I believe it's "jogging." Or "yogging." It might be a soft "j." I'm not sure, but apparently it's where you just run for an extended period of time.

I am not exactly what you would call "built for running." I have disproportionately short legs, not a lot of lower body strength, and a hype-extended epiglottis that makes is difficult to breathe when I'm exerting myself. My running form is terrible and is best described as "running away from nothing drunk." But I also like being healthy, not being fat (need to offset my sugar addiction somehow), and I really like a challenge.

So when my boyfriend announced he was going to get back into running, I decided I would run with him. After all, I worked out with my girl Jillian Michaels 4-6 days a week and I was no stranger to torturing myself running on the treadmill.

Here's the thing. In addition to the physical challenge running presents for my short, weak, hyperventilating body, I also hate it. I loathe running. You know all those people who carry on about "runner's highs" and how if they don't run every day, they're just miserable and depressed? I want to shove those people's Nikes up their pooper. I definitely do not think of myself as a "Runner," nor do I ever plan to become one of Those. I call myself "A Person Who Runs." It's how I sleep at night.

So I'm not really sure why it is that I have decided I must do the running. I like challenges, but I also like not running. But to be completely honest, with no classes and no job, I need something to do. I am a person who picks some Thing, commits, and then does not give up on that thing, no matter what. For the past three years, that Thing has been school. Now that there is no more school, there is no more Thing, and I just can't live without a Thing! (That's what she said, Brady.)

Brady and I started Project Running around the middle of October. We started out running and walking up and down Rio Solado, then to a park near Brady's house. Mulder had been joining us, but after the third trip or so, it became clear his short little corgi legs were not going to be able to keep up, so he stays home and gets my glass of wine ready for me when I trudge in the door. Not really, but I wish.

We've been doing the whole increasing distance thing and acting like People Who Run. When I moved home, I was worried I would just stop running on my own. I've actually managed to keep it going, though. Brady comes over and we run together a couple nights a week, and when he isn't here, I challenge myself to run faster by doing faster/slower 30-second intervals. Counting keeps my mind off how much I dislike what I am doing. I also ran farther today. I have a Nike+GPS app on my phone, but I don't use it, because that means I have to buy an armband, and I'm worried that spending $30 on something I will use only for running will take me out of the "Person Who Runs" category and put me firmly into "Running."

I'm not sure how I have gone from "NOIAMNOTGOINGRUNNINGWHATISWRONGWITHYOU" to "hey, are you coming over to run with me tonight?" I think it might have something to do with not wanting to give up while Brady is still truckin' away, like a jerk. It might also have to do with the fact that running is actually getting easier. I still do Jillian Michaels, and ever since I added her new "Killer Buns and Thighs" into the mix, I've found running not so painful. Thanks, muscles! So there's that. I could not run without Jillian Michaels.

So anyway, there you go. I am a Person Who Runs, pretty regularly, more than a mile. I've promised myself that if at any point, it hurts or I start to seriously loathe it. I will not do when I do not feel well, but I will do it even when I just don't feel like it. And I just checked Amazon, and it looks like a passable armband is less than I thought, so I might just suck it up and invest. Then you guys can check my distance and time on Facebook and cheer for me! You can validate me, but do not call me a Runner. That Nike and "up the pooper" thing applies to you, too.

Mulder: Not a Runner. He's a Prancer.

Favorite/Least Favorite

Welp, whether I am ready for it or not (I am not ready), the "holiday season" is upon us. I firmly don't believe that Christmas decorations should be sitting on shelves while Halloween candy is still on sale, but I am apparently in the minority. It's not that I don't like Christmas! I do! I really like Christmas. But there are a lot of things that I don't like about it, too, and two solid months of the things I hate makes me build up resentment for the holiday as a whole and the things I like are usually crushed by all the things I hate about the 12th time I hear Feliz Navidad.

Favorite Things:

• Cute Christmas crafts
• Candles
• Fires in the fireplace
• Coffee Christmas morning while gazing at the tree all lit up in the dark (with the dog fence around it because we still don't trust those beasts not to ruin everything while we sleep)
• Decorating
• Christmas lights
• Watching "A Year Without a Santa Clause," "A Christmas Story," "Christmas Vacation,"  and the claymation "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" while baking Christmas cookies with my mom.
• Eating all the Christmas cookies.
• Putting Christmas clothes on the dogs "to keep them warm." Not because it's cute as heck! That's not why at all.
• Making gifts, keeping in mind things I am good at - cooking and embroidery. You will receive no oddly-shaped scarves from me.
• Eating and drinking with my family members all afternoon.

