Inspirational Thought

Today I wanted to watch a movie, so I wandered over to Netflix Instant to see if anything caught my eye. I haven't used it for a while, and had forgotten just what a high ratio of horrible to decent movies there are on there. It's a repository of awfulness, forever preserved and easily accessible. I don't know whether I should be appalled that so many horrible films somehow managed to be made (with all the people involved in making a film, how did no one see that this was a bad idea?), or inspired that quality isn't always necessary for success.

Trains v. Planes

I've been traveling a decent amount in the past couple of weeks, at least for me, a self possessed homebody. In general, I'm not a big travel girl. Still, like most people, I've learned to deal with the joy of air travel. However, this last time around I took the train to NYC and back, followed by the plane down to OK. If I hadn't loved the train so much, I would almost detest it for making the subsequent plane raid seem that much more intolerable. Allow me to elaborate.

Plane

Pack very carefully to avoid any security snafus. Show up several hours early. Remember what to take out of carefully packed bags. Mess up, and get glared at by security guards. Board plane. Sit there while they mess with the engine. Sit there some more. Just 15 more minutes they promise. Ok, more like 1 hour. Connecting flight officially missed. Still stuck on plane for a total of three hours. Finally start to go down the runway. Ha! Just an elaborate plot, as the plane turns around for yet another problem. And finally, after three hours in a metal tube, and probably only thanks to federal law, they finally let us off. Where we get to wait in a giant line with everyone else on our flight to get everything rebooked. Go home. 

Try again the next day. Come back. Go through security, again. Note that they have changed the rules since yesterday and now insist on shoes being in bins, instead of on the track. Not that it matters, because my shoes have been randomly selected for extra screening, so I get to wait around on skeevy floor for five minutes. No wait, make that ten. The exact same bad that went through the day before without issue has apparently been flagged and gets to be rummaged through. But they let me through and 4 hours in the air and one layover later I'm done. Well, at least until the return trip.

Train

Buy ticket. Board train, no security, shoes and bags intact. Sit on nice, big seat, stretch legs, enjoy. 

Granted, going to Oklahoma by train probably wouldn't have felt as nice after 12+ hours in those nice, big seats. Still, it was a cruel contrast. 

The Shoebox missed us

Back home again, this time to actually stick around for a while. Apparently the shoebox missed us so much, that it disintegrated in grief. Gee, it's so nice to be welcomed back home...

Random holes and bits of scattered ceiling aside, there is always something nice about stepping through the door and being home again. Anyways, I'm going to go wash off the sicky sweet airport smell and cuddle up in my bed. Bye.

Channel surfing

While we've been at my in-laws this week, I've started to grow somewhat accustomed to having cable television around. Sure, we've mostly been visiting, but there have still been plenty of times where we were just sitting in the vicinity of the big shiny television.

It feels so weird to just watch TV after being used to exclusive hulu or otherwise internet TV. Going from a very deliberate, I want to watch X episode of Y show, to just flipping around. I know that is what I used to do, but it feels so awkward and random. Granted, it is kind of nice to not need to expend any more thought than just flipping and saying yay or nay.

Also? I love the history channel. Their documentaries are ridiculous. So many alien conspiracy shows. And the reenactments? Love it. 

Come on

I can somewhat understand why people choose to do the occasional text messaging in a theater. The light is horribly bright and distracting, but I can see how it wouldn't look that way up close and how you could think that since it was just a quick little thing. Don't get me wrong. It's still rude, but I can understand how people might think it is ok.

But honestly, who thinks it is acceptable to pull out your phone and have an actual conversation in the middle of a movie?

The ghosts of shoppings past

Do you ever get a sick feeling when you miss a buy? Like when you find a perfect pair of shoes, but they are just a little bit out of your price range, so you decide to wait, and next time you check up on them, they're gone?

