Christmas: The Ultimate Anticlimax

Every year I look forward to Christmas, starting in July.

And I actually love the fact that retailers are pushing Christmas items onto shoppers earlier and earlier each year. The more the merrier, I say. It's like a win-win. Good for business, and good for people who love the feel of Christmas in the air, like me.

And when November rolls around, it's a welcome non-stop Christmas-a-thon. On tv, in the movie theatres, in the malls, everywhere, strings of lights, red, and gold. Ho ho ho and good cheer to all.

And just when anticipation is at its most heightened frenzy, just when you can taste your vacation days beginning, that's when it all goes downhill.

You know what I'm talking about. Those few days beginning the 22nd or 23rd, when you start to spend serious time with family. Everyone flies in from the far corners of the earth and you're all stuck together in unfamiliar confines.

Now, I love my family, but let's face it. Home is where the annoyance, irritation, and sometimes worse, the heartache is.

On Christmas Eve, you usually find that one person has an ill-temper because they have the flu, one person just has an ill-temper as always, and there's always at least another who's simply absent because he or she doesn't care for Christmas. That's if you're lucky.

If you're unlucky, there's been a massive blow-out fight and presents won't be opened until New Year's Day.

Either way, you're the one left holding the bag...of decorations.

I know life is not an ABC Afterschool Special: Home for the Holidays, starring Tracy Gold. But why does it have to be so stark, the difference between the Christmas in my mind and the one in reality?

All I know is, it's just another example of anticipation being a bitch. The more you make out of something, the more disappointing the reality is. Actual Christmas suffers for the immense build-up our culture produces starting in early October. The perfectly trimmed tree, the perfectly scrubbed white family on tv, the music.

But even so, I won't give up the anticipation. In my head there is a perfect Christmas and I refuse to "re-adjust" it to cushion the blow of reality. I'm a cautious pessimist in every other aspect of my life (I probably won't lose that last 5% of body fat, I probably can't get perfectly clear skin, I probably won't ever love my job, and I'll probably never furnish my house the way I want), but damn it, I'm holding on to Christmas!

I will never stop hoping, anticipating, wishing, and trying, trying, trying. I don't care how many gifts I have to wrap, how many trees I have to decorate by myself, and how many Christmas songs I have to play...by myself too.

For the love of Christmas. The Dream lives on.


Hope you had the Christmas of your dreams and boldly anticipate a great New Year.

Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty I'm free at last!

I hate to trivialize words of such historic and cultural importance, but it captures my feelings like nothing else could. After being chained to my loathesome study desk, cramped in my back-breaking chair, for the better part of two months writing papers and finals. I'm finally, finally FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The first act of freedom? I'm going to the knitting store to start a new project! Yeah! I've only done hats and scarves in the past but I think I'm ready to move on to a sweater vest!

Legal Gems

Sometimes in the midst of reading dry legal materials, you come accross some inspired prose that jolts you out of your humdrum malaise with a snort and a chortle, like this passage from my professional responsibility treatise:

"To put it cynically, lawyers think they should be required to keep secrets where disclosure could avoid a grievous harm to others,...but they should be permitted to disclose relevant information when their own butts are in the sling."

Ha ha ha ha! Butts in a sling! That kills me! How often do you get to see the word 'butt' in legal texts? Ha ha ha.

Ok, clearly lawschool has deeply eroded my standards for what's funny.

Two views of a minor miracle

Lately there's been a lot of snow here. As a native Californian who never skis, it always feels like an eerie supernatural phenomenon.

Here are my attempts to remember this from two perspectives:

From within...



and without.

Things Fall Apart

On the immediate aftermath of a recent implosion, I still can't understand what happened. The end of an era, a dream--I knew it was too good to be true!

Things just fell apart.

Was it my fault? All of ours? What could have been done to save it? Why try ever again? Is it something I should file under "Q" for quixotic?

All I know is this. If you weren't on the same page to begin with, you shouldn't be surprised if one day you realize you're not even reading the same book.