Least Favorite Things:

• Christmas music everywhere. 
• Christmas music starting any point before Thanksgiving, although I wish it were only played the week before Christmas.
• Inflatable characters in front yards. It drives the poor dogs crazy.
• When it looks like Christmas had a stroke and then puked all over someone's house.
• Finding gifts for everyone, but mostly people I know well enough to buy them a Christmas gift but not well enough to know what's perfect for them. Uuuuuugh, so stressful. 
• How everyone behaves in public. I thought it was a time for CHEER, not shoving your shopping cart towards my car after you unload all your crap, having meltdowns over whether some stupid toy is on sale, or storming through a store like a tornado and literally mowing people down when they wander into your path. I pretty much hate leaving my home during this time of year.
• Wrapping gifts. If this is your favorite thing, I hate you. Maybe if you got stuck wrapping everyone's gifts for everyone but you on Christmas Eve night, you wouldn't love it so much, you jerk.
• How Thanksgiving totally gets the shaft. It's only the best holiday of the year, because it has all the fun of family and food and drinking but it's not nearly as expensive or stressful, but all of the turkeys and squash and pumpkin pies get trotted out in the middle of all the baubles and sequins and buche de Noel of Christmas, totally don't fit in, and then just kind of sulk off into the cardboard box from whence they came while everyone is making turkey and cranberry sandwiches the next day. Poor Thanksgiving.

So? Am I big communist jerk for the things on this list or what? What are your thoughts on the holiday season?

The Scariest Thing I Could Imagine Happened to Someone Else

A funny thing happened a couple weeks ago. The Arizona State Bar posted a PDF to their website. It had the names of people who passed the Exam I, along with 75% of my friends, took in July. My name was on the list. This made me happy. Really happy. I was so happy I cried. I was also really happy because my boiyfriend's name was also on the list. We were a very happy little couple of attorneys.

But then, once we had calmed down, we looked at the list again. There were a couple names I didn't see. I tried using the search function to look for them, wondering if maybe they had a different last name I didn't know about, possibly because they were fugitives, or in witness protection. I still didn't find them. At first, I was surprised, and then I was sad. I was really, really sad. It made it difficult to be happy, because every time I would think "yay! I passed!" I would think "but..."

I didn't really know how to handle this. I decided not to say anything to anyone until they contacted me. But even when I got a text message, I didn't really know what to do. I had studied with these people, conferred with them, eaten very late dinners with them in a study room that was starting to smell. We had complained about BarBri together (the website went down about a week before the exam and I think we all nearly had heart attacks). We had all practically lived together for a couple of months, in a very tiny room, and I just assumed that if one of us had passed, it meant we all did, because we were all so close and had done the same work. When it turned out that wasn't the case, I kind of felt like it was my fault. Had I asked too many questions and distracted them? Had at some point I said something incorrect and they used it on the test? Had I chewed my food too loudly when I snacked?

No. We all put in as much work as we could, we did the best we could with what we had on a very particular couple of days. The truth is, it isn't my fault someone else didn't pass. I blamed myself because it helped me accept what happened. I couldn't believe that they would fail, so when they did, my brain had to create reasons. I knew they had studied as hard as I did and I knew they cared as much as I did, and I knew they deserved to pass, but it didn't make sense that they didn't pass like I did, and because I don't know what was going on their brain or in their off time, but also because I always assume other people are doing more, working harder, or are smarter than I am, my instinct was to think that I was the one who someone made them fail. I felt guilty because someone else didn't pass.

But the truth is that it isn't my fault. The truth is that we all have days when we are on and days when we are not. But every day we try our hardest. On July 26 and 27, their hardest wasn't their usual hardest, probably by only a little bit. And the important thing is that I REALLY hope they know that those two days do not define them. I hope they are able to see this as a set-back, another challenge. I really believe God does not give us any more than we can handle, so if they have to do this test again, it must be because they can handle it.

I have great plans for January. I'm going to bake treats, make dinners that they can eat as leftovers for lunch, and write supportive notes. Not because it's my fault they didn't pass, but because they're my friends and I want them to know they'll always be my friends and I will support them even more than I did the first time around.

Top O' the Morning!