I do. I can still tell you, in detail, about the perfect dress, that was even on sale, that I just couldn't commit to, and now haunts me. I'll wear another perfectly good dress, but my heart will be thinking about the one that got away. Overtime the ghost dress will become this magical entity in my mind. Where, if I had only purchased it, every time I wore it I would be thin, powerful, confident. How could I possibly have let all that slip through my fingers?

I think I've developed a bit of a shopping problem, and I think that this is largely why. Sometimes I even buy stupid things that would probably not become shopping ghosts, just because I'm afraid of the what ifs. I can't bear the idea of regretting my inaction, so act, impulsively and stupidly. Add to that the blatant lie that oh, I can always return this latter if I change my mind. Technically true, but in reality, the odds of me making a special return trip by whatever deadline the store imposes just isn't good. And so my closet has more than a few sad items that were never worn by me and never will be.

It's absolutely stupid. I have plenty of clothes that are cute and fit. I'm not the best at mixing and matching them, but my ordinary wardrobe isn't lacking. Trust me, I need the money in my bank account much more than I need a cute pair of pumps. I've tried doing a clothes budget, or coming up with a list of what I need and trying to restrict purchases to the list. It's a nice idea, but the second I come across something that I think might become another ghost, all frugal intentions fly out the window. Somehow the lost money doesn't seem to way as heavily on my mind as the lost potentially perfect piece of clothing. And that's a problem. One that I suppose can be solved with willpower and perspective, but those aren't always the easiest things to muster up.

How do you balance frugality with regret?

I Rock

I'm still on vacation, well,  at least from school stuff. But, I'm starting to get excited/nervous about next week, when I start my summer job.

As previously mentioned, next year I'll be taking part in the Women and the Law Clinic. Well, what I didn't mention is that over the summer they hire a few of the students from the upcoming school year work over the summer, as cases and clients don't just disappear because the semester is over. And it gets paid, like with real money and everything. Real money and experience? Yes please. I've been reading transfer memos, and am starting to get a little nervous by the reality of it all, but overall, I'm mostly excited.

And, so long as I'm sharing good news, I think I neglected to mention this little tidbit. About two months ago I applied to the WeLEAD program, and a few weeks ago I got my acceptance letter. WeLEAD is a program designed to help encourage and support young women to get involved in politics, especially in elective office. There's some great seminars and meetings with women in Congress and other aspects of public service as well as some practical training. Finally doing something vaguely political while in DC sounds oh so good. Besides, much as I'm starting to love some of the potential of love, in my heart I'm still very much a political wonk, and it will be great to get to do a bit of that.

So overall, yay me.

But all this is latter. For now I'm hanging out in Oklahoma at my in-laws. Mostly just sleeping, chatting, eating ice cream and avoiding the outdoors.

Humidity

I'm from Oregon, where it is perfect. I don't say that to boast, it's just a fact. And part of that perfection includes perfect summers, where it gets a little warm, but rarely humid. While I thoroughly enjoyed that perfection, it didn't really do the best at preparing me for less ideal places. And by less ideal places, I mean anyplace with humidity.

I just don't get it, and in fact, I actively try to forget it. It works well until that first day every summer when I innocently walk outside and slam into a wall of air, thick with moisture clinging to and attacking every inch of me. I'll try to wade through it, even as the swamp air clogs my lungs, choking me, sweat rolling down my face, blinding me, until finally I'm forced into a strategic retreat back in the A/C. I'll see others wandering around outside, and I just don't get how they do it.

I understand heat. You just wear minimal clothing and try to stand in the shade. It's a little unpleasant, but bearable, I do not understand humidity. I assume that there is someway of bearing it, making it less miserable. So far, my only solution is to move back to Oregon. I'm still working on that one.

And then the cell phone took over the world, enslaving us all

My brick of a cellphone is officially dead. It lived a good long life for a cellphone, over 4 years of dutiful service. But, as it will now only hold a charge for 8 hours of nothingness and 10 minutes f active duty, it's time to be retired.