And then you wonder if you really have anything in common at all? What's the point of it at all? Can there really be a relationship--much less a friendship--if conversation is strained, affiliation is lacking and interests are non-over-lapping?

What are we doing here then?

quizzes

You Passed the US Citizenship Test

Congratulations - you got 9 out of 10 correct!

Could You Pass the US Citizenship Test?

You Are 27 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

You Are Socks!

Cozy and warm... but easily lost. You make a good puppet.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

You Have Your Sarcastic Moments

While you're not sarcastic at all times, you definitely have a cynical edge. In your opinion, not all people are annoying. Some are dead! And although you do have your genuine moments, you can't help getting your zingers in. Some people might be a little hurt by your sarcasm, but it's more likely they think you're hilarious.

How Sarcastic Are You?

Men See You As Desirable

Men often find you immediately attractive and sensual You're honesty is refreshingly beautiful ... it draws guys in You are also able to be open with your feelings with no emotional baggage Packing light means you enjoy new relationships easily

How Do Men See You?

I've always wanted my own ch-ch-chia...

Which version do you like better?

(a) Picture one, nearly hairless.
(b) Picture two, very hair-ful.
(c) No facial hair, only full head of hair.
(d) Picture two, except no mustache please.
(e) Other.

Can I get a what what?

I miss the good ol' days when "A"s were handed out like Halloween candy--to pretty much every kid who showed up.

The "A"s started thinning out around college and now law school is down right brutal. I can't begin to express how much I hate the classic bell curve.

And it's not that the grades actually matter, because they don't. (I could get the same job pulling straight "A"s as I can with straight "B"s). But its the symbolism that counts.

"A" means good job.
Well done.
Excellent work.
You rock!

"B" means eh.

And that's what I miss most of all. The ego-stroking. It's so hard to get praise as you get older. Everyone gives kids so much darn credit for just standing there and looking effortlessly cute. "You're such a good boy!" "What a good helper you are!" "Gold star for you!"

But what about adults?

We need it just as much as kids (if not more), but suddenly, the well starts to run dry. Unless you are the creme de la creme, you will never hear a "good job." Employers expect you to do your job well--that's status quo. Thus you'll never hear a peep of praise unless you do your job freakishly well.

So for those of you who are superstars and always "feel the love"--good for you. I hate you and am secretly jealous.

But for the rest of us, the gigantic bulging middle of the curve, I say, solidarity brothers. Life is hard and praise is skimpy.

So let's remember to systematically lower the bar for each other.

The Other Dream

The American Dream is alive and kicking, as far as I know.

Sure there are pockets of political isolation and downward pressure that keep people from rising from poverty no matter how hard they try and how much they hustle. But all in all, this is still the land of opportunity and the purest system of meritocracy I know.

More than any other country, America offers upward mobility despite your race, religion, socio-economic background, or physical appearance.

If you are bright. If you test into the right schools. If you hustle. You can "make it". No matter who you are.

The only catch is that you have to be meritorious. You have to cut muster. You have to be in the top percentile. It is a meritocracy, after all.

Thus sometimes, even living in a meritocracy feels oppressive. Sometimes I just feel exhausted from the rat race. It's daunting and draining to strain to measure up every day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.

Somedays I wished I lived in a charitocracy. Where people are kind, no matter what. Even if you suck. Even if you're dull. And dumb. And boorish. And small-minded. Even if you make a mistake, or two, or ten.

A charitocracy: Where you don't have to strive for signficance and justify yourself through effort.

Because you already are.

Pain in the neck...and the shoulders...and

In order to graduate, every law student must write a big paper. Mine has been the bane of my existence for the last week or so.

My paper is due in early December and should have been started much earlier than I did. But I procrastinated. Big surprise.