I'm not usually functioning this early in the morning. But today I've been wide awake since 5:30, lying in bed reading blog comments on my iPhone. This past week it came out that a well-known blogger in the Anthro community had been taking people's money for her personal shopping service and then not delivering on her promises. Apparently everyone who was involved just kind of suffered in silence, thinking it was just a long string of mistakes, and that they were somehow at fault, and probably also a little scared to say anything, because of how well-known this blogger is. Then on September 13 one person had enough and chronicled her personal ordeal on her blog, and then all of the sudden there are like 100 other people with thousands of dollars being (hopefully) refunded. It was most likely criminal action, and I really hope someone pursues it legally, because the more you read, the more evidence there is that the months and month of lies, deception, and "lost" email, packages, tracking numbers, etc., amounted to more than accidents and mistakes. Now there's also talk that this particular shady blogger has a shopping addiction that fueled her lies, and possibly also was the motivation to start a "service," given her past behavior. Consumerism can make you do crazy things. Scratch that. She did crazy things because she is (probably) (a little, at least) crazy. Consumerism was the conduit for her crazy.

I wasn't involved in any part of this, except as a spectator, which is how I like my drama, anyway. You know me- I love stories that don't involve me. Anyway, even though I'm just a comments-reader in the whole ordeal, it has really got me thinking. The girl calls herself, essentially, and Anthropologie addict, and really, isn't that sad? Don't get me wrong - I have a very addictive personality, which has manifested itself in my work and in working out, and to some extent, shopping, but I'm happy to say I can definitely cut back/go cold turkey when needed, when it comes to spending money. Anthro is pretty and all, but really, most of it is not much better quality than, say, H&M or Urban Outfitters (the UO thing makes sense, since they're owned by the same parent company), but at multiple-times the cost. I'm also been outsized several times, especially in dresses, and I had recently fallen in love with a couple different pencil skirts, only to find some disturbing fit issues once I tried them on. I had a couple hundred dollars in gift cards I accumulated from birthdays and prior returns, and I'm down to about $50 and having a really hard time using it up. Between fit issues, quality issues, disenchantment with the "image," and now this whole scam thing, I just kind of have a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to all things Anthro (not that Anthro was involved in the scam at all, but given their involvement with that particular blog, I really hope they take a stand and cut off ties). I definitely have a handful of skirts from the store that I still love, but it's really hit or miss, and really, even the better quality items are suitably priced when they're on markdown, and it takes a lot of time to weed through all the items that are not worth even their second-cut price. I don't know, maybe part of it is also that I'm more focused on nesting, for some reason. I feel more pull toward coffee table books and candles than turquoise pencil skirts that turn evil on you as soon as you put them on and striped maxi dresses I could find at F21 for $100 less than Anthro wants for them. So, long story short, goodbye, Anthro. It's not you; it's me. Well, it's kind of you.

The other reason I have been wide awake for so long is that I am a sad panda. The tagline for this blog is about being the person I want to be, and I am really sad to say that I failed to be the person I not only want to be, but the person I thought I was. I pride myself on being reliable and responsible and doing the right things, but at some point, several times, over the past week, I made the same mistake. I dropped the ball, and now I have lost something I actually really liked. Everyone who knows the story insists I didn't do anything wrong, and really, I don't know what I could have done to avoid this. I was conscientious and thorough, I checked, double-checked, and triple-checked, not one day but 2 days, and I missed something really important. And now I'm embarrassed and disappointed. I don't blame anyone else, though the people who know the situation maintain that someone else messed up and I took the farr, but I can't do that. Even if I wasn't wrong, then karma will work out someone else's mistake, and if I am, then the best thing I can do is own up to it and accept the consequences. I'm just sad that I feel like I let so many people down. And that's why I can't sleep. But I firmly believe that regardless of the how, the why is that there is something else I need to do. I don't know what that is yet, but when the door opens, I'll jump up and run through it, because it has to be good.

So, that brings us to 8:30. Got my coffee, got my puppy on my lap, getting ready for a Sunday Funday of... I don't know! Brady has people coming to look at his furniture (did I mention he decided he wants to change up his furniture and decor style? as someone who does not currently possess a penis and thus does not find comfort in cube-y black leather couches and maroon and hunter green accent walls, I am very excited about this. I know I have my own living room to decorate, but I really do spend a lot of time in his living room, and I'm excited to see Brady put his personal spin on his home - with some gentle nudging from me, of course). We'll also stream the Jags game - Brady's brother in law is starting today, and Brady wants to wear his jersey! Hope Craigslist shoppers are not Jets fans.

