's. However, I was told that today was slightly warmer than usual. :(

3. While Chileans are very concerned about conserving energy because it's expensive, they are certainly not concerned with energy efficiency. A common practice is to crank up the space heater to get a room toasty, and then crack a window when you get too hot. Also, bathrooms do not have vents, so it's necessary to shower with a window cracked. This is MISERABLE if it's the winter. Trust me.

4. NO ONE speaks English AT ALL. Why this is even remotely surprising is beyond me, and yet I was taken aback that the few people I've met know almost zero English words. Considering that my Spanish is apparently awful, it's been very very very difficult to communicate with people. Don't get me wrong--I know enough Spanish to get my point across, but I'm finding it frustrating that I can only understand about 1/3 of what my host family/driver from the airport say to me. Not only is my vocabulary not up to par, but Chileans speak very rapidly and generally speak softly. My host family calls this "the Chilean mumble." And mumbling is the perfect description!

5. As a blonde, I am definitely an anomaly. Not that anything major has happened--I just get looked at A LOT. I should just get out a Sharpie and write "AMERICAN" on my forehead. But I've been assured by several people that it's no big deal as long as I don't act like a stupid American girl. :)

6. And here's the biggest shocker of all: I am scared to death. I was not prepared for this at all! I consider myself open minded and fairly observant, so I really didn't think I would be scared of everything...but I am! I'm terrified of getting hit by a car or bus (which may be a real possibility if I don't look both ways about 20 times before crossing--these drivers are ruthless to pedestrians!), scared that I will never learn the language well enough to feel comfortable in a conversation, worried that my host family thinks I'm an idiot because I don't understand them, decently scared of being mugged, and worried that I will be the most novice Spanish-speaker at the school and therefore make no friends because everyone else is off chatting en español.

I realize that most of these are first-day culture shock observations, but I needed to write them down...maybe this way they'll fade a bit faster. I'm really hoping things get better after Monday when I start classes at the Centro. I guess it's the truth to say that I'm homesick and suffering culture shock. I'm trying to keep a positive attitude but it's been a difficult day. Even though it's not even 7 p.m., I'm headed to bed soon and hopefully I'll walk up renewed and refreshed tomorrow!

I love and miss all of you so much!!!!

The Last Few Days

2008-05-27T20:36:00.002-04:00

Pardon my Español, but AY DIOS MIO!!!!! I leave for Chile in three days! That's frighteningly quick! So here are some rambling last minute thoughts:

Packing is the stress equivalent of waterboarding. Ok, so that's dramatic and disrespectful. I apologize to the poor souls at Gitmo. But packing really makes me wish I could just jump out my window so that I don't have to think about packing any more. Every available surface in my bedroom is covered in potentially necessary items to take on the 10 week journey. Bed is for clothes, bachelor chest is for winter accessories, dresser is for completely random items (read: stuff I know is ridiculous but I don't want to live without, like my manicure set), and my beautiful bedroom mantle is strewn with grown-up lawyer clothes that will come off their hangers at the very last minute. Don't even get me started on toiletries and my bathroom (should I bring my diffuser? etc.). Now I get to cram it all into 2 suitcases. Sigh. I had 3 suitcases laid out, but the REB assures me that 3 suitcases is ridiculous and obscene, even though one of them is smaller than my Vera Bradley duffel bag. He clearly doesn't understand the NEED to take my galoshes and hot rollers. Sigh again.

Even worse than packing is the emotional roller-coaster. Two weeks ago, I was fired up. You could have put my on the plane without any luggage and I would still have been ecstatic. Last week, I cried and thought about canceling. All I could think about was how nice it would be to just stay at home with Mom and Grandma all summer. Just looking at my dog was enough to send me into an hour long crying spell. This weekend, during my favorite holiday, the Indy 500, I completely forgot that I was leaving in under a week. Now, I am super excited about spending my summer in Chile, but I can feel the fear buried underneath the excitement. What if I can't understand anyone? What if my vocabulary is horrible? What if I run out of money? What if? What if? WHAT IF???? My current self-dialogue is something like this: "Oh my god I'm learning for Chile on Friday! Shit, I should have ordered that history book online. What shampoo should I bring? Man, I'm going to miss Lulu. What if she forgets me? Ooo, better not forget to pack some gloves. I can't believe I'm heading back to winter." And on and on and on. My one consoling though is this: If all else fails, I'm in the middle of wine country. :)

What Will I Miss the Most?

2008-05-20T17:13:00.002-04:00

While I am very very VERY exciting for my upcoming trip to Chile, I've spent some time reflecting on the things that I'm going miss during my 2 months away. Naturally, I'll miss my family, the REB, my friends, etc. I will probably cry countless hours over Ms. Lucy-Belle (as my dad has nicknamed her). And of course, I will miss my daily trip to Homemade Pie & Ice Cream to get an oversized slice of caramel cake. :)

But the thing I will miss the most is this: SEX AND THE CITY, THE MOVIE.

I am a MORON because I booked my flight the day the movie is released. Stupid, stupid! Clearly, I did not have my priorities in line! I am keeping my fingers crossed that they do a midnight release so that I can get my fix before I leave. I've checked movie release dates in Chile, and most major U.S. films open in Santiago 2-3 weeks after they do in the U.S. I CANNOT WAIT THAT LONG.

So what I will be missing most is a movie about fashion and relationships. What does that say about me???? ;)

Nightmares

2008-05-19T10:54:00.004-04:00

Yup, that's right--I've been plagued by nightmares lately. Not the being-stabbed-to-death kind, but more of the personal-devastation kind. Needless to say, it's not been a good month for sleeping.

It all started with a dream about an ex-boyfriend getting married in a Protestant church and then asking me to play DJ at his wedding with the CDs that are in my car. Odd, yes? Maybe not a technical nightmare, but unpleasant nonetheless.

Then I started having reoccurring nightmares about final exams--that I forgot one, that I blanked out in the middle of the test, etc. The weirdest one has been about a take-home exam with Prof. Trucios-Haynes (whom I've never taken, FYI). I drove to my cousins house in the Salvadorian barrio to take the test, but I kept getting distracted by her loud TV watching, loud chewing boyfriend (Note: I do not have a cousin who lives in the Salvadorian barrio...in fact, I have no cousins at all). I think these are fairly normal post-exam dreams, but I would really like them to go away. Exams are over, so my subliminal brain should be over them too!

My most recent dreams have been about leaving for Chile, and someone from my family always skips out on saying goodbye to me. In one dream, my mom was too busy to come say goodbye, and in another, my dad drives so (purposefully) slow to the airport that I miss my flight. Now I know that my family doesn't want me to go, but do I have to have horrible dreams about it???

As usual, I don't think I'm stressed about leaving, but apparently I am...

Exhausted

2008-05-13T21:13:00.002-04:00

I took my last final almost 2 weeks ago, and I am STILL exhausted!

However, I have managed to paint my bathrooms, hallway, and kitchen, spend a lovely weekend with my entire family, parent my neglected dog, get insurance for my trip to Chile, pay my exorbitant tuition and about 8000 other bills, get new contacts...bored yet? Suffice to say, I haven't really taken any time to relax yet. I AM TIRED.

Therefore, I'm currently sitting on my couch, drinking my new favorite pinot noir, with Lucy-dog, and watching a documentary on PBS (which I learned about on NPR--Storm Over Everest, highly recommended!) and being perfectly lazy. Tomorrow, I'll get back on the ladder and finish painting my (apple green) kitchen. But for now, I'm taking the night off and trying to recoup.

P.S. I have a million and 87 different things to do before I leave for Chile, so my posts will probably be sporadic at best. However, this blog will turn into my updating system for friends and family while I'm in Chile. I leave on May 30, so stay tuned!!!!

This is Your Brain...On FINALS.

2008-04-29T21:53:00.003-04:00

During final exams, several odd things start happening. They show up in my conversations with friends, my daily routine, and the things that wake me up in the middle of the night.

A few examples:

1. This morning, brushing my teeth, I suddenly thought, "Barncki v. Vopper." There was no context, no meaning, the case name just popped in my head mid-floss. Note: my Con Law exam is over, but the cases are still rolling around in my mind.

2. Two nights ago, I woke up at 3:30 in a cold sweat, freaking out about the difference between spoke-and-wheel and chain conspiracy.

3. While washing my high school quilt today (the squares are made of my old high school t-shirts), I found myself thinking about how our 1st Amendment rights "do not end at the schoolhouse door," and how much I wish I had known that back in 2000. LAME, Katie.

4. My wrist has completely flared up again, rendering any use of my right hand pretty much impossible. I have dropped about 8000 things, either because my fingers go numb or a stabbing pain shoots up my arm. Now I get to run around town in a very non-chic brace thingy, looking like a total pretentious tool.