But time pressure is not the worst part. The worst part is that I hate the subject. It is, to me, mind-numbingly boring. It's a paper about how to do research. Enough said. I don't even want to bore myself with the details of it here in my blog. Let's just leave it at that. I don't get excited about library of congress call numbers and database identifiers. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oops, I fell asleep even typing that!

Anyway, it feels like I spend my days watching paint dry, but add in some stress and anxiety because I still can't shake off the nasty feeling that my grades count for something.

Boy am I crabby.

Had to be there

Last weekend I went with a group of friends to, what I like to call, the Yosemite of the East, Franconia Notch State Park in New Hampshire.

It wasn't quite peak foliage, but the scenery did not disappoint. It's hard to describe what a magical and surreal experience it was walking through the Flume Gorge (full of waterfalls). I guess you had to be there.

But here's the next best thing:



I told Michael to get his best smile ready cause we'd probably get our Christmas Card picture from this trip. These are some contenders: (Feel free to let me know which one you think should make the coveted spot.)





And this last shot I just love. The composition, the scale, it's just amazing. It's like someone just photoshopped us into a 5000 piece puzzle! (Click on photo to enlarge).

Heartbreak Haiku

Darkness, emptiness.
Don't want to talk about it.
All hope is lost now.

Don't know when the heart
Will begin to hope again.
Part of me has died.

R.I.P. Cal's chance of National Championship Title 2007

OMG! WTF?

Still in shock and disbelief.

Sophmore, second-string, walk-on quarterback v. Heisman candidate.
Joke of a team v. #1 team in the nation.
Three fans v. Homefield advantage.
How could this happen?!


When crazy shit happens, I need a reason. I can't rest until I've found a logical explanation for it. Was it performance-enhancing drugs for Stanford? Was it over-confidant slacking for USC?

I was going crazy not knowing the reason for this epic upset, until Michael mercifully told me Booty broke his finger during the game.

Oh! That's what it was! I knew there was a good reason! A broken finger makes all the difference to a quarterback's passing game. Ok. Now I can relax. All is right with the world once again.

StanfURD still sucks.

Since when?

You think you'd know all about someone after 9 years.


But last weekend Michael and I went apple-picking with friends and he showed off some skills I had no idea he possessed.



What's next, fire-eating?

Wishlist Item of the Day

Most people already know that I am an avid couch potato and consummate purveyor of consumer goods (shopaholic). So naturally, when you combine the two, you get: The Home Shopping Network.

Yes, I spend a great deal of my day on HSN. Even when I'm "working" I have it on in the background and it fills my life with superficial joy.

I know all the hosts and hostesses by name, bannerline guests, their special pricing systems ("This day only" and "Today's Special"), and even the models' names! I know, I know, scary.

And every once in a while, I see something absolutely worth coveting, which I've decided to share on my blog.

Why? Perhaps it's my public-spiritedness, perhaps it's my irrespressible enthusiasm for the item, or perhaps its my attempt to half-justify a somewhat unhealthy activity.

For whatever reason, you, dear readers, are the beneficiaries.

So without further ado, here is my HSN Favorite Item of the Day:

Tula Candles

These are exquisite luxury candles with complex and exotic fragrances named after mythical goddesses and historical women of intrigue like the Princess of Nerola, Artemis' Dream, the Empress Josephine, and others.


Each has the purest burning wax and wicks of pure cotton so there is no black smoke and even the boxes it comes in are keepsakes because of their beautiful design. My personal favorite is the velvet votive set. This glass votive has ACTUAL velvet on its patterns!


With price points ranging from $12.95 to $24.95, this makes the perfect hostess or holiday gift for anyone. You'll never outstay your welcome if you bring this as a gift!

Hint, hint.