I haven't really been paying attention, but now that I'm in the market, I'm slightly terrified of what phones can do now. My old one couldn't even take a picture, and now there are eerie droids floating around. I've just seen too much sci-fi too trust one of those. Also, I'm cheap, but don't get me wrong, the creepy feeling that my phone could be smarter than me plays a role in my reluctance to acquire one. 

Truly, I would have been happy just sing my old one forever. It made calls, received texts and told me the time. It's all that I ever needed and expected. I didn't really even use it that much, I'm just not a big phone person. I barely use mine as it is, and I'm kind of bitter that it is just necessary enough to warrant a bill every month. I don't want a shiny, expensive super phone, just something that lets me stay somewhat connected to people (but not too connected).

Still, everyone with an Iphone or smart phone seems to adore theirs, so I probably just don't know what I'm missing. Any smart phone love out there? Or do you keep it simple?

The airlines are out to get us all

Well, with just enough time to do a load of laundry (why do I buy so many hand wash only clothes? WHY?) I'm packing again. I hate packing. I'm not really a plan out outfits kind of a girl. I just wake up, look outside (or to be honest, check the weather online) and then throw on whatever feels right that day that isn't totally impractical. Preferably something clean, but I'm willing to compromise on that. So the idea of limiting myself to just a few things is horrible. What if I wake up and I really want to wear the cute green shirt, but I didn't pack it, so now I'm stuck wearing the only semi-cute blue shirt and the whole day just feels wrong? Trust me, for the rest of the trip I will obsess over that green shirt. Anything that goes remotely wrong will be directly traceable to its absence. (If only I had the green shirt I would have been more confident, thus resulting in my confidence scarring off the ninjas who have now kidnapped me and are holding me hostage in their volcano laboratory, running biological experiments on me, turning me into a dinosaur/human super soldier hybrid. Great, now I've been shot by James Bond. Stupid green shirt.)

In the past this wasn't that big of a problem. I would just throw 50lbs of whatever into my giant suitcase, check it and luxuriate in the joy of having half of my closet at my disposal. Sure, I was always paranoid about the bag being lost, along with all my wearable clothes, but it was worth it.

But now? Now we live in the days of $25 each way checked bag fees. And somehow $50 just doesn't seem worth that freedom. So, I just try to smush as much as humanly possible into a carry on and deal. It's probably been good for me.

I've learned to deal with the lack of wardrobe options, but I'm still flummoxed by how to deal with the no liquid thing. You see, I have ridiculously sensitive skin. As in, the one time I was out of deodorant so I used Zach's once, I ended up with a rash for a week from my elbow to my belly button. This last week in NYC I forgot to pack my normal lotion, and now have eczema all over my legs. They look like raw hamburger. I'm somewhat dependent on all my nice little products to continue looking and feeling like a normal human being.

Unfortunately, the TSA is apparently is concerned that my humanizing lotion could kill us all, so, that kind of sucks. On one hand, I really would like to make efforts to not me covered in itchy red splotches. On the other hand, $50. (On the third hand, planning ahead and getting travel sizes of what I need, or at least empty containers to put stuff in. But in this instance, as in life for most people, there is no third hand.)

Sometimes I think making airtravel horrible is some sort of super secret anti-terrorism plan. Most of the time, it's just not worth the hassle.

Cuddle lies

Ooof. Ah, I had such plans for today. With jetting off the second I was done with finals, I had such a list of household things that I was going to power through today. Ha. I have barely had the strength to crawl from bed to couch.

I shouldn't have been so surprised. Last night I actually fell asleep while cuddling with Zach. And we are not sweet hold each other close while we drift into dreams kind of people. Nu uh. It's a sweet idea, but when it is sleep time, it is sleep time, and I need my space. We talk and cuddle for a few minutes, and then I get uncomfortable, and move just a little bit to get comfy again. And then move some more, because this position won't work either. And then again, just because I've been still for too long, until I finally give up and roll over to my side where I can move freely and not be touching anyone and just sleep. I've been convinced that people cuddling while sleeping is just one of those Hollywood lies, like kissing before you brush your teeth and just about everything regarding sex.