5. On another medical note, I'm pretty convinced my eyesight has rapidly plummeted due to my frantic squinting at my computer screen during exams.

6. I have not done one single thing to prepare for my trip to Chile, even though I am leaving in exactly 4 weeks!

7. I have resorted to a diet of: Wendy's french fries, sour patch kids, apples or ricecakes with peanut butter, diet coke, and COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE.

If finals won't mess a girl up, I don't know what will!

Too Much Too Late?

2008-04-27T16:02:00.003-04:00

Can you go through a delayed break-up?

After The Breakup (with definitely warrants capital letters), I never really went through the deep and painful grieving phase. I fully expected to spend weeks eating chocolate cake and ice cream and putting on eye cream to cover up my puffy eyes. It just never happened. And it wasn't because I was deluded enough to think that it wasn't really over. I knew it was The End. But I just couldn't do the breakup drama. Sure, I cried on the entire 10 hour drive home from his place. But after a week, I really and truly doing A-Ok. Four years of drama, and it took me one week to get over it.

Maybe that's why, five months later, I'm finally hurting.

No, I have not spent the past 5 months thinking that we'll reconcile. But now, after those 5 interminable months, we have finally settled into a upbeat and positive friendship. Which is wonderful and nice and safe. But it also hurts. We can no longer makes those little jokes, those little inside moments, that filled our relationship. The entire tone of our relationship has changed. No more flirtations, no more sharing memories of the times when we were happy. Just chit-chatter about our lives--which are now going in different directions.

Don't get me wrong--I'd rather have the REB as a friend than to not have him in my life at all. He's still my best friend, even with no relationship attached. But that doesn't mean I'm not sad about the loss. It's the end of our era.

So I'm taking a break from moving on...to pause and grieve. It's about time.

Melancholy

2008-04-27T15:18:00.003-04:00

I've been kind of down lately, and I can't quite pin down the issue.

Blaming finals is the natural choice. Nothing will make you feel worse about yourself than taking 2 exams within 48 hours, neither of which you finish before time is called. Seven hours of continual typing and intellectual degradation is bound to make my 2nd story window look like a good option.

But I don't think that's my problem.

Lately (as documented in previous posts), I've been trying to let go of what I can't control and just roll with the punches. And most of the time, I like it that way. But some days...I just wish I could control the situation. I wish I could have all the answers. The fact that I don't--and I can't--is getting me down today.

So today I'll embrace the melancholy, and tomorrow I'll try to get back to being bubbly. In the wise words of Ms. O'Hara, "tomorrow is another day."

Little Girl Dreams

2008-04-24T00:28:00.005-04:00

Like every white, middle class blue-eyed blonde, I spent my childhood daydreaming about my future in terms of 2.2. and the white fence. I logged countless hours agonizing over my future husband (Mr. Perfect, of course), our house (big but not too big, and a garage), our dogs (2 bassets, of course), our kids (two rowdy boys)...our everything. All I could think about was my life in the future, and that future only came with a man and a family. I defined myself around that dream. It was the only way I could envision myself in the oh-so-scary future.

This pattern of dreaming persisted well into my teenage years...and dare I say, into my early twenties. With each new boyfriend, I would tell myself that he was "the one" and I would start picking out paint colors for the master bedroom before we even dropped the L-bomb. Eventually, each relationship fell apart, and my WASPy dream would get recycled onto a new Mr. Perfect. Until, one day, there was no Mr. Perfect. My life was man-free. No one to dream of a future with, no one to plan around, no one to consult about paint colors.

And then the most amazing thing happened: I was happy. I stopped daydreaming about a future I couldn't control, and I found a present I could embrace.

In all those years--from four to twenty-four--that I spent planning my life around "the plan," I forgot to ask myself if there might be something more fulfilling than living my life around a hopped-up, hyped-up, tired old dream. What would happen if I only factored the one person I knew I could rely on, ME, into my future??? And then, the truly scary realization came: Why do I keep living for "one day" when I could be living this day.

Tonight, I grabbed a fast dinner at a not-so-upscale place , and I saw an attractive forty-something woman eating alone. (Two important notes: 1) I eat dinner out by myself occasionally and I manage not to feel pathetic or lonely, but I'm not crazy about it, 2) She had salad, I had fries.) But this woman had a smile on her face. She wasn't cowering her shoulders, hoping no one would witness her single dinner. She wasn't pretentiously reading a book to make herself look studiously alone. She didn't even touch her cellphone. She sat and enjoyed dinner, quite happily, by herself.

Five years ago, I would have pitied that woman. I would have sent her a mental hug and hoped that she found someone soon. Tonight, I completely surprised myself. My first thought upon witnessing Ms. Single's dinner, was "I hope I'm that happy eating dinner alone at 40." It's hard not to be jealous of someone who can make a Wednesday night dinner at a fast food joint a happy occasion.

Throughout all those little-girl daydreams, I never considered the possibility that I could make myself happy. I never had faith in my own abilities, and I never slowed down to consider if there were other things than marriage and a family that could make me smile and be proud. But once I realized that there's a great big planet out there, and that I get airline miles with my credit card, there's nothing more I want than to fly around a experience it all. I want to have a career that means something more than a paycheck, I want to travel, I want to read a thousand different books and then some, and I want to spend every possible second laughing. And there is no reason to put off those things until "the future," when I could be doing them now.

Maybe someday I will end up with a Mr. Perfect and children and maybe even a garage. But if I don't, I know I'll be just fine. Better than fine. I know that I will be happy, because I've promised myself that, from now on, I'm living my life for me, pushing my own boundaries, and I'm not wasting any more time waiting for someone else to come along and make me happy. I've figured out how to do that all by myself, and I feels pretty damn good.

You can't always get what you want...

2008-04-19T19:57:00.005-04:00

...but sometimes you might just get what you need. (Thanks to Mick Jagger for giving me the title for this post)

It's finals time, so naturally I'm in a constant state of panic, stress, hunger, more stress, hyperventilation, trying not to cry, and sheer panic. Of course, law school rules mandate that you never, ever, admit these feelings. It would mean that you're not as naturally brilliant and successful as the other 140 people in your class. So I turned to a non-law school friend to confide in, who also happens to be the only person who understands my pre-finals induced psychosis. I called the REB.

And on Friday, a very sweet little package arrived, overnight, from Amazon.com. Although it may seem like a cruel trick to send a girl her favorite DVD during finals, he's the only one who knew it was just what I needed to get me through it. Even though he wasn't always able to give me what I wanted in a relationship, he definitely knows how to be there as a friend when I need it. And that's more than good enough for me.

A day in the life...

2008-04-18T13:35:00.004-04:00

Inevitably, we will all make bad decisions in life. My most recent bad decision was taking a class called "Secured Transactions" this semester. Don't even ask me what that means because I still don't know. Needless to say, it's like listening to a banker with a bad lisp explain linear algebra in Mandarin.

It goes without saying that studying for the Secured exam is a challenge. Either my ADD is in overdrive or my subconscious is reminding me that I am not cut out for this type of material. At any rate, I'm finding it impossible to concentrate on the material. So far, my day has gone as such:

1. Wake up at 5:30 a.m. during earthquake; have visions of dying alone.

2. Finally get back to sleep at 7 a.m. after cleaning up Lucy's "I'm so scared" potty.

3. Get out of bed at 8 a.m., attempt to make myself semi-presentable...and give up on that after several attempts to comb my cowlick only results in a unicorn horn.

4. Head to Panera with good intentions of learning all about something called Priority, which is actually a veiled excuse for getting a cinnamon bagel.

5. Read exactly 5 pages of the ABC's of the UCC: Article 9, talk to my recently-engaged-friend on the phone, share earthquake stories with my L'ville friends, and get 4 coffee refills in the 2 hours I spend at Panera.

6. Head home, make and eat lunch, and switch to Con Law. Amazingly, I've read the entire Equal Protection Clause section of my outline in the 30 minutes I've been reading it.

Moral of the story: I have an aversion to any type of law that involves money. Remind me not to make this mistake again.

Soul Mate v. No Mate

2008-04-14T13:54:00.005-04:00

I have never been one to believe in soul mates. I just don't buy the concept that destiny propels us toward "the one" and only person who is right for our choice of life mate. I don't think there is just one person, "my other half," who can bring me a lifetime of happiness. In short, I don't believe that someone else can "complete" you. That's right, folks, I'm calling Jerry Maguire a liar.

But two things have caused me to re-evaluate my view of THE SOUL MATE.