Blog Quiz: One Word Answers

1. Where is your cell phone? near

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend? married

3. Your hair? flat

4. Work? none

5. Your father? active

6. Your favorite thing? time

7. Your dream last night? bad

8. Your favorite drink? water

9. Your dream car? none

10. The room you're in? study

11. Your pet? monkey

12. Your fear? meningitis

13. What do you want to be in 10 years? purposeful

14. Where did you hang out last night? home

15. What you're not good at? losing

16. Eyebrow rings on the opposite sex? pretentious

17. One of your wish list items? therapist

18. Where you grew up? Cupertino

19. The last thing you did? homework

20. What are you wearing? pajamas

21. what aren't you wearing? makeup

22. What are you doing today? little

23. Your computer? functional

24. Your life? better

25. Your mood? average

26. Missing? goal

27. What are you thinking about right now? Paul Potts

28. Your car? dying

29. Your work? Q#4

30. Your summer? surreal

31. Your relationship status? Q#2

32. Your favorite color? coral

33. When is the last time you laughed? yesterday

34. Last time you cried? today

35. School? sucks

P.S. Let me know if you do this quiz so I can read yours.

Respect

Shame on you ABC for not broadcasting (on the East Coast) one of the most exciting games ever in college football history this Saturday!

(Aside: Cal gets no respect on the East Coast, I'm telling you. I walk around with my Cal shirt on and people are always asking me, "What school is that? Caltech? UCLA?" No fool, it's Cal! Or as Britney would say, "It's Berkeley bitch.")

Back to the main subject: For the first time in two decades, Cal won on Duck territory and boy was it a close one!

Here is the winning play by Cal safety Marcus Ezeff. Look closely at where his feet is. That's the goal line! With the Ducks one touchdown away from tying the game, Ezeff knocked the ball out of Duck receiver Cameron Colvin's hands a hairsbreadth from the goal line with literally seconds left in the game! I think I would've had a heart attack if I saw it in real time.


This historic win puts Cal at number 3 in the nation and still number 2 in the PAC-10! Yeah baby! Be-lieve! Cal is having its best season ever and I'm hoping that when they face USC in a few weeks it will be two undefeated titans squaring-off in epic battle. Gosh I would love to be on tight-wad hill for that one.


No doubt that game will be broadcasted live on the East Coast. But that's only because USC's playing. When will Cal finally get some respect?! When it wins the national championship?

Hey, it could happen.

Inductee Into Fraudster's Hall of Fame

I just love a good fraud.

Remember Azia Kim, the teen who pretended to be a Stanford student for a good 9 months or so? Love her.

Remember the quiet unassuming bureaucrat who was actually a Russian spy for 20 odd years? Loved that.


And now there's Tania Head, a woman who claims to be a 9/11 survivor but who's story has never been verified. Read the gripping account here.

You know how I know she's probably guilty of fraud? She lawyered up. Her lawyer/mouthpiece tells reporters: “With regard to the veracity of my client’s story, neither my client, nor I, have any comment.”

No comment. There's a telltale sign if there ever was one.

I don't know why I love frauds and fraudsters. Maybe it's their ballsiness, that they dare tell a baldface lie to everyone they meet. Maybe it's morbid curiosity about the depths of treachery that everyday people are capable of. Maybe it's simple shadenfreude.

And maybe, just maybe, it's the mystery that fraudsters imbue to even the most mundane events of our lives: going to school, picking up mail, etc.

Who knows? Who knows whether your friendly neighborhood CPA is actually a huge Ponzi schemer? A mass murderer? A sociopathic spy? It just makes life a little more interesting for the rest of us.

That old familiar feeling

Lately I've been walking around in a daze,
thinking about everything and nothing,
contemplating my navel and my gut,
and getting nowhere it seems.

I have way too much unstructured time on my hands.

Last time this happened, I decided to go to lawschool.
And the time before that, seminary.
And the time before that, to be a classical languages major.

This time...
it's not like I can run off and start a new venture now, since the jaws of death (i.e., working for a law firm) is waiting for me right around the corner.

But in the few remaining months, I have just enough time to drive myself crazy thinking about where my life is going and not enough time to do anything about it.

What Senioritis Looks Like

Here I am "studying"...