Until last night, when whether out of some sweet desire to be close or sheer exhaustion, we drifted off before the supposedly inevitable decuddlefication. Well, in fairness, I slept. Zach just sort of lay there, trying to deal with the ever shifting mass of limbs draped all over him, trying to drift into unconsciousness, but only succeeding in having a pinned arm fall asleep. Eventually he managed to kind of roll out from under me onto his side, where he precariously balanced on the 6 inches of bed remaining on his side. Maybe Hollywood lied after all.

Home Again

Well, I'm back home now. Like so many things, it's a little bitter sweet.

On one hand, this was a perfect week. I can't say how wonderful it was to giggle and talk and play with such great friends in such a great city. Saying those goodbyes, not knowing when we would all see each other again, it ached a little to let go of something so wonderful.

But. Then I get that first big hug and whispered "I missed you." I take that first step into the shoebox, my home and get hit with a rush of warmth and familiarity. (The little bunch of "welcome home" flowers didn't hurt either.) And that felt pretty wonderful too.

Not that I can get too comfy...did I mention that I'm leaving to spend a week in OK with my in-laws on Saturday (with Zach this time...because much as my in-laws and I like each other, he is probably more of a pull for them than me)? Maybe I shouldn't get too excited about my own bed quite yet.

Epic (brief summary edition)

Oh, this week has been the epitome of epic. I'm dying to tell all about it, but a) I want to use pictures, which have yet to be uploaded (everything is better with pictures) and b) I'm kind of busy living it. However, so far highlights include:

• the food (Max Brenner chocolate, Grimaldi's pizza, street vendor hotdogs, etc yumminess)
• Walking amidst coolness (Brooklyn bridge, Central Park)
• BROADWAY! (Oh, Phantom was phenomenal. And seats in box 5 just made it all the better. I can't think of anyway better to lose my Broadway virginity)
• And of course, the people (the inside jokes, the boob talk, the everything)

I'm loving this. 

Alot

Like most people who possess basic spelling and grammar skills, the internet can often be a scary place. Which is why I find these wonderful and hilarious explanations of common mistakes to be one of the best contributions to the internet that I've seen in a while.

This city is magical

I'm always amazed  at how easy it is to slip back into old friendships. Seriously. I haven't seen these girls since my Wedding, which was close to two years ago. And yet here we are, laughing and chatting and just being friends.

Of course, being in a great city helps matters. Like most sane people I don't really love downtown, but Central Park is nothing short of magical. It's like a fairy kingdom there. 

Anyways. I'll do pictures and whatnot when I get home.  Mostly because I was silly and didn't bring my laptop and typing via Ipod touch or stealing someone else's just isn't that fun. Besides, kind of busy now.

Off to NYC

You guys! I'm on a train to NYC right now! (Actually if everything runs on time, and I'm using this scheduled post thing right, I just arrived in Penn Station) Why yes, yes I am excited.

Remember back in February, when I had that great facebook miracle hookup with my former roommate Mindy? Well, Mindy is currently living up in NYC for grad school. And another amazing former roommate/bridesmaid/friend galore, Jen, is visiting Mindy this week and next. Well, when Mindy and I were chatting, she mentioned how great it would be if I could come. I concurred, and while I just barely finished finals in time, I'm now on my way up for a little surprise visit. (Surprise for Jen, not Mindy. Somehow just showing up and saying let me intrude and sleep on your couch seems a tad rude). Oh joy.

Hello ladies, hello New York, hello hello!

It's going to be an epically amazing time.

Blogging Naked Faced

While I was procrastinating (again) I came across a post about Blogger's Without Makeup Day over at That Wife (idea originally from here, I think). I both like the idea on its own merits, and today the idea of an easy blog post seemed very nice.