I'm Back, and I Have Something to Say That is Not About Law School or the Bar Exam

I have opinions. Sometimes they are not popular opinions. Sometimes they make other people angry. I have a feeling this might be one of those times.

This is about September 11. I don’t know if you were aware, but last Sunday was the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center. Oh, you knew? Okay. Just want to establish a context.

If you knew about that, and then you were anywhere near the internet that day, you probably also read about a gazillion people’s documentation of “where they were” that day. People who were dragging other people out of rubble or serving water to those who fled from the collapsing towers, people in the Pentagon, people in D.C., and then people in Oklahoma, and all the way out to the West Coast, everyone had something to share.

I was in Goodyear. It was about 5:30 in the morning and I was conked out in bed. I could have been farther away from the terror and agony the East Coast was witnessing. By the time I turned the news on, everyone was in agreement that this was, in fact, a terrorist attack and that the plane that landed in a field in Pennsylvania was actually intended for the White House or Capital. I watched this from the safety of my living room. I knew no one who was in danger, no one I was worried about. The only thing I really cared about personally was how the possibility of us going war was going to affect my education, especially if they were going to start a draft that included women, because I am a small person and I only run if someone is chasing me and there is a very real threat of death. Yes, I know. Selfish. Like I said, I felt no connection to what was happening.

It’s not as if I didn’t worry for the people who were actually dying or scared of dying. I watched those towers fall over and over again, and every time, my breath caught in my throat and I wanted to cry. Family members, someone’s best friend, someone who had fought with their spouse that morning, not to mention all the people who would die of the injuries inflicted on their lungs in clean-up efforts years later – so many people dead and lost. It’s tragic; one of the most tragic things this country has experienced. I know you know this. I just want to make sure you know that I know this, because I’m about to become unpopular.

Over the next ten years, “Never Forget” became just as much a national motto as “Land of the Free and Home of the Brave.” You can get that slogan emblazoned on bumper stickers or across the back windows of your truck, or buy it on a shirt or on a sign to stick in your yard. “Never Forget.” I know we’re talking about the importance of remembering that there are people out there who want to kill us because we live in a republic and believe in a democracy and we let blacks and women vote and we are all allowed to have opinions – people who hate us because we have that freedom. But I think “Never Forget” has done more harm than good.

Can we ever forget about all that when we’re reminded every day by the escalating war debt and our omnipresence in Iraq, and the number of people who died there and are still dying there. I don’t think we’re in danger of forgetting any time soon.

You know who really loves “Never Forget”? People who want us to keep living in fear. People who advise against going to large public events because you never know when someone is going to fly another plane into something big. People who want you to keep relying on the government to protect you.

People who run the security at the airports.

You know those cancer machines that every tenth person lucks into and then gets to choose “cancer or molestation”? Never forget. We give strangers x-ray vision under our clothes, or permission to touch us in ways that we tell kids only mommy and daddy and your doctor should touch you. We decide the chance of cancer is less important than the chance of another yahoo taking over a plane with box cutters again. And apparently the nearly naked visual check/invasive “pat down” is the best way to find these would-be box cutter wielders. You never know – it could be that 3-year-old in the Elmo shirt.

We should be safe. Definitely run everyone through a metal-detector. But a knee-jerk reaction never works out well. Case in point: The Patriot Act. People were clamoring for some kind of “protection” immediately after September 11, and now the government can listen in to your phone conversations and monitor your computer searches and emails. And we all agreed that this was necessary ten years ago. Because of The Terrorists. We let the government monitor our personal effects and willingly sacrificed our privacy and the Fourth Amendment. Did any of that actually make us safer? Did the government being able to scan internet use prevent terrorist attacks? Maybe it did, but I’m willing to bet it didn’t. What it did was make us FEEL better. The backscatter machines are the same knee-jerk, dog-and-pony show. We refuse to forget that at any second, The Terrorists could come and steal our planes, so we let the government herd us into machines that dose us with unregulated amounts of radiation, or touch us inappropriately. Those machines are called “virtual strip searches.” A strip search! Of people who are not suspected of doing anything wrong but desiring to board an airplane. Why? So we all feel safer. But still people wear “Never Forget” shirts.