The End of Student-hood

It's slowly dawning on me that this is my last year here. In law school. On the East Coast. As a student.

From here on out, if everything goes according to plan, I will be a working stiff, a homebody, and never again, a formal student.

This year should be the last year of two decades of schooling. (Wow, that's a lot of debt!)

And how do I feel about it?

Quite relieved actually. I've never liked formal education. From here on out, I can study what I want and ignore what I don't care about. I will only write what I feel and not care about the page limit. I will learn for the sake of learning and not for that cursed grade, that ever threatening and ominous shadow that sucks the life and joy out of the naturally invigorating experience of learning!

But of course, without the whip and lash of the grade, I may never actually try to learn again, lazy mind that I am.

Prisoner and Warden

At some point I realized that I never gave myself permission to do things that I wanted to do.

Sure I could do small things, like buy an extravagant purse, or spend a day goofing off, or even a week.

But lifelong commitments of significant time and cost were off-limits.

How liberating it is then to realize you have completely no motivation to do anything that you think you should do, and the only thing you can muster up the energy to do is the only thing you want to do.

God, save me from myself.

The Devil Update

I've decided on the heavy-set unibrow chick with a slight mustache.

Back in Beantown EditionFinal Travelblogue: Weeks 12-13 of 13

So the last few weeks of my "adventures" in California happened too fast for me to blog about in a timely manner. But a few incidents stand out:

The Horror!
Went shopping with Tammy and found the most hideous couture ever.


It's like the bastard child of Cookie Monster and Sgt. Pepper. It's double-double-breasted for crying out loud! Oh yeah, and it's $4,195. Ridic!

Sing It Again Vusi
Heard Vusi Mahlasela perform at Yoshi's in Jack London Square. The intimate venue was the perfect setting to soak in the sounds of Africa sung by this poet-activist who has performed for Nelson Mandela.


Loved the music so much I got the CD. I never buy CDs. Well worth it. It's like a cross between Dave Matthews, folk, and well, African music. Mellow, hopeful, melodious.


A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Went to the beautiful coastal town of Half Moon Bay with Mother and Brother.


A wave of nostalgia flooded over me as we walked along the beach, picking up iridiscent shells and sand-smoothed rocks.


The California coastline never disappoints.


Meet Me in St. Louis, St. Louis!
Had an amazing 4-day fun-PACKED visit to see Mandi in St. Louis. Ever since we moved away 2 years ago I have missed her so much!


Mandi was the consummate hostess with the most-est. She drove me all around the city, she braved the 99 degree weather with me, and she even indulged my knitting bug and love of puppies.


She's one of few people in the world that make me feel more like myself when I'm with her than when I'm not. I have to figure out how to move her to NorCal!

Travelblogue: Weeks 9-11 of 13: Countdown to Freedom

A lot has happened since I last posted. Here are the highlights:

Tuesday, July 17: Moving Day

Today my brother and I moved into a new abode. It's a very nice duplex in a very shady part of town. I sleep with a knife next to my bed and when my brother's not home I block all the doors with chairs.

The walk from the new house to BART takes twenty minutes. I frequently take a taxi back to avoid leering advances and the taunts of little children shouting, "I hate Chinese!"

I swear I saw gun fire one night followed by 7 more shots. I called my brother to come home in a hurry and told him what I heard. He was not happy to be inconvenienced by, what he claims, were just firecrackers.

Lately I feel better because I've seen a few nerdy looking white people walking around. I no longer feel like I stick out like a sore, light-skinned, and business-attired thumb.

Wednesday, July 18: Baby on Board!

No, not me.

I found out today that my friends Stephen and Emily are pregnant! It was an accident but still very welcomed and exciting nevertheless.


I ran out and bought them Baby Birkenstocks. Thoroughly appropriate because (1) they live in Berkeley and (2) the shoes are unisex!


I love when my friends have babies. I have an excuse to buy adorable outfits and shoes, and can playfully poke their cherubic chub to my heart's content without any responsibility, bone-tired fatigue, or parental guilt. Ah the joys of other people's kids.