First, one of my very closest friends got engaged! I could not be happier for her, mostly because she is fabulous, her fiance is fabulous, and I know she's not the type to be bridezilla so we can still stay friends throughout the wedding planning hoo-ha. Truly, I'm thrilled for her. Is her fiance her soul mate? I don't know her view on that. But I do know that he makes her happy, and that's good enough for me. :)

Secondly, I've been watching WAY too much Sex & the City. I can't explain it, but it's a major player in my finals-studying routine. (I've always been a master at tuning out background noice, and I even think the act of tuning-out noise helps me concentrate better.) Perhaps I've seen all the episodes so much that it's easy for me to tune them out. At any rate, it helps me study. I turn on Carrie & the girls, and get down to work. Recently, I've been watching the 3rd season, when Carrie cheats on Aidan with Mr. Big. Mostly, I can't stop thinking about how Carrie had the "perfect" man for her, and yet she couldn't shake Mr. Big.

Now y'all know that I have my own version of Mr. Big--a guy who hasn't always been there for me, but dammit, I just can't shake him. So does that make him my soul mate???

My answer is still no. I still don't believe that there is just one guy out there for me. If I had the chance to travel the whole world over, I might easily find 20 guys who are "the one." I think that there are certain things we fall for--certain looks, smiles, philosophies, goals, sense of humor--that attract us to particular types of people. If we're lucky, we make a connection with someone that is so intense, we can't describe it. We get high on the bond we form with someone who is so much like us, yet still kind of a mystery. Sometimes, the bond is so powerful that we dare to call it LOVE. And if we just can't shake our connection to that person, we call it a soul mate.

The fact that I can't shake my personal Mr. Big doesn't make him my soul mate. It means that I have yet to meet someone that I have that kind of bond with. Or maybe it means that no one else will put up with me. Or maybe I don't want to make another bond. But it does not, in any way, mean he completes me. If I never need a man to complete me, just put me out of my misery and remove me from the gene pool. On my own, sans man, I am perfectly whole. As a single woman, I'm happier than I've ever been.

Perhaps I am my own soul mate. I only need me in order to complete myself. And my Mr. Big? Well, no one ever said extras were a bad thing.

Rebel With a Cause

2008-04-12T22:26:00.011-04:00

I would never, ever, use the term "rebel" to describe myself. For my entire 25 years, I've followed the general rules in life: I didn't drink in high school, I went to a good college and studied hard, and I've never even had a speeding ticket.

Not to say that my life has been boring. I've had my share of wild nights (oh tequilla!) and adventuresome moments (bridge jumping at 2 a.m., singing at The Stage, and etc.). I'm happy with the way I've lived my life. In many ways, I haven't followed the traditional rules: I'm 25, I'm not married and have zero prospects of being married, I don't have kids, I don't have a career. I'm just saying that I don't make a habit of being a rule breaker.

I've been thinking a lot about why this is. And I've filtered it down to two main reasons: 1) I don't like getting in trouble, whether it's with a friend or with an authority figure, and 2) my biggest fear is that I'll disappoint my parents and family.

While that doesn't sound like a lot, realizing this has been very liberating for me.

I certainly don't plan on breaking the law (I am going to be an attorney soon), but I'm also realizing that some authority figures are not worth bowing down to. For example, one of my major regrets in life is that I never stood up to a former boss of mine. For obvious reasons (this is the world wide web...of gossip and backstabbing), I don't want to go into details, but I do wish I had stood up for myself and what I thought was the right thing for our organization. Note to self: Next time, have a backbone. Believe in yourself and your mission enough to stand up and defend your position.

But I know I'll always want to please my parents and family. I have an abnormal fear that I'm going to be the screw-up, irresponsible child. So I do what I'm supposed to in order to keep the familial status quo. Until now. At 25, I'm rebelling: I'm going to Chile for two months to live, work, and travel.

Now, for most folks, this is probably not a big deal. In fact, many families encourage these types of activities. But for my family, this is probably not the best "life choice." Not that I hold anything against my family--quite the opposite. I love them for their Midwestern pragmatism and ultimate value in our family. I also want to clarify that my family is not "small minded," provincial, or unadventuresome. We just don't really do the study abroad thing. Too far, too scary, too far from the family (we are all very, very close), and why live somewhere when you can go on vacation...with the whole fam. So, my 2 month stint to Chile is raising eyebrows, to say the least.

I'd be lying if I didn't agree with some of their concerns: It's expensive, yes. I don't proficiently speak the language. I don't know a single soul there. And I've never been away from my family for more than a month at a time, and even then they were only 150 miles away. I would be pulling the wool if I didn't admit that I will probably cry at some point because I miss them so much. But I just can't get past what I'm gaining.

A chance a fluency. Realizing a life dream by going to a country I have always dreamed about. Reading Neruda...at Neruda's home. Seeing the second highest mountain range in the world. Visiting the southern-most city in the world. Traveling up Matchu-Pichtu. Working for an international non-profit. And on, and on, and on.

So I've finally found a reason to "rebel." So what if I'm 25, and this isn't really a rebellion. For me, I'm breaking the ultimate rule: I'm doing something my parents don't entirely approve of. And that makes my sad in a very deep place in my heart. But it also makes me feel wild, reckless, and young. More than anything, I know that this is the right choice for me.

I guess I had to grow up in order to rebel.

In Her Shoes...Wish I Was!

2008-04-09T13:52:00.008-04:00

This time of year always makes me with I had the strength of Toni Collette in "In Her Shoes." In the movie, Toni is an attorney who quits her job as a firm associate and takes up dog-walking instead.

Toni, I wish I had your strength, because I'd love to do that right now!

Finals time always makes me wish I was doing something else with my life. 90% of the time I appreciate my legal education, and deep-down I know that a law degree will benefit me in my career. But for 2 weeks in April (and 2 weeks in December), my mind starts to wander toward all the other careers I wish I'd chosen.

When the weather is gorgeous outside like it has been this week, I do wish I had Toni's job. I love dogs, I love to be outside, so bring on the dog walking.

Mostly, I daydream of working for the Travel Channel. Samantha Brown doesn't have anything on me! I'm convinced that my voice is less annoying than hers. I would really care what my job assignment was, as long as I got to travel all over the world. I would almost (ALMOST) do an Andrew Zimmern and eat weird foods. ALMOST.

At any rate, I would be the happiest girl in the world if I could have my own Travel Channel show. I've thought of a few spins to pitch to the TC folks, but if anyone has great ideas, pass 'em along!

Until then, I'll be walking dogs with Toni Collette...

Hot Spot

2008-04-07T20:16:00.002-04:00

I've just discovered the biggest benefit to the location of my new apartment: FIREMEN.

Yup, that's right. I live a block from a fire station. You might think this is annoying because of the sirens, etc. However, I haven't really been bothered by sirens at all. And it does make me feel good that if my 110 year old home burns, the big hoses are just a block away.

But who even cares about all that? Every day at 4 p.m., the most GORGEOUS and buff men run right by my house. In fact, one offered to help me with my groceries the other day! They run by in a little pack...smiling...mmmm. Wide shoulders, athletic, and braves danger every day? Um, yes please!

I'm living every girl and gay man's dream! Come on over ladies and guys! We'll class it up and put lawn chairs out and drink wine while we wave and bat our eyelashes. :)

Sometimes Mother Does Know Best

2008-04-06T23:21:00.003-04:00

I've officially had my finals breakdown for this semester. Without fail, I have a moment before the "finals funnel" (those 2-3 weeks before exams) when I break down under the pressure of going through another finals period. The thought of that horrible week just weighs on my until I break down in sobbing tears.

Only this year, I had a weird version of the breakdown. Instead of having 24 hours of inconsolable crying, I had 3 days of just...blah. I wasn't sad, but I sure as hell wasn't happy. I wasn't bawling, but I teared up constantly at any slightly sentimental thought. Part of this might have to do with the fact that it was grey and rainy outside, but I still know that it was also my finals breakdown.

So I did the only thing I knew would make it better: I called my mom. She suggested that I come home for the weekend to clear my head. Of course, I freaked out at the thought of losing so much studying time, but decided to go home anyway.

And you know what? It was the perfect solution. I got good sleep, ate ridiculously good home cooked meals, went to our little downtown festival (and bought a cute vintage pillbox hat for $5!), got a massage, and spent time with my grandparents. And amazingly, I got an entire class outlined! Something about being at home helps me prioritize my time (It probably doesn't hurt that my mom bribes me. "I'll make pound cake if you meet your study goal for the day").

So my trip home was the perfect medicine. Sometimes mother really does know best.

40 year thoughts

2008-04-04T15:22:00.007-04:00

I did not start this blog as an outlet for my more serious (and therefore) private thoughts. As my friends know, I have a serious side, I just prefer to keep it to myself. There are things I care passionately about--the environment, animal abuse, the downfall of public education, the foster care system, to name a few--but I don't always make it a point to share my thoughts or opinions on those matters. This is probably because I feel inadequate next to my law school counterparts who seem so much more knowledgeable than I am.