In a way, we shouldn’t forget. One of my dearest friends was on the Hill September 11, and if that downed plane in Pennsylvania had reached its destination, she might not be here today. I chose to write this after I read, on the tenth anniversary, her recounting of the events, of her fear and apprehension as for all she knew, another plane was headed her way with a huge target on the Capital. It means the world to me that she is here. I mean no disrespect to those who died or those who lost people, and no disrespect to the American principles that inspire so much hatred in others that they would want to destroy our country. I’m not saying we should move on and forget. Those who lost people in terrorist attacks should continue to mourn their dead as long as they need. We should continue to fight for the health benefits for the people who become ill cleaning up the rubbish. We should appreciate those who lost their life fighting the war. And we should always remember that people will try to take our freedom away from us. I am saying that the Fourth Amendment is slowly dissolving before our eyes, and before long, we will not only lose our freedom, we will have handed it over on a flag-draped platter.

What to Expect When You're Taking the Bar

Two weeks before the Bar, the weird dreams/nightmares kick in.

One week before the Bar, you cry hysterically over a commercial or episode of Glee. It's especially weird because you're crying over something Rachel says, and normally you want to stab Rachel. You will sob and sob and sob in the fetal position while your boyfriend stares at you in confusion. Realize this is why no one wants to marry you. Cry some more.

Six days before the Bar, you can't get access online bar materials. You think about suing the internet. Your brain starts thinking about the rules of joinder. You forget the analysis for an indispensable party. Cry.

Five days before the Bar you start picking fights with people in your head. You win, but you still cry.

Four days before the Bar, you go out in public and are amazed at all these awake, alert people who are doing things like going to wine tastings. You realize you have forgotten that people do things like that. You cry.

Three days before the Bar, you go to the coffee shop because you need to see actual people. You listen to music in your car and sing along and drink your iced coffee. When you get home, you can't bring yourself to turn off the car and go study. Sit in the car. Cry.

What will the next two days be like? I'm scared.

The Official Apology Letter, and Studying for the Bar Sucks

Maybe you remember me telling you I was going to blog my outfits while I studied for the bar? Perhaps you seem to remember a few posts wherein I did that? And those posts had pictures? Ah! Happy Annie. That was long ago. These days my wardrobe is a rotation of yoga pants and tee shirts. That's it. I do have a couple pictures to share with you, but when I promised you near-daily posts of outfits, I had yet to realize the panic and despair that sets in when there are three weeks left to go before the bar. It isn't fun. It isn't pretty. It means that you cry a lot, provoked my stupid things (maybe an ASPCA commercial perhaps, and no, not even the Sarah McLaughlin one, or maybe an episode of Glee, I'm just saying maybe). It means that you can't fall asleep and you are stress-tired. And maybe there was a time you cried because you wanted your mom, but you're a grown up and shouldn't do things like that anymore probably, again, just saying maybe that could happen to you. And you will probably get so angry at the noise of people TALKING in a hallway that you make signs with the rules of assault and battery that you will inflict on them if they don't shut it, plus a brief description of assumption of the risk and transferred intent. You stop working out because it just seems like too much, and then when you DO workout, your ab muscle cramp up and you don't know what because that never happened before. And you know what that last thing is that you want to do when you get home between 8 and 9 in the evening? If you said open up your laptop and write words, you are correct. I didn't take pictures, I didn't write, and I drifted off to sleep thinking "This suuuuuuuuuuuuuucks..." instead. So I let you down, and I'm sorry, but maybe I did that thing where I said "YES!" to everything and then didn't do all those things.

So, okay, I didn't keep up like I was supposed to. And I'm just not going to be able to deal with knowing there's something I am supposed to do that I am failing to do for the next two weeks. I'm going to take an unapologetic break from this blog, and then, after I recover from the trauma of the bar exam, I'll be back with happiness and dresses and rainbows. Oh and ponies. Like this.

I remember horses. And outside. And smiling.

See you guys in a couple weeks.