So. This is me. Me on a very bad day. Me after having not showered since Tuesday (hello greasy, frizzy hair), still wearing pajamas from last night, with a cardigan tossed on because I can either choose humid stocky hot or turn on the A/C and turn the shoebox into Mr. Freeze's new hideout. And of course, no makeup. As an added bonus, please observe the boxes of impulse purchases that will be sent back, the overflowing trash can, and piles of dirty laundry.

And you know what? I'm ok with that. 

Helpful Hubby

Well, I still have another day to go before the end of exams. (I swear I'll stop talking about exams soon. I know it's a little dull and repetitive - mostly because it is the entirety of my life right now, and well, my life is currently dull and repetitive.) Zach, on the other hand, has been finished for a few weeks now. At first I was a bit bitter, then it moved into "if he is just laying around watching silly youtube clips, why can't I?" That phase didn't really work out so well. Which then moved me into the AHHH! I have 20pgs due in 36hours and my rough draft that I did last minute i,s a)only 10 pgs and b)really bad, phase. On the plus side, having a temporarily free husband is fairly useful. He's pretty good about being all sweet and asking if there is anything he can do for me. Which is great, especially when I feel silly/want cheap amusement and can ask him to do simple things in somewhat creative ways. Also? Requesting someone to bring you a glass of water while doing an Irish jig isn't that great of an idea. Just so you know.

Almost there

One more paper until sweet, blessed freedom. I think I may survive (I'm not sure, just optimistic.)

Unexpected Sounds

I almost always keep my phone on silent. Officially, this is just because I usually have it with me during class, and neither diving frantically into my bag trying to shut it off nor trying to pretend that my phone isn't the one belting out Queen Songs really appeals to me. However, this weekend I was expecting a call, so I switched the sound back on. The first time it blared its ridiculously loud power cords, I jumped about a foot in the air, limbs flailing in creative contortions that would be a hit at any modern dance festival. My heart was still racing for the first few minutes of the call. Thus reminding me the real reason why I tend to keep it on silent - loud, unexpected noises scare the living daylights out of me.

This is also why I hate people who have embedded music players on their websites, my nerves do not appreciate being assaulted with unexpected, obnoxiously loud Taylor Swift. Those things aren't just annoying, for me they're a bit of a safety hazard.

Part of One Another

I read somewhere once that even after a baby is born, the Mother  has some of the fetal blood forever mixed with her own, and the child likewise always has part of the mother in them. No matter what happens afterward, they are always a part of each other.

My Mom and I have all that genetic stuff tying us together. We also have years of life and memories, some bitter, some sweet, but all of which have linked us together in a way that I don't always understand, but I can feel and know is real nonetheless.

My mother and I are not kindred spirits. We don't naturally mesh. Sometimes I feel like we are just now starting to really get to know and appreciate who the other person truly is.

But we are a part of one another. And I'm grateful for that.

I would use my Tiger mostly for good

One of my more ridiculous fantasies is having a perfectly safe, obedient and awesome tiger named Sasha who stays by my side at all times as some sort of a specialty epilepsy service tiger. I'd like to say that this was my fantasy when I was six, but the Sasha delirium is actually fairly recent. Mostly, I just want to have a Tiger with me in the courtroom, preferably trained to growl on cue for maximum effect. Sasha would also enjoy sneaking up on visitors and roaring, playing with a strongly reinforced Frisbee and cuddling. Really, I just can't think of many scenarios that wouldn't be better with a Tiger.

This is clearly an entirely implausible, unrealistic idea that would result in someone being eaten. But Tigers, especially baby Tigers are still really cute.

The Gold Standard of Thriftiness

In general I'm a fan of the frugal. The good old use it up, wear it out, make it last or do without. It's one of those pesky side effects of growing up and buying your own things.