Friday, July 20: Two Magicians and 900 Pages of Delight

Forget Harry Potter. I'm talking about Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell.

If you're looking for a "ravishing...superb" novel that "combines the dark mythology of fantasy with the delicious social comedy of Jane Austen into a masterpiece of the genere that rivals Tolkien"--and frankly, aren't we all--then look no farther than this tome about two magicians and the history of English magic by Susanna Clarke.


I never read novels because so many are crappy, but I am eating this one up!
(Shout out to Stephen George for recommending it! You rock. I owe you big time man.)

Friday, July 27: A Civilized Goodbye

Today Erin, my next-door officemate, and fellow summer associate finished off her last day. We celebrated with a Summer Associate lunch (there's only 3 of us left now!):




And then had high-tea at the Nordstrom Rotunda whilst discussing Jane Austen and sticking out our pinkies when raising our teacups (just kidding about the pinkies.)


Saturday, July 28: The Kayakers

Tammy and I went kayaking with my firm today in the beautiful California Bay.


I don't know if I'm more impressed with the fact that she roused herself at the crack of dawn to go kayaking with me at 7:45am on a Saturday, or that she came completely prepared with snack bars, bananas, water shoes, windbreaker, and everything else recommended on the kayaking website. That woman is thorough, prepared, and quite the trooper. I should call her The Girlscout from now on.


Tammy and I shared a two-person kayak and our lagging position in the group said a lot about the state of our upper-body strength. But towards the end, Tammy realized that the sooner we reached shore, the sooner we could partake of a gourmet brunch (on the company dime of course). Suddenly, having voiced that logic, Tammy began to row like a maniac and I was surprised at how quickly a kayak could glide through the water! That girl loves her brunch.

Wednesday, August 1: Gadfly Reprise

Today the Gadfly called to ask me to lunch.

I had thought good and long about what I would say when this moment came and I told him my carefully rehearsed excuse:

"Well, I've been really busy lately so I don't think we could have lunch. I could probably get coffee with you sometime though..."

To which he replied that he's too busy to do coffee. And that was that. I was beyond relieved that I should probably never have to talk to him again.

Postcript: So close and yet so far away...

I have only 1.5 more weeks of work left. (Yay!!!!)

I have only 2 more weeks until I return home to Boston. (Waiting for this is the hardest).

Then I have only 2 weeks before school starts. (Boo!!!!)

And then I have 9 months until I move back to the Bay Area. (yay)

Travelblogue: Week 9 of 13: The Gadfly

Monday, July 9: My Gadfly

Today I met an abrasive old man that blatantly challenged my life choices. Socrates, anyone?

I was standing in the casual carpool line, minding my own business, when this hold-over from the hippie activist era starts talking to me. And before you know it it's:

"You know, I was an HLS grad too, back in '67. I used to do sit-ins in the South. I hate George Bush and his cronies. This country's going to shit. I'm a lawyer for poor people and civil liberties. You shouldn't work for a corporate firm. That's for greedy, soul-less sell-outs. I pay my summer intern $15 an hour. And they do real, purposeful, IMPORTANT work, not like you pencil-pushing slaves to the Man."

I looked at his beat-up briefcase with frayed corners, his low-rent clothes, his smug expression of contempt, and was quite dismayed when we happend to share the same car to work.

Tuesday, July 10: A World of Judgment

Today I went to, what felt like, a roomful of judgment.

I attended one of the many fundraising meals that big law firms sponsers to support legal defense funds for the indigent, battered, and generally dispossesed.

The cynic would say: this is how Biglaw market themselves to new recurits as kind and caring.

The optimist would say: this is how Biglaw shows that it can be kind and caring.

The one steeped in a guilt-based western religion would say: this is how Biglaw purges its guilty conscience from its seven-figure salaries and pencil-pushing slavery to the Man when it should be devoting itself to defending the poor and powerless.