Love,
Annie

What I Wore for Evidence, Contracts 1, and also IN YOUR FACE

What I Wore for Evidence Day 1 (Friday):

Ruched Hourglass Top from Anthropologie

Levi's Jeans via Macy's

LC Wedges

Fossil Watch

Hat from Target

Ugh. Let's promise each other we will never use iPhones to take pictures inside, ever again. We don't look good, friends. Anyway, Friday was day 1 of Evidence. It was actually supposed to be day 2 of evidence, but I was a day behind. So anyway. This top. I loved it. I mean, it's polka dots, a boatneck, and has a cute little button detail in the back, so, right? And then during dinner, I dropped a lemon on myself, as I do, and this top was a victim. The color bleached right out wherever the lemon touched. I was so sad. Because, let's be honest. I drop a lot of stuff, frequently on myself, and this loss of color has never happened to me before. So I was hoping I would at least get store credit if I took it back. Do you know what happened? They let me return it. God bless you, Anthropologie. God bless. Anyway, I hope you didn't get attached to that shirt, because it is gone now. I did. A little.

Oh, and I didn't wear this hat at any point during the day, except to ham it up for Brady. Which is how I spend about 90% of my day.

What I Wore for Contracts Day 1 (today):

Old Navy dress

Roxy flip flops

Marc Jacobs sunglasses

So today was Contracts Day 1: offer, acceptance, and consideration, also known as: FORMATION! I bet you are all just so jealous of how fun my life is. Today I took a huge risk and wore a dress to study. This is a huge risk because I am a huge slut. Just kidding. It's a huge risk because that room is FREEZING and I seriously risk frostbite if I am not wearing three layers of clothes. I DID supplement this with my black hoodie and also ankle socks. Stylin'. 

After the lecture, I persuaded Brady to let me go to the mall. Actually, I told Brady we were going to the mall. See, we had to go attempt, and successfully return the above aforementioned polka dot top of lemony sadness. So anyway, I didn't like this dress outfit for shopping. You guys have to be dressed appropriately for mall shopping, too, right? Kay, good. So, I changed clothes.

Now, what you are about to see, no one has seen before, or at least not in the last 11 or so years. Because 11 years might actually be how long it has been since I have worn shorts. This is for a very simple reason: one day, a long, long time ago, a girl I knew said I had fat legs. I did have fat legs! OH WAIT NO I DIDN'T AND WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THAT PSYCHO ANYWAY? I'll be succinct: this girl, and I am not going to name names, but she was a huge bully. She was mean. My lot in life cast me into close proximity with her for a number of years, and for a lot of days out of those years, this chick was super mean, not just about my fatty fat legs, but also about how dumb I was, how incapable I was, and how I would never achieve my dreams. But she was a child, you say! Kids! You can't take them seriously! That was a long time ago! YES IT WAS! And you know what, mean things stay with you. One effect of this was that I was unable to wear shorts for a long time. I only recently began starting to wear dresses and shorts, and even then, it is fraught with distress over hemlines and heels and OMG I CAN'T WEAR FLATS I AM GOING TO WEAR HEELS FOREVER AND EVER. It's super not fun.

But you know what? It's hot. I am tired of wearing pants because of my fat stumpy leg shame. And, I think this is a good time to break out some shorts (I own two pairs, both of which I bought in the past three weeks), because this week in therapy (yep) I am to write a therapeutic letter to Madame Super Bitch. If you haven't gone to therapy, or ever read a self-help article, a therapeutic letter is a letter you write to someone telling them how you feel and then you don't send it. You don't even show it to anyone, except maybe your therapist. And then you destroy it. And then you supposedly feel better. My letter is due Thursday. I'll let you know how I feel. Anyway, here is the proof that I not only wore shorts today, but I also looked a little bit hot. And hey, Madame Super Bitch? You can kiss my fat ass*.

What I Wore:

Rogan for Target blouse

Mossimo shorts

LC Wedges (I am definitely getting my money's worth out of these puppies)

* I know I will catch flak for this, but here's the thing? We all have our issues. I bet your issues are things that I would NEVER think would be an issue. Maybe you don't have any issues, and good for you! I have issues. It is called "My entire bottom half of my body, and sometimes parts of my top half." I won't hate on your issues if you don't hate on mine.

What I Wore for the Last (Finally!) Day of Real Property

What I love about this maxi dress:

I feel like a statue in it.

But I also have the mobility to climb on a piece of patio furniture and do a 'ta-da'!

You get a little peak at my back, which I think it pretty awesome. Thank, JM!

Until I get all prim and put on my cardi.

What I Wore:

BCBGeneration maxi dress

H&M cardi

Brady is the person responsible for that sad, sad marigold up there. He wanted me to tell you that as the responsible person, he has been taking care of those flowers like a good Flower Papa, but they just couldn't hack it in our 111 degrees. RIP, marigolds. I'll see you spicy little things next year. I'll probably try protecting you from the heat.