But today is a special day, and I don't feel like keeping it to myself. Forty years ago today, one of our last genuine leaders was killed. And yes, I say "our" because we led us all--the whole rainbow--toward a better future for America. I don't need to go on a long diatribe about all the achievements of MLK, or to talk about what it would be like if he were still alive, or anything like that. I want to talk about what is pissing me off.

My own generation. That's right folks, I'm disappointed in us.

As part of the techie generation, my social life is semi-centered around Facebook. My "status" message today was "Katie is thinking about this day 40 years ago." Not one, two, or three, but SIX DIFFERENT PEOPLE asked me what happened 40 years ago. Are you kidding me?!??!?! What have we become other than an ungrateful generation who takes absolutely everything for granted???

Now I know that history is not the most exciting subject in high school (I have a lot more to say about that, too, but not now). But that history is REAL and directly impacted the way WE live our very privileged lives here in 2008. For example:

Loving v. Virginia, which was only decided 50 years ago, decriminalized the love life of good friends of mine. Too bad people are still quick to point out that they are a bi-racial couple rather than seeing them as two people in love.

Rachel Carson almost single-handedly started the Environmental movement 46 years ago. Silent Spring was a wake-up call and we're still hitting the snooze button.

100 years ago, it was legal to discriminate against Jews, the Irish, Italians, Greeks, etc. in the labor, housing and educational markets. And black folks get their own sad history in that arena. While discrimination against those groups is no longer "legal" (ahem), it is still perfectly legal to discriminate against someone because they are gay, lesbian, or transgender.

Asian-Americans were put in concentration camps, on AMERICAN SOIL, just 65 years ago. The U.S. did not formally apologize for this until 1988, and we still refer to it as "internment" because we don't want to recognize our own prejudices during sacred "war times." Guantanamo, anyone?

Only 35 years ago, I won the right to control my own reproductive system thanks to Roe v. Wade. That right is under serious threat. Welcome back to the alleys and wire hangers, ladies.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed 40 years ago today, and we still haven't fixed half of what he fought for. In fact, it's 40 years later and this is the first time we're had a viable African American candidate for the presidential office. And his race is still a main issue.

Those dates may seem like a long time ago, but they weren't. It's hard for we 20-somethings to imagine what America was like 30, 40, 50, or even 100 years ago, but the fact remains that those eras were real. People really lived through and experienced those moments. People suffered and fought battles--in war, in the courts, on paper--because they believed that they were working for important social change in this country. And Generation Y is thanking them by forgetting their sacrifices.

That just flat out embarrasses me.

Perhaps September 11, 2001 is "our history." Maybe that's our legacy. But never forget theway it changed YOUR life, and how it will change the lives of your children. Because one day, your kids will think you're just an old person telling a sad story, and they won't be able to relate. It's our job to keep the history of that day alive, as an honor to everyone who suffered, died, rescued, and stood in horror watching.

Just like it's our job to remember MLK today. So thank you, Dr. King, for reminding us all that there is still time to "rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge, to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation."

He's not with us, but let's keep pushing toward the Promised Land.

Rainy Day Greys...

2008-04-03T12:42:00.003-04:00

Why do people call them the rainy day blues? I happen to like the color blue, and it makes me feel peaceful. Rainy days, however, do not. They make me feel downright grey.

I'm finding myself feeling pretty negative today (It's rainy and cold outside, I have a make-up class I don't want to go to, too much reading to do, etc.). So instead of whining, I'm going to spill my three happy things that I am grateful for this week:

1. I got back in touch with a good friend from college. Not sure why we lost touch, but I think about her all the time. It feels good to know that we're still friends despite the lag.

2. We had 2 gorgeously warm and sunny days. Even though it's chilly and rainy today, spring is definitely on it's way! There isn't really anything that makes me happier than springtime! Derby is only 4 weeks away!!!

3. I finally figured out my classes for next semester and I cemented my summer independent study. If all goes as planned, I'll be doing an externship at Legal Aid next year instead of taking so many classes. This thought makes me exceptionally happy!

4. I can't help but add a fourth: CHILE CHILE CHILE. I can't stop thinking about it!

I'm going to try to remember these things today...even though the rain is still pouring down outside.

A Few Other Things Y'all Don't Know About Me...

2008-04-02T13:24:00.005-04:00

Bagel's tag got me thinking. I feel compelled to share a few other weirdo things about me that most people don't know. I'm considering it part of my self-realization to share this with y'all:

1. If I could go back and choose another career, I'd either be an FBI agent or a 3rd grade special-needs teacher. I'd also love to work for the Travel Channel, but I think most people know that already.

2. The mirror in my bedroom is positively and certainly a skinny mirror. I look very tall (ahem, like 5'5" or so) in it, and very thin. I shamelessly refuse to get a new one. I pretend like the reflection is real.

3. As ridiculously girly as I am, I HATE to do: anything to my nails/toes, brush my teeth (don't worry, I do, twice a day, but I don't like it), or diet. I LOVE to: exfoliate, moisturize, curl my eyelashes, and eat junk food like Twizzlers but justify it as "fruit."

4. I would postulate that most of my friends think I am an organized person. Truth is: I'm a mess. I never hang up my clothes until the pile is really big, I leave dishes in the sink constantly, and I have virtually no organization system for my school work/notes. My bathroom is a disaster (just ask my parents about this).

5. I am horrible when it comes to doing important tasks like: calling the cable company to cancel the internet I don't need, returning my insurance agent's annoying calls, depositing checks, or returning things before the 30 day period. And if someone reminds me to do those things, I get incredibly irritated.

6. I complain about my Mom, but I really really really really REALLY hope I can be just like her. Minus the way she drives.

7. I do not forgive easily, and I'm likely to bring up something from 3 years ago in a fight. It's not fair, and I know it.

8. I truly have ZERO desire to be a stay-at-home mom. Not that I think anything is wrong with it, it's just not me at all.

9. I wish I was Latina. Or at least not so painfully plain and boring with no connection to my ancestry. I "come from" (hate this phrase...my family has been here for 200 years! I'm just flat-out American) the land of potatoes and beer...not too exciting. But I can't be more exciting, so I make up for it by staying incredibly blonde. :)

10. I truly think my dog understands me when I talk to her. Just because she can't respond doesn't mean she doesn't know what I'm saying.

11. (My favorite number)

12. I have never had a desire to get in a physical fight, but if I encountered someone who I know is or has been violent to animals, I might kill him/her.

Now y'all know everything you need to know about me!!!

10 Random Things About Me (Thanks Bagel)

2008-04-01T10:14:00.010-04:00

So I received my first "blog tag" and the subject is 10 Random Things About Me. So here goes:

10. I secretly like "gross" foods that girly-girls usually hate: bologna, hot dogs, and box mac-and-cheese (Note: I do know that this isn't REAL mac-and-cheese. It is its own food group. Real mac-and-cheese is heaven-sent and magnificent, especially if made by Christopher).

9. I procrastinate/jack around most of the time in law school, and then cram really hard in the last 2 weeks before exams. It's just the way I operate. I don't get fired up until I'm under pressure.

8. I'm an ENFP, which apparently means I: am interested in everything (pretty much true), learn best when several methods are used (very true), need constant change and new things in my life (also very true), love being in love (soooo true), have trouble separating work and leisure time (um, yup), and can be flaky (dammit, that's true). In short, I am enthusiastic about things until they don't go my way or I get bored. I think it's best to just call a spade a spade here and admit the truth in that.

7. I would love to be a law professor some day, but I a) don't have the credentials, and b) don't care for academia. Perhaps as an adjunct teaching law and lit or some type of social justice law?

6. If I had the money, I would not work and just volunteer and travel. I'd love to combine the two and go on volunteer vacations. Basically, I wish my life was one big ASB trip. A major goal in my life is to join the Peace Corps at some point.

5. I am decent at almost everything but not really good at any one thing in particular. This fact completely depresses me and is a major insecurity for me.

4. I'm vain. I wish that wasn't true, but I am. I hate going out of the house looking bad. I would give almost anything to be one of those naturally beautiful women who can just throw on jeans and t-shirt, put their hair in a ponytail, wear no make-up, and look gorgeous. Reference point: my friends Claire & Lucie, Jennifer Garner, and Natalie Portman.

3. I HATE food/chewing noises. If I can hear you chewing gum, swallowing a drink, etc., I will instantly be irritated with you. I get this from my Dad, for sure.

2. I want to write a novel someday. I've started and stopped several times, probably due to #8 above.

1. I am happier at this point in my life than I ever have been before. It's taken 25 years, but I love myself and love my life. :)

Now I have to "tag" 5 other people. Here goes:

Lucie, you will love this!

Heather, of course you're getting tagged! And I'm dying to know your answers :)

Christopher, I expect to be rolling on the floor laughing

Victoria, take a study break and fill us in!

Claire, do it on facebook!