Usually this kind of event wouldn't cause any introspection on my part, but then who should show up, but my own personal Gadfly! How did he find me in a roomful of over 500 stuffy suits?

Then came the predictable barrage of disparagements:

"Don't you wish you were doing this kind of work for the poor and oppressed? You rode a taxi here? My gosh you have money to burn! It's only a 20 minute walk. I guess you need to go back to your "important" work now (dripping with sarcasm)."

If ever I felt like an acolyte of a guilt-based western religion, it was today.

Thursday, July 12: We've got to stop meeting like this.

I went to a reception thrown by the local bar association for Judges. It's a meet-and-greet, press-the-judge's-flesh kind of mingle with big and small law firms alike.

Guess who I saw again? Yeah.

So he insists that I set up a lunch meeting with him next week and I'm too tired to fight it. Maybe he'll say something interesting. Maybe he'll just stoke the fire of guilt some more. And maybe I'll rethink my whole life.

Postscript:

It would be easy for me to dismiss this man. It would be easy to justify any job as fulfilling the cultural mandate to subdue the earth in some regard. Each worker, in his own fashion, is making some order out of chaos.

It would be easy to dismiss the large checks as merely a hazard that "comes with the territory." And as we can all recite, it's not money that is evil, but the "love of money," aka greed.

But what is not easy to dismiss is my own fear of poverty, my strong desire for secuirty, and the fact that everyone's standards of what is "moderate living" is only relative.

I should also say that I wish never to arrogate myself as judge over those who may choose what the Gadfly disapproves of. Who am I to say who is good and who is evil, or even what is good and what is evil? The heart of man is a nasty labyrinth. His true motives, who can know?

Travelblogue: Week 8 of 13: July Fly By

Sunday, July 1: Not Memorable

Monday, July 2: Not Memorable

Tuesday, July 3: Very Memorable

Today the firm went to CIRCUS SCHOOL!!!!!

That's right, I said CIRCUS school. Not clown school, that's different. But it was terrifying in another way...the trapeze.

First I saw the teacher on the trapeze and thought: Hell no, I'm not doing that.

Then they put a big harness belt on us. Tres chic, no?


I was shaking like a leaf, climbing up the 30 foot ladder.



Hands out, grab the bar.


Get ready to go...(They had to shout "Go!" at me three times before my leaden legs found the strength to jump off the platform).


And here I am, trying to swing my legs onto the bar so that I can...


let go of the bar and swing from my legs only!


So relieved to hit the net.


It was thrilling, and by thrilling, I mean terrifying. I want to do it again! Kind of...

July 4th: A Living National Monument

Spent the day with fam, hiking in Muir Woods, the only living national monument.


The misty shade of giant redwoods shielded us from the heat wave...


and made me feel like a child, lost in a land of wonder.


Brother lead the way...


Mom and Dad followed...


and stopped to pose for kodak moments,


while Brother studied the map.



And then we stopped by the gorgeous California coast line. Because we can. Because it's California: the best place in the world to live.


Thursday, July 5: Working hard to finish a memo due tomorrow.

Friday, July 6: Working hard to finish a memo due today.
Didn't finish!

Saturday, July 7: The Luckiest Day in the Year

Today I planned a Girl's Day Out in the City with Mom to celebrate her birthday.


First we went to get massages here:


Then had a swanky lunch here:



And then "shopped" at high-end stores (and by shop, I mean browsed and laughed at who would pay $120 for a shirt at Saks when the same thing at Ross would be $12.99).


Today marks the first time in our lives that I treated my mom to eat and recreate. Before I was too cash-strapped to even foot part of a bill from a greasy Chinese joint. But now, I have arrived: full-fledged adulthood.

Sunday, July 8: Self-imposed Deadline

I went into work today to finish the memo I couldn't finish on Friday. It felt good to finally get it done and not have to ask for yet another extension (which I've done at least twice for each assignment so far!). Yikes.