A Whole Bunch of What I Wores

Yesterday I promised you a post, and then do you know what I did? I went home to watch yesterday's Real Property 2 lecture on my couch, because Brady didn't feel well, and then I took a two hour nap and woke up not feeling well. Then I proceeded to lay about and do nothing productive, including watching yesterday's lecture. I absolutely hate being behind, but when you have stuff to do every day for two months in a row, there is bound to be at least a day that you just don't feel 100%, or even 50%, and you sleep all day.

Today I still didn't feel well, but I managed to get my butt out of bed at 10 am and shower and listen to a lecture before retiring to the couch. I upped my water intake and I am actually feeling better. I never believe people when they're like, "Oh, how do I look so beautiful all the time? I drink 8 glasses of water a day, dahling!" (They always say 'dahling,' just like that. And they wave their hand at you. Don't you want to smack those people?) But when it's 111 degrees outside, I think water might just have that special power Gwenyth Paltrow seems to swear by (plus eating 200 calories a day and being rich. I'm working on that last one. One thing at a time. Today it's water).

Anyway, I'm gonna catch you up on What I Wore now.

Saturday was a Con Law workshop on Substantive Due Process, Equal Protection, and Religion/Establishment Clause. After the workshop, I was on a mission to find a photo frame for my dad's Father's Day gift. There's a new store that opened up next to Padre's a few months ago called Camelback Consign and Design. I really wanted to check it out, so I headed over there after the workshop. I didn't find my photo frame, but I found some cool stuff. None of it came home with me, but I took pictures and I will do a post about it! Fun fun fun fun. After my browsing excursion, I headed over to the car wash for a car bath for my poor little Saturn who got filthy in a storm that hit downtown Phoenix a while a month a long time ago. I inadvertently went to Danny's Car Wash, which I try not to patronize after I sent my car there with the explicit directions to remove the big pile of bird poop on the hood, which they failed to do, and then refused to redo my car. I asked you to do one thing, Danny. Anyway, this time they got my little red coupe confused with a white F350 and held onto it for a while because they thought they were going to detail it. I sat in the sun waiting for my car until Brady went and inquired (I hate talking to people) and fixed the whole thing out. If I were going to get a free detail out of it, I would not have minded the extended wait time, but Brady saved me from my bad karma points. By the time we were in our clean, chemically-perfumed cars, I was sweltering and went to Target to get some shorts, since I own one pair of shorts to my name. I am not a shorts person. It's a lingering self-consciousness from a girl who called my legs fat when I was like 10. Our minds really hold onto things. Anyway, when I finally got home, I was ready for bed. At 6:30 pm. It all worked out, though, because Brady made me dinner, and the steak quesadillas made the compromise to my rep worth it. Here's what I wore Saturday:

What I Wore:

Shirt: Target (another super comfy shirt I love during the summer every day of my life)

Jeans: Levi's via Macy's (cuffed)

Sunday was Father's Day! First I got up and listened to the first two hours of a Con Law lecture, and then I headed over to my parents' for dinner. My mom and I were going to go get a pedicure (I know, Happy Father's Day, Daddy) but the salon was closing early. I took my talons home in sadness, but then I felt better because my mom made chicken casserole. It was a nice, quiet semi-special day with my family (my dad says his birthday is his special day, and that's how you know I am his daughter - our shared shunning of Hallmark holidays. That goes for Valentine's Day, too!). Here's what I wore:

What I Wore:

gauzy purple dress from Dubrovnik

Shoes: LC wedges

Necklace: Eiffel Tower necklace

This is the second time I have worn this dress, which is a shame because it is really perfect for Arizona summers. The only thing is I worry that it's see-through in the light, and I am not into adding layers when it's the temperature of hell out here.

Monday: I didn't take any pics. Sorry. Don't worry, it's an outfit I'm sure I will wear many more times over the next few weeks.

Tuesday we had a "mini-exam." That means we had to write two essays, without notes. Without notes, it's really more like a creative writing exercise, because I haven't memorized outlines yet. Most of my "rules" are based on things that seem like they could be right, and sound about halfway familiar. Brady wasn't feeling well, so we went back to my place to listen to the lecture and then the aforementioned two-hour nap happened. Here's what I wore for the one hour I was productive yesterday:

What I Wore:

Tee from Anthropologie

Cropped pants from J.Crew

Cardi from Target

I can't tell you how many times I have had to save this cardi from people who wanted to take it home with them. It really is a great little cardi. Some people hate cropped cardis, but I find them perfect for us short-waited people.