A random gripe about being 5'3"

2008-03-31T15:13:00.004-04:00

In the big picture, I'm not even really that short. But apparently, being 5'3" makes me incapable of performing some ordinary functions.

For exmaple, I cannot use the handicapped toilet at school. Normally, I try to be polite and avoid the H potty, just in case there is a person who really needs it. But when your school only has 2 stalls--one being the H-pot--you're left with no choice. However, you must be 5'7" + to use the H-pot properly. I feel like a 5 year-old with my feet dangling 6 inches off the ground and the t.p. so far away that it's virtually impossible to reach. Needless to say, this leaves me feeling RIDICULOUS.

And as much as I adore my new apartment, the cabinets are so high on the wall that I am only able to reach items on the very bottom of my shelf without using my handy-dandy step stool. I used to use it once every blue moon when I needed to get down a large serving platter or extra wine glasses (don't worry, I keep 8 in an easy-to-reach place at all times). In the new place, I am using the step-stool so much that the paint is already starting to chip off the handle! Sigh.

CLOTHES SHOPPING = DRAMA. Pants are always too long. Simple tank tops become dresses on me. Dresses look frumpy because they go past my knees. The petite section is my best friend. Too bad it usually only includes Alfred Dunner and Liz Claiborne.

Finally, stores like Target and Staples seem to LOVE putting the exact item I need on a shelf that is 10 feet in the air. Then I have to find a little red-shirt person (a challenge in itself), and they have to get a ladder, and 15 minutes later, I may or may not have the item I need. I realize that space is a hot commodity, but why must they put the skinny yellow highlighters up top where no moral can reach???? Clearly, this is a necessary item for ALL students and should be reachable.

Don't mean to complain, but I'm feeling very short today. :(

Voy a CHILE!!!

2008-03-28T11:50:00.001-04:00

It's official--I've been accepted into the placement program in CHILE for this summer!!!

More details to follow, but I just had to share my excitement!

Challenges

2008-03-26T13:22:00.005-04:00

Most people use the winter holidays (Dec/Jan) to reflect back on the direction of their life in the past year, but I always prefer to do this in springtime.

Not that it's even a preference; rather, it's just the direction my mind wanders toward. There's something about the new grass and pale sunlight and that first day you go out without a jacket that makes me what to stop and take stock of my own life. It makes me want to jettison the dirty winter hibernation in my own mind and welcome new shoots and blooms. So now that it's officially spring (according to the moon) I'm taking time to look back on the past year of my life and look forward to the coming year.

This past "year" has brought several challenges, some bigger than I ever thought I'd face. Some were unexpected but welcome. And some....just were.

First, conquering law school has been my biggest challenge and achievement so far. A year ago, I hit an academic rock-bottom. I have always done well in school, and law school was the first time I had not been at the very top of my class. It was a slap in the face. And a much needed one. I came to law school without any major form of direction other than, "I want to help kids!" Unfortunately, that is NOT the kind of direction you should bring to law school. Amid a sea of over-confident go-getters, I sank. I lost myself. I floundered. But, after a year, I've finally found my footing. And I'm on a pretty good ledge right now. My mom asked me if liked my classes better this year, or if I'd figured out how to play the game. And the answer is: to some degree, yes. But mostly, I found myself again. I remembered why I deserve to be in law school, too. So maybe I'm not in the tope 10%, but I will do more than bring home a paycheck. Wanting to help children IS the right kind of direction. I just had to look past the suits to remember that.

Secondly, as I have referenced before, I've survived The Break-up. That's right: I got my heart broken and I'm still on two feet. I didn't even spend one day laying in bed feeling sorry for myself. Something about letting go of him made me latch onto myself. And I have to admit, it's the best damn feeling I've ever had in my life. I don't know that I've ever had so much faith in myself. I truly don't mean that in an arrogant way--in no manner do I think I'm fabulous. But I have a confidence that I've never had before. For the first time since I was 17 years old, I'm not putting my faith and effort into a relationship. I'm putting my faith in ME. I'm 25, single, and pretty happy about that.

Finally, I'm slowly learning to let go. I still worry about things I can't control. But I know that I can't control them, and I'm learning to be at peace with that fact. I'm realizing that plans are just plans, they're not anything more. Just because I make an elaborate plan doesn't mean life will actually follow that way. In fact, following the plan would be pretty boring. If you mapped out your life in the beginning, you would never get to experience the big-smile-bursting-chest feeling of the surprises. Even the bad surprises are sitting better with me. Pat Green said it best when he sang "Sometimes I sleep with all the lights on/to help me appreciate the night." And while I still have no "direction," I'm beginning to think that it's overrated. There are so many things I want to do with my life, starting NOW. No more waiting for my life to begin!

Just a few "year-end" reflections on my mind. Happy Spring!!!!

Reasons Why Today Is a GOOD Day!

2008-03-25T11:13:00.002-04:00

1. I woke up early, had time to shower, eat a good and healthy breakfast, watch a little of the Today show, and get to class a few minutes early. I LOVE mornings like that. I almost feel like a put-together person.

2. I actually understood what was going on in Secured Transactions. Take note: this is only the 2nd time this has happened.

3. I have TWO interviews later this week!!!! I might be employable! Always good to reaffirm your own faith in yourself.

4. I'm having a very good hair day. :) I just had to point that out!

These little things (and big things, re: interviews) have made me sooo happy today that I don't think my bubble could burst. On that note, I am going to try to make a post or two each week about the positive things going on. Thanks for the tip, Oprah (via Mom, of course).

Es una dia de sonrisas!!!!!

Finals Goals

2008-03-22T20:53:00.004-04:00

Finals are less than five weeks away. Ok, cover your ears. EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKK!

Needless to say, I've hit the buckle-down mark and my blog posts may get sparse until Derby celebrations are over. Knowing my tendency to procrastinate, they may actually get more prolific....

However, now that it's crunch time, I've set some goals for finals period this year:

1. I will not drink more than 3 diet cokes/diet dr. peppers in one day. I'm worried that I'm pickling my body and I will be so well preserved that the mortician might just stand me up in a corner of his freaky little office as a testament to the aspartame = formaldehyde theory. (Note: Coffee does not go toward the caffeine-units-per-day count)

2. I will not eat more than 2 packages of Twizzlers over the 8-day finals period.

3. In fact, I will eat real food. Don't know what it is about finals but all I seem to want are sugar, popcorn, and caffeine...

4. I will exercise every day. This actually isn't a hard one for me to keep. Despite the fact that my sneakers have been highly neglected this semester, I can always justify a run/trip to the gym during finals. Something about endorphins and clearing my mind. Or another way to procrastinate.

5. I will only have ONE breakdown where I call my mom in the middle of the day and tell her that I don't want to be a lawyer and I just want to open up a bakery or work for the Travel Channel. During said breakdown, I will feel sorry for myself for no more than 15 minutes, and then I will realize that I look like a boiled monkey and stop crying.

6. I WILL NOT GO SHOPPING. NOT EVEN ONCE.

7. I will do not any of the following: Read my guide books on Chile, obsess about what to wear in Chile since it will be winter, google information about Chile, worry about speaking non-stop Spanish for 10 weeks in Chile, talk about going to Chile, eat chili, or even say the word Chile. If I begin to think about Chile, I may find myself on a plane headed there when I'm supposed to be taking my Evidence final.

8. As always, I will go to bed late, get up early, and shower very infrequently. Not that this is really a goal--more like an inevitable fact that I'm accepting early on.

9. I will not sell my sweet-but-hyper dog to traveling gypsies (um, is that really an ethnic slur? I mean it only in an "if a band of people who roamed the earth playing music and practicing free love came by my house, never to return" kind of way...). While I love my Lulu, I am sometimes tempted to take her to Doggie Daycare and pick her up a week later. I usually only have these thoughts when she wiggles her head under my chin and clinks my teeth and/or knocks over my coffee cup, or when she jumps up on my clean jeans/dress/skirt.

10. Last but not least, I will not get overly stressed. Sounds impossible, I know. But I've learned that there is a inverse proportionality between my stress level and my grades: the lower my stress level, the higher my grades. Go figure. Probably also important to note that my stress level is lower when I'm more prepared for exams. Therefore...

...back to this damn Evidence outline. I feel like I have to be a criminal lawyer now just so I can put my knowledge of the FRE to use. Or maybe I can just use it as a "knowledgeable skill" on my Travel Channel application...hmmmm.....

Movies as Metaphors

2008-03-19T13:24:00.004-04:00

My friend Lucie can relate ANYTHING to Sex & the City. Recently, I told her about a conversation I had with the recently-ex-boyfriend, and she replied, "This is just like the SATC when Carrie and Big..." My good friend Ashley swears that the movie "Serendipity" helped her get over he ex-boyfriend. And while it sounds like I'm doubting or criticizing their wisdom, I am definitely not. In fact, I watched a movie last night that basically summarized the past 4 months of my life: Catch and Release.

