Recomendation for a Saturday Morning

Any day that begins with animal shaped blueberry pancakes and Classic X-men cartoons is going to be awesome. It's like all the best parts of being a kid, minus the having to wake up early thing.

I had my morning class canceled today. Hallelujah.

In return for the universe's kindness I have used my day to have a wonderful breakfast of swedish pancakes (no cold cereal today, I'm celebrating) while letting my inner high school drama nerd bask in the the cheesy fest that is Glee!.

Way better than learning that you can not search some ones home without a warrant or consent. Never, ever, ever. Bright line people, bright line.

1 Year Down

So Zach and I got married a year ago (plus one month*). At least that's what the calendar claims, and I suppose it's accurate. Really, I'm having a hard time deciding if it feels like everything just happened yesterday, or if we've been cohabitating in the shoebox since the dawn of time. Being with Zach is just such a big part of what my life is now that sometimes its hard to remember that it wasn't always this way, and yet its still such a big thing that its almost hard to fathom that yes, we are actually married.

At this point, I feel like I should go off on some syrupy sweet ode to the utter perfection and sunshine that is married life and how I'm so grateful that my white night rode in and saved me from the treachery of singledom (at the horrifically spinster age of 21). Maybe even go all out and profess my love in a sonnet or a haiku. But really, that's not what its all about, and I feel like pretending our marriage is something it isn't would do it a disservice.

Because really, being married is pretty much the same as being single. Life is always just life. Sometimes it really, really sucks. Other times are filled with rainbows and unicorns. Most of the time it's just ok. Marriage is still just life, but with another person in it. All the time.

And if I'm going to be sharing all the goop that life can throw at you with someone, I want to do it with Zach. I want to come home from a crappy day and whine about it with him, and watch his forehead get all crinkly as he tries to think of how to make it better. I want to stay up way too late and be exhausted and useless the next day because we just couldn't stop talking at bedtime. I want to laugh so hard it hurts with him. If I'm going to be crying and screaming at someone because I'm just so mad, I want it to be with him, because I know that we always care enough about each other to (eventually) put aside our hurt and selfishness and make things right again. When I have yet another seizure, I want his arms around me. He's the first person I want to share things with, good news and bad. All the ups and downs, the dreams and plans, its all better together. I just want to live life with him, every bit of it.

And with that being said, here are some pretty pictures. I know its more than a little cliche, but so is doing an anniversary post. And I'm ok with that.


*Uhm, I kindo of started writing this on our actual anniversary and got distracted by having lots and lots of hot, passionate sex having a sweet anniversary dinner with Zach. But I like what I managed to write, and figured it was still worth posting, even if it is late.

The Saucy Temptress

Do you remember when you first went to high school and learned that you could have pizza every day if you so choose? Maybe not at all high schools, but for me high school was pizza heaven and it seemed like the coolest thing. Really, the only thing that kept me from subsisting entirely on pizza was that I got my lunch money in cash, and pizza could be a little spendy. It seemed like a much better idea to hoard the money for various teenage frivolities. I kind of wonder if my parents knew I was skipping lunch in favor of having fun money. It doesn't really matter, I'm just curious if I was really "getting away with it." Latter when my brother became a teen and I saw how much money he could mooch off of my parents I started to realize that maybe I could have fulfilled my pizza fantasy without giving up the finer things in life, but by then I had moved on to mooching of off my parents through child support, groceries and other goods and services.

Anyways, teenage me would have loved law school. Well, not the work, but she would have dug the never ending pizza. Not only is pizza readily available, but its free. You may have to sit through some sort of a lecture or meeting to get it, but it doesn't come out of my student loan money and that's as good as free. While someday we law students will be making $100+ an hour (please oh please), for now an hour of our time can be bought by 2 pieces of pizza. Not even good pizza. After a year of law school pizza from various local places I've learned that Boli's crust really does taste like cardboard, and that any event geared towards public interest law is probably not only going to have no pizza with meat, but also at least a couple boxes without any cheese. I really respect people that commit to eating vegan, but unexpectedly cheeseless pizza is so very disappointing.

I know that eating pizza that often is really, really bad for me. Trust me, every morning I get up and sigh as I reach past my skinny jeans in favor of something that can button up I am reminded. But despite that knowledge, every day I am faced with that saucy cheap temptress waiting in the wings to draw me into her cheesy clutches. And I can always lie and say that I'm just going for the networking, or to expand my legal education, or some other less than true explanation. But really its just because that morning I was too lazy to pack something remotely healthy for lunch, and now its noon and I'm hungry and prowling the halls for a free lunch.

With all that being said, yesterday was a bit of a victory for me. I started the day right with a healthy lunch stowed away in my backpack. I didn't actually make it, as I am a righteous woman who supports my husband in developing his divine nurturing, lunch making skills, but I still had it and that's all that really matters. I was all ready and set for the day, and was only going to go to a lunch seminar because I was actually interested. Just go and learn and network and eat my healthy lunch. Even if the pizza everyone else is eating smells really good and actually came from one of the non cardboard places. But I held strong! Really, kind of sort anyways. Well, I only had one piece. You have to start somewhere, right?

I dress like a Mom

I'm not sure when or how it happened, but somehow I have begun to dress like a Mom. Not a young hip Mom, or even an older classically chic Mom. Nope, I'm talking full on frumpster. Not that there's anything wrong with that, anyone wrestling small child(ren) that can manage an occasional shower is just fine by me. But I'm a twenty something, very childless person going to a professional school.

Which is most of the cause of my frumpy feeling. I heard once that all the pretty, smart women become lawyers. It's so very true. I am surrounded by teeny tiny women with perfect hair, and perfect bodies clothed in perfect little skinny jeans, with little banana republic tops and j crew cardigans, mincing by in their perfect little sensibly stylish heels. I don't know how they manage to have that perfect mix of stylish but not too trendy, young but still classic and professional. On the other hand today I am waltzing around in not terribly flattering light blue jeans, a navy blue cap sleeve shirt and a really fuzzy and comfortable grey cardigan that as a result of being fuzzy and comfortable is also entirely shapeless and hangs kind of wierd. Oh, and of course trusty, beat up flip flops. It's not a horrible look if you're loading 3 kids into a minivan. Less so for the casually chic halls of law school.

I don't remember feeling quite this out of place, but I may have lost what little style I had during my summer of nothingness. Every day at about noon I would go through teh excruciating effort of getting ready for the day by swapping out yesterdays yoga pants for a new pair and choosing whatever t-shirt clashed the least and smelled the best. Occasionally I would venture out of my cozy apartment into the real world and begrudgingly put on a pair of jeans. Once every couple weeks I might feel a little flirty (or out of clean yoga pants) and dare to put on a simple skirt (and a t-shirt, I didn't want to get too crazy). After a summer of such wonderful laziness, making a cute outfit just seems so hard. Add that to my natural lack of fashion talent and a lack of funds to quickly remedy that and well, you get my Mom uniform of blah jeans, plain cotton shirt and a cardigan.

I used to kind of look forward to the simplicity that awaited me when I would get taken on by some soulless law firm. Just day after day of nice, simple suits. Of course, then I rememebered that I'm a woman and there is no such thing as simple womens clothing. Which cut of suit would I wear? Which fabric? what kind or color of shirt. Not to mention shoes, accesories and a pretty but still serious hairstyle. And if i fail at that, well that just means that I'm not professional or trustworthy. Oh boy.

Maybe we'll actually get to some scifi future soon, and I can just wear jumpsuits? I like clothes, I think they can be fun, but if I can't wear what I really want without feeling awkward, it would be nice if what I'm supposed to wear was easy to figure out.