When I was kid I hated that I had to bring home my ziplock bags from lunch so they could be washed and reused. Oh how i emvied those kids who just throw their bags away, instead of shamefully hiding them in their backpacks and trying to ignore the faint, lingering scent of bologna. I swore that when I was all grown up I would buy my own bags, and throw them away.

Well, I broke that promise when I started buying my own, and the idea of just throwing away a perfectly good ziplock just seemed too much to bear. So, I started washing and reusing them. I thought that this was the absolute gold standard of thriftiness.

I was wrong. You see, Zach dries and reuses paper towels. It's a common sight to walk into our kitchen and see little rows of sad, white paper towels fluttering about as they air dry. I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed.

Pizza improves my brainpower?

I think there is some sort of scientific principle relating to the proximity of exams and the inability to eat healthily. Hello pizza delivery boy, yes, it's me again.

Now if I can just find cupcake delivery...

A is for Amazing

I take back every word of my last post. My wonderful, g-chatting professor's new status update informs me that grades are done, as does the lovely message in my inbox.

Uhm, wow. I usually consider myself lucky to get grades within two months after finals. But before finals even end? I think she may be a witch, but the good kind. 

No, wait. Now that I've wandered over to the grading website, I can see that she isn't just some ordinary witch. She is clearly a Goddess of great joy, wonder and amazement.

Hello little A. Remember me? We used to see each other frequently in undergrad. I've missed you so. Welcome back, and do feel free to bring some friends.

Teaching and Technology

Initially I found it kind of cool how tech friendly my Adoption law professor was, what with her use of text messaging and g-chat and everything. It was like she was a real person. As opposed to the many professors who either have their assistants type up their handwritten notes or still morn the loss of word perfect and refuse to learn how to use Microsoft products out of spite.*

Now I'm wondering whether there is something nice about the Luddites. Because now I'll wander over to G-chat and see her status updates. The last few which have been about grading. You see, one of the nice things with the end of a class is that you send in your final tests and papers, and then just let go. There isn't anything you can do to change things now, so you may as well relax until grades come in.

Seeing real time evidence that those tests and papers didn't magically disappear to be turned into letters is a little unnerving. I don't want to have to interpret what "grading, not as bad as feared..." means. Stop destroying my illusions. 


*In fairness, most of them are fairly tech friendly, at least as far as e-mail and power point go, and that's really all I need.  And none of them hand write things to have them typed up latter by assistants. No, to the best of my knowledge only Chief Justice Roberts is that out of it. 

The rightest

"I'm pretty sure that I'm more right than you...but I'm not sure I'm right right."

-Said by me to Zach last night, followed by us simultaneously making eye contact and cracking up. Oh, and for the record, I was right right.

Homebody

So, I haven't been outside since Wednesday. I'd like to say that this is the longest time that I've been confined to my apartment, but, sadly, that would be a lie. Saying that I'm a homebody would be an understatement. It's not that I really mind leaving these four walls, it's just that unless I have a reason too, I generally don't. And as my one and only on campus final isn't until Friday, we haven't needed any new groceries or other errands, and I avoid the library and all its evil stress energy around finals, that means I just haven't felt the pull to go out. Plus, if it's this humid inside my apartment, even with A/C blaring, I can't imagine what it is like outside. The little cactus icon my weatherbug widget is displaying doesn't exactly fill me with optimism.

Even if I have good reasons/excuses/rationalizations, there is still something a little creepy about being in the same small space for such a significant stretch. So, for the rest of finals, I'm instigating a 15 minutes of outside time a day policy, silly and pathetic though it may be. I don't care if I walk around the block three times or just sit on the lawn. I'm sure my vitamin D deprived skin will thank me.

Studying fail

So for the past few days I've had various word docs open, books strewn about, etc. At the end of each day, I'm a little put out when I realize that that, in and of itself, isn't quite enough. I'm not saying that I expect to open a document with hastily cut and pasted fragments, come back and find a polished outline. But I kind of am. I think I expect a little too much from my computer sometimes.