Normally, I am not a big chick-flick fan (Ok...admittedly, I love the BBC Pride and Prejudice and Legally Blonde as much as the next girl) but this one we really well done. Really! Go watch it and you'll understand. Promise. :)

If you know me, you'll know the real-life counterpart of each character. I'll leave that up to conjecture to avoid offending anyone or airing my dirty laundry on the internet. But the whole point is that the message really stuck with me:

1. Life goes on. Shit happens, and the best any of us can do is pick ourselves up and figure out what else is out there. The world keeps turning, and you might as well be part of it.

2. It's ok to make the choice that other people don't understand. As long as you're not hurting someone else, you have to do what makes YOU happy, even if other folks don't understand it. (Cue the lyrics from "The Next Five Years" where Jamie and Kathy say "There's something about us that nobody else needs to know...").

And that's it for today. No major revelations, just reflections on a cute movie. I could share a lot more but this isn't the right forum for that. Just wanted to say that I understand how Lucie and Ash can relate to their life through Hollywood. Sometimes, a movie can articulate our situation and emotions better than we can do on our own. For me, even the title says it right now: Catch and Release.

Post-Vacation Thoughts

2008-03-18T10:34:00.009-04:00

After 7 glorious, perfect, sunny, warm days, I've finally accepted that I am back in my "real" life.

Not that I'm happy about that, but I'm trying to be realistic here. I'm stuck here until at least May, so I should get my head out of the clouds for the next 6 weeks. Or something like that.

As is expected, I came up with so many new blog posts on the cruise (note: I forgot my journal and therefore had to make lots of notes on the back of receipts...my purse is a total mess!). There's something about sitting on the beach, looking at clear blue skies that makes me reflect on so many different things, but as always, my main thought is always about how I want to run away and live a life-less-ordinary. I find myself dreaming of living on an island, working within the local community, and becoming part of it. Of becoming part of something new. It's thrilling (and admittedly terrifying) to imagine myself so completely outside of my comfort zone and outside of everything I know...and then becoming part of it.

And then our plane landed in Indiana and I had to come back down to earth.

And now, I find myself torn in between an interesting dynamic: How I do not sell myself short and embrace LIFE and all those experiences I want to have and still remain "responsible," "mature," and down-to-earth???

Right now, I don't know the answer. I know that if I moved outside the U.S., I would miss my family greatly and would probably be more homesick that I want to admit. Not to mention that my dear, dear grandparents are 92 years old and in failing health. And I don't want to take the Bar and then a) not need the certification or b) have to take it again in a few years. And what would I do for a career? Can I be an attorney in a foreign country? Do I even want to be an attorney??? See, lots of questions.

But then there are the benefits: new experiences, larger cultural perspective (and the sundry benefits that come with), mastering a new language, "diverse" friend set, reasons to travel back, probably stands out on an American resume, and most importantly, a life less ordinary. And I mean less ordinary in the sense that I have a desire to challenge myself to do new things, NOT because I want to brag to my friends/co-workers that I've done something "different."

(By the way, I think most people go through this thought process in their early 20's. Since I am just now figuring myself, I am going through this in my mid-twenties. Whatever)

The entire point of this rambling is that my little va-cay left me wanting more. More adventure, more sunshine and 90 degree weather, and more LIFE. I want to get out there and live it, and I'm tired of letting things like law school and the Bar and "I should (fill in the blank)" keep me from doing that.

One of my favorite movies sums it up best: "Either get busy living, or get busy dying."

The Good News...And the Bad News...

2008-03-07T20:52:00.004-05:00

Good: I am leaving for a cruise in 2 days!

Bad: I have the plague.

By "I have the plague," I mean I have a very attractive hacking cough that made a little girl in Walgreen's bug her eyes out and run to a different aisle. No worries, though, I have drugs! And I really am planning on taking them all this time. Promise. As long the instructions don't say I can't drink fruity drinks while sunning myself on the boat. ;)

So, goodbye for now, readers! I'll update you when I'm back from sun, blue seas, and probably a mild hangover.

Hasta luego!

My alter-ego

2008-03-03T15:16:00.005-05:00

...is a white MacBook with no name.

My last computer, a lovely little iBook, was named Izzy and I was convinced we were soul mates. And then she crashed and met her fate at Help My Mac! in Indianapolis, where I sold her for $200 for her remaining parts. I was like that scene in First Knight when Guinivere pushes Arthur's death pyre out into the sea. Ok, maybe that a leeeettle dramatic, but it hurt my heart to say goodbye to her.

As always, I moved on too soon.

The pressures of law school (which started 1 week after Izzy left this world) forced me to march into the Apple store and buy a new MacBook (Yes, I realize that I just used the words "forced" to describe my trip to the Apple store, which is an oxymoron. Truth is, I merrily skipped in, got my new 'puter--and free iPod and printer--and left elated). Little did I know that this little beast of a machine was NOT even close to the machine that Izzy was. It's been nothing but a long, hard, road ever since.

My first clue should have been that the new MacBook is a man. No, I am not insane. But I do tend to assign gender to inanimate objects (my Jetta is Gretta, my childhood Blankie was a boy, my KitchenAid is a girl named Claire). I just get a vibe and the rest is history. And my vibe from the New Mac is very masculine. He is ornery, stubborn, and definitely has a mind of his own. He does what he wants whenever he wants, with total disregard to my needs. When he wants to work it out, he does...but some days he just doesn't feel like it (which of course leaves me hanging high and dry). And he makes little grunting sounds. Typical man indeed!

Despite the New Mac's gender, he is certainly my recent alter-ego. Right before classes started this semester, New Mac had a break-down and had to go back to the store for some rebooting and restoration...not entirely unlike my feelings after The Breakup. I was broken-hearted, unwilling to go out or do any form of work...but yet I was not irretrievably broken (yet another lawyer-term). The guy at Apple told me that New Mac had "corrupted files." Now when has a computer term ever summed up 3 months of your life??? Amazingly, it was the perfect term for the bad baggage in my life--corrupted files. Bad memories, sad memories, pointless arguments we had simply for the sake of arguing...even though I know those files were once bright and sunny.

But just like New Mac, I was able to throw out most of the corrupted files and get right back up and back out in the game of life. I was up and running toward something new a different. And New Mac was chugging along just fine.

But dammit, sometimes things come along and bring back those files you thought you had purged.

I'm not sure what New Mac's problem is, but he's back to spazzing out, being confused and lazy, and generally flaky. He alternates back and forth from hot (working fine) to cold (crashing twice in twenty minutes). How odd that my alter-ego is a tiny little laptop computer, because I know exactly how he feels. I don't know if I'm hot or cold, restless or ready for rest. Some days I'm just looking for a life-less-drama, and others I want it ALL, including the side of hot mess. Problem is, I change my mind 20 times a day...just like New Mac.

I'm taking New Mac (who shall remain unnamed until I feel a growth of affection for him) back to his family at Apple, and hopefully they can straighten him out for good and get rid of ALL corrupted files. And maybe I will vicariously get straightened out as well. Perhaps we both just need to clear our heads of the past and forget all of the bad memories that lie there, to take a deep breath of clean air and flat-out refuse to ever go back to that corrupted place. Maybe we both just need to delete a few files and rebuild them with uncorrupted ones.

I'm a strong believer in forgiveness and second chances, so New Mac gets one more shot to earn my techie-devotion (although he has a lot to live up to next to the iPhone). And I'm going to dig through those files, keep the good parts, and toss the bad. New Mac and I are on the path to un-corruption.

Wild Horses

2008-02-28T13:15:00.006-05:00

My sister once told me that the best word to describe herself was "priggish." I've finally realized that my word would be "restless" (Um, yes, we are definitely different).

I'm not talking about wandering-the-world-in-pursuit-of-truth restless. I'm talking about unveiled daydreaming and what's to come. I have a hard time being content with my current position at any given time, whatever that may be. I am always wondering about where I'll go next, what I'll do next, what I should be doing to get there, who I'll go with, and if that is really the best option for me. Rarely do I stop and mediate on the present moment and enjoy it for what it's worth. But while reaching for the next-best-thing, I tend to leave a wake of destruction in the form of wasted money, half-finished projects, confusing goals, and the worst, hurt feelings of people I care about. And in the end, I end up traveling in circles.

Lately, I've notice several things (and people) leading me toward a more patient point-of-view:

My friend Lucie's obsession with Yoga.

From the handful of times I've been to yoga class, I know that a central tenant is to be aware of the present moment and to accept that moment for what it is. This could come in handy when I'm sitting in class daydreaming about being elsewhere. I can't be elsewhere, I must be in class, so I will maximize that time by face-stalking/e-mailing/reading my friends' blogs (I know, I know! My attention span only last for 40 minutes). I should celebrate law school for what it is: a less-fun version of undergrad (ok, much less) but with many of the same perks (open schedule, student discounts, and sleeping in on Friday mornings). Few people, including myself, characterize law school as fun, but it is an amazing opportunity to soak in new information and learn.

My mom's obsession with Ekhart Tolle's A New Earth and all things Oprah.

Many of my mother's theories border on hokey new ageism...with a side of Ralph Lauren (just like Oprah!). But this one really struck me: Tolle's theory is that if we're always looking toward the future, we never actually enjoy our lives because we can't be happy in the present. Makes perfect sense, right? And yet, I've been living my life for all those things that I don't know about in the future instead of enjoying the fact that I am a young woman with few responsibilities and several good things going for me. As I write, the sun in shining outside and my weekend has started. That's a good enough reason as any to celebrate!

Finding my eggs.

Thanks to my friend Michael, who pointed out the theory of "finding your eggs" from the movie The Runaway Bride. Remember how Julia Robert's character doesn't know what kind of eggs she likes because she just eats whatever her current beaux is eating? She had to find her eggs in order to solve that little runaway problem. And so do I. Now I happen to know that I prefer my eggs gently scrambled with whole milk, topped with cheese and salsa. But there are several things I don't know about myself, and now is as good a time as any to find out. Day by day, I'm going to do my research. (I think I'll start with the epic yoga v. pilates debate.)

The best years of my grandmother's life.

My grandmother (who will be 93 in June!) has always told me that the best years of her life were her 20's and 30's before she got married. When I was young, this always sounded a little crazy to me. I always thought that the best years of my life would happen when I got married, bought a house, had 2.2 and a white picket fence. But now I think I knew what she meant. Why long for the fence when you got wide open spaces right in front of you?

I don't ever want to walk a straight line in life. But I do want to wander a road that has kinks, quirks, dips, and even a few mud puddles. I no longer want to be restless, but I don't want to be at rest either. I want to skip down the road, dog at my side, smiling at the sunshine, loving life simply because I get to be part of it.

I'll start by doing that today.

(cue "Wild Horses" as Lulu and I trot down Hepburn Avenue....)

Love and Leases

2008-02-26T16:39:00.005-05:00

Not to be a Debbie Downer, but I utterly despise moving. Truly, Madly, Deeply...I hate it.

Despite this fact, I have managed to make 5 different moves since I graduated from college in 2005 (oh my god, that was three years ago?!). And no, I haven't been hopping from one glamorous locale to the next, I've just been meandering up and down Interstate 65...and Bardstown Rd. in Louisville. Hopefully, the newest place will hold me down until I graduate in May 2009...at which point I will have the pleasure of strapping my KitchenAid in my front seat and toting it to another locale (yes, I really do that).

I have found a few positives about moving, most notably:

1. I make great friends with the folks at Goodwill...and my house is less cluttered. I tried very hard to follow the if-you-haven't-worn-in-a-year-throw-it-out rule...but I just might need the dress that I wore to a wedding in September of 2007, so I'm hanging onto that one anyway.

2. I find old things I thought I had lost. I had given up all hope of finding my high school t-shirt quilt and a pair of earrings given to me by the recently-ex-boyfriend, but lo and behold! they showed up during the move. :)

3. Moving somewhere new gives me false hope that I will become an organized person...and it lasts for almost a month! I have yet to organized my new place, so the clock hasn't started running yet. And Spring Break is in 2 weeks, so this means I might be organized until April!

4. I forgot how much I liked living by myself. If this makes me weird, I don't care. No need to worry that my roommates will hear me belting it out to Wino while I get ready or notice that I've eaten 2 pints of ice cream in one week. No more pesky money-swapping during monthy bill paying, no more "who did that?!" and no more sharing anything. I realize that this makes me a selfish person, but I'm willing to call a spade a spade. I love my personal space and "me time." (I still love you Meggie and Claire-Bear!!!)

5. I usually end up reflecting on "LIFE" and where the heck mine is headed. This is especially pertinent this time around. As stated in a previous post, I've recently gone through a major break-up. Put that event within 2 months of moving to a new house and I don't even need to say it out loud that I've been doing some major thinking.

The major Topics of Thought include but are not limited to (oh my god, I'm so lawyer-y) my non-existent career, traveling, my finances (what finances?!), my family, where to move to next, and of course, men.

And after all that thinking, I came to the same conclusion for each Topic: I either need that or I do NOT need that. Finances and a career? Yup, need that in the pretty near future. Travel? Definitely need some of that VERY soon. But men? NO. DO NOT NEED THAT.

Maybe having a man in your life is like having roommates. Sometimes you just have to admit that you like living alone and you don't need someone to split the bills. Signing a lease for a one bedroom apartment, shluffing all my own stuff into it, and sitting down at the end of the day and hearing...nothing...is an incredibly refreshing experience. By moving out on my own again, I realized that I'm happy being alone in another space in my life--a relationship. It's time for some "me time." A relationship with myself.

And I need that.

Applications Available: Inquire Within.

2008-02-18T12:03:00.008-05:00

Let's just put it out there: Break-ups suck. Really.

No matter which way you look at it, it's a crappy experience. You spend too much time rehashing what went wrong, what you could have done better, why you stopped trying, what he should have done to make you want to try, what he never did and was never going to do, the point where it all went wrong, and for some reason questioning why it still won't work now. And at the end of that thought train, you're left with one conclusion: there ain't no goin' back, whether you want to or not. You can pick up the pieces of yourself and move on, or you can gain 20 lbs. Bridget Jones style and cry yourself to sleep.

I've had the joy of going through several break-ups, and I've decided that I'm done with that. To ensure that my most recent break-up will be the last, I'm posting my requirements for The Next One.

WANTED:

A grown-up man who likes to cuddle but will never admit that to The Guys.

Deal breakers: Must be a non-smoker, love dogs (especially mine), and should understand that Sunday is for football games. No blondes. Must be at least 6' tall and weigh 75+ lbs. more than me (if you need further clarification on this point, stop reading). Must be willing to fix clogged sinks, take out the trash, and buy me ice cream without pointing out the size of my ass. NO UK FANS. No mama's boys.

Preferred characteristics: Over the age of 27 (30+ preferred), likes to cook, eats red meat. Ability to fix/build things a major plus. Curly hair preferred but I'm flexible. NO fans of the Patriots, Duke, Purdue, or any team from Dallas. Must get along with my Dad and Brother-in-law and charm my Mama. Must give forehead kisses and back rubs on frequent basis. Democrats highly preferred.

Other criteria:

1. Crying is acceptable, as long as the subject of your tears is because your team lost, your dog died, or the misfortunes of the Bush administration.

2. Must live East of the Mississippi, South of the Mason Dixon line. Indianapolis residents are a rare exception, but only if you refuse to live in Hamilton County.

3. Indy 500 attendance is mandatory, no exceptions.

4. Must agree to live in funky, historic home. No vinyl suburbs allowed. Must be willing to do major renovation work on said home.

5. Flowers and jewelry are acceptable gifts, appliances and electronics are NOT (unless specifically requested). However, cards, love letters, mix CDs, and other sweet, thoughtful, sentimental gifts are preferred.

6. Should understand that I will never: be a stay-at-home mom, shovel snow, get fake boobs, or like crappy man-action movies.

7. I expect you to buy tampons. If you're not man enough to do this, you're not man enough for me.

8. Lie and tell me I am beautiful in the morning when my 'fro is up and breath is bad.

9. Never question my shopping habits. Just believe me when I tell you it was on sale.

10. I will compromise on holidays but I will never be happy about it, and prefer not to do so. How can be beat Christmas with the Clark Griswold's? Key word is compromise.

If you think you meet these criteria, apply in person. No long distance applications will be accepted.

_____________________

Now I'll just sit back and wait for the applicants to flood in. In my dreams, of course.

Coffee and...Kiddos?

2008-02-15T14:49:00.005-05:00

Excuse me while I get my bitch on. I'll get back to being cute and cheeky tomorrow.

This morning, I had a mission: to teach myself Secured Transactions. If you don't what that means, don't worry...I don't either. Something about attachment and perfection and description of the collateral. In short, some kind of law that banks use and therefore I only need to know enough of it to pass the bar.

Back to my point: I was on a mission to learn this stuff. As part of my quest, I went to my new favorite coffee shop which is just far enough off the beaten path to be clean, quiet, and the probability of running into another law student is slim. After 20 blissful minutes of studying (i realize this is an oxymoron), I was approached by a father-looking figure wearing a Nowka-esque outfit of pleated cords and a shirt that definitely came from Orvis. Said father-figure warned me that there would be a children's poetry reading in 10 minutes, asked if I would kindly move my 30 lbs. of books so he could watch his sweet little darling. Since I try to be a good person, I smiled and moved my computer, three books, large chai, and derrière. I plugged in my headphones and cranked up the tunes. No harm, no foul.

WRONG. The kids I could handle. Of course, they were adorable and perfect and lovely. And I expected the noise. They weren't the problem. But...their parents were straight from HELL. I wish I was joking. Apparently, if you are the parent of a seven year-old, this means you are the most important person on the planet and you no longer have to use common courtesy. This includes:

1. Giving dirty looks to the student (who is still earnestly trying to study) because she is clearly a bad person for imposing on your child's special poetry-reading day. She needs to leave NOW. Never-mind the fact that this a public place.

2. Talking VERY LOUDLY when you are literally 4 inches from the student's face (Nope, I'm not over-exaggerating here).

3. Bumping into a law student's computer, nearly knocking it off the table, and then glaring at the law student because it is CLEARLY her fault for being in your way. And don't even think of apologizing. This is apparently unnecessary.

4. Glaring at the law student when her phone makes a tiny text-message-received beep. This noise is loud, irritating, and makes it impossible for you to hear your child scream, "Mommy! Look! I'm pouring the half-and-half all over the floor!"

5. Leaving the bathroom door propped open for the convenience of the kiddies. When the big people (i.e. the law student) need to use the restroom and shut the door, this is evil. Upon their exit from the restroom, you should tell your child, "It's okay, honey, some people need privacy."

Suffice to say, I got very little Secured studying done. As I was leaving, Orvis-man apologized. Which was very sweet and genuine, so he is forgiven. But the obese lady in the horrendous hot pink blazer (yes, with shoulder pads) is NOT forgiven and she's lucky that my computer survived her ass bump. I would really like a new MacBook Air and she looked like she could definitely finance it.

Aside from just being bitchy, I really think the children-in-coffee-shop phenomenon has gone too far. It's fine if you need to get your latte fix (I empathize) and happen to have the babies along. Heck, buy 'em a hot chocolate and make their day. But I feel that many parents have forgotten Mommy Nila's golden rule of parenting: Your little bundle of joy should not impose on the joy of the big folks in the room. I know, I know. Let kids be kids, kids make noise, etc. And I get that, really. But there's a time and place for that. Mama Nila always let us know that we could be wild at home, but she expected us to be well behaved in public.

More importantly, what happened to the real Golden Rule? Why is it suddenly okay to do whatever you want, even if it disturbs other people? When did we become a ME-ME-ME society and stop caring about how our actions affected those around us? I see it when I drive, when I'm shopping, and yes, in the coffee shop. Don't get me wrong, I thought the poetry reading was a great idea. I didn't even mind that it imposed on my studying. But I do mind that several parents had a you're-in-MY-way attitude. Ok, so you're a parent and I'm not. But I do take my education just as seriously as you take your child's poetry. So let's play nice and share the public space.

That's all I'm saying: Let's get back to the Do-Unto-Others.

As if I needed another reason to procrastinate...

2008-02-14T09:32:00.007-05:00

...another reason presented itself today.

Two of my favorite authors, Geraldine Brooks and Sue Miller, released new books recently. Admittedly, I was not enamored with Miller's last book, Lost in the Forest, but it's hard to beat her earlier works (my personal favorite being While I Was Gone). So I'm always willing to give her another chance, and her newest looks promising.

But my real love--Geraldine Brooks--owns my heart. I first learned of Brooks' work when I randomly picked up Year of Wonders at a used book store during my senior year of college. Instant love. I read it, instantly re-read it, and passed it along to anyone who would accept my abused copy. And then...

March. The book that still weighs on my mind. Rich descriptions, good plot, etc. I don't plan on pretending that I am qualified to critique a Pulitzer Prize winner. I only want to note that Brooks uniquely and beautifully constructs genuine and believable characters. I found myself empathizing with even the most vulgar characters--and, more importantly, the non-vulgar characters that we "moral" humans are supposed to despise for their "poor" choices--because their emotions and actions were so truly human. Brooks doesn't try to create the perfect protagonist; rather, she creates a REAL character who is so flawed that the reader must love him...because it's impossible not to see yourself in his actions. It's impossible not to notice my own reaction to the "wrong" choice...only to realize that the character's action is more moral than the "right" choice.

Brooks has really examined human actions and the motivations behind them (probably based on her many experiences as a global reporter). Not only can she speak to our own inner workings, she is able to translate them gorgeously into print.

In short, she's genius and I will probably go buy this book today. If you see me, tell me not to go to Carmichael's. Please. For the sake of my grades, stop me.

Or don't. :)

I'm not bitter...I just have good taste

2008-02-13T19:33:00.004-05:00

I'll just say it: I HATE Valentine's Day. Really. I hate it for all the same reasons you hate it:

1. I hate the commercialism--people spending money they don't have just to buy bad jewelry, mediocre chocolates, and the little teddy bears that some poor Thai child got paid two cents to sew.

2. I hate that there is a set day that you're supposed to tell someone you love them. This should be an everyday thing, right? Of course. And no, I am NOT bitter because I don't have anyone to tell this to. Really, I'm not. Not even a little. Not one teeny bit.

3. I don't like glitter, sequins, or pastel colors on greeting cards. As Wino says, No, No, No.

4. I was one of those traumatized children in grade school who never got Valentine's from the cute boys. Who thought it was a good idea to put the Valentine's bags at the front of the room so everyone else could witness the pain and misery of my sad little bag? (I'm only slightly bitter about this)

Now that I've spun the traditional arguments against Valentine's Day, let me just share the real reason I hate this so-called "holiday." Pink + Red + Purple = UNACCEPTABLE DISASTER. There is no excuse for this, EVER. Not for 3 year-old girls, not for sweets, not for dolls, not for Mary Kay Cadillacs. NADA. Naturally, I hate the holiday that uses this as an acceptable color combination. You will not see me in this horrid palette tomorrow, no ma'am! Admittedly, I would be untrue to myself if I didn't wear something semi-fitting (hmm...my peony-pink babydoll top from Anthro? Red Ann Taylor sweater with cute buttons?) but you will not catch me in the unholy trinity.

And I'm not sending Valentines either. ;)

The Things We Do: Reflections on Being a (Girly) Girl

2008-02-12T23:30:00.002-05:00

My morning was pretty typical: I woke up, slugged down some coffee, and crammed in some last-minute reading before class. And of course, I showered and got ready...despite the fact that I was only slightly prepared for class. I never did finish the Evidence reading, but showering and fixing my hair definitely took precedence. I can always B.S. in class, but I can't fake clean hair, right? Right. So off to the shower.

Halfway through my shower, the hot water heater decided to give up (this is a reoccurring fact at my house). At the same moment, my shower caddy decided to fall off the wall, making for a lovely flourish of cold water and shampoo bottles landing on my head. I'm entirely innocent when it comes to the hot water heater, but I knew the shower caddy was destined to fall. It could only hold 4 bottles of Aveda shampoo/conditioner, 3 bottles of body wash, 2 bottles of face wash, shaving cream, a bath poofy, razor, and hair clip for so long. But really, I NEED all those things. NEED.

After my traumatic shower, I didn't feel like going through the hassle of putting on makeup and getting ready. But as I stared at my bulging makeup bag, I felt like I had to do the preparation. I mean, there is probably $500 of makeup in there! Not to mention that I have a growing motley of forehead/eye wrinkles that need to be covered up (I swear, I woke up on my 25th birthday to find them suddenly there...). So I did my girly routine of moisturizing (face, arms, legs), make-up, perfume, and drying my hair...all while grumbling about my two X chromosomes.

As I was burning my fingers off while straightening my hair with the Chi, a thought hit me: "Why the hell am I doing this?" I spent 15 minutes fixing my hair, only to walk in the extreme winds on my way to class, where absolutely no one will care if the back of my hair has a kink. Let's be honest--law school is not exactly a fashion parade. But nevertheless, I still stood there and burned off my fingers for 5 more minutes to ensure that the back of my hair was, in fact, perfectly straight. Because in the grand scheme of things, that really matters. Definitely.

Finally, I got dressed, which was more like a clothes circus: jumping through hoops (i.e. into tights), rings of fire (me cursing), cannonballs (clothes hurled on the floor as I changed my mind), etc. Well over an hour of pulling, priming, prepping, powdering, perfuming, and pain later, I was ready. As I looked in the mirror one final time, I answered my own question: Because I secretly like jumping through all the hoops. It makes me feel like a woman, whether that's right or wrong. When I feel pretty, I feel better about myself. It's that simple. And the fact that if I can't be the smartest girl in law school, I can try to be the best dressed.

And will I do it all tomorrow? You bet. But hopefully the hot water lasts.

I am officially a blogger...

2008-02-12T23:13:00.000-05:00

...I feel so Gen Y. But I'm excited to share my thoughts and vignettes with you! Welcome!