Okay, last day. I already explained how useless I was today, so I'll spare you the epexegesis.

What I Wore:

Nebraska hoodie (stolen from Brady)

Yoga pants from Old Navy

Reading Glasses from Coach

My main goal tonight is to get back into a normal schedule and get back on track tomorrow. That reminds me: gotta go chug a few more ounces of water, dahling!

P.S., Sorry about these photos. I don't know why I can't make them larger without them being all blurry. I will have my IT guy get on that.

What I Wore for Constitutional Law 1 and Padre's

Is there a name for the phenomenon of meeting your idol and being disappointed? Like you LOOOOVE Tom Hanks and then you meet him and it turns out he's totally okay with kicking two ten year old girls off a balcony to watch the Disneyland Aladdin parade? Was that oddly specific? Not that that happened to me or anything. Anyway, that phenomenon happened to me today. Today was supposed to be super exciting because our Con Law lectures are by Chimerinski, and I totally geeked out because I LOVE Chimerinski's Con Law books. But his lectures were about not nearly as exciting as you thought (and I bet you thought Federalism, Powers of the Judiciary, Executive, and Legislature, and Individual Rights were like an off-the-wall party). In fact I would liken it to that interminable time after the medical assistant leaves the exam room and you just hang out in a paper dress waiting for the doctor to walk her happy butt in the room. Good thing I wasn't wearing a paper dress. Here's what I did wear:

Hi-o, baby basil! I can't wait to eat you!

What I Wore:

Pink Old Navy Tee (seriously, LOVE THIS SHIRT YOU GUYS. I am planning on buying it in more colors)

Grey Lounge Pants from Old Navy

Black Flip Flops from Old Navy

I'm gonna be honest, you guys. All my comfy clothes are from Old Navy, or at least that is what I am learning from this experiment. But you know, it makes sense. Unless you are one of those ladies who needs to sleep in silk chemises (I am not) or lounge about in a robe that matches your lavendar plants (again, I am not), chances are, you are gonna be totally happy with the cheap stuff, so why spend money on clothes you don't care about or that you don't wear out to impress anyone? These lounge pants are gold, seriously. I almost didn't want to wear them to listen to the lecture because as soon as I put them on I just wanna go to sleep, and sleep isn't really helpful when you're trying to remember stuff.

After my lecture, I killed a Civ Pro essay and then booked it home to meet my parents for dinner. We went to Padre's, which is my dad's single favorite restaurant ever. We frequent that patio pretty frequently and have "our" server, who always remembers what we drink. Today she told us she's getting her psychology degree and she wants to go to law school and I yelled "DON'T DO IT!" Just kidding. No, I did, and then I told her that it's a lot of work but worth it. So, yeah, I lied. Kidding. I still don't know how I feel about law school. All I know is I want to be a prosecutor and they make you get your JD to do that. Am I better for it? We'll talk about this after the bar, because right now I just feel annoyed by the whole thing. Here's what I wore to tell some poor girl she shouldn't go to law school:

What I Wore for this very tiny iPhone pic:

Saint Tropez West dress via Macy's

LC wedges (yes, those ones!)

Who's that cute guy forced into posing with me? That's my dad! Happy Father's Day, Dad! Thanks for having me, and then for putting up with me for so long!

How are you saying thanks to your dad this weekend?

What I Wore for Conflict of Law

You guys can stop your clamoring. I know, I know, I missed yesterday and you are all distraught. I am sorry. I just, got busy, and I was so excited to workout, and, you know... Anyway, you didn't miss much. I know my first post probably made you think that my life is all fabulous yoga pants ad cotton shirts, but sometimes it's more simple. Black shorts, a teal burnout tee-shirt, and I even re-wore those AMAZING black Old Navy flip flops. You know, I'm starting to think I shouldn't share all this with you. I don't want you getting jealous of me. Actually, go ahead and be jealz.

Here's what I wore today (plus the leftover pizza Brady and I ate for dinner, thanks to BJ's brewery, which I do not recommend)!

What I Wore:

Picnic blouse from Modcloth

Twill Leggings from Lauren Conrad (I know)

Blue flats from Target

Eiffel tower c/o Mom, for Valentine's Day (she is adorable)

As you might have guessed, today was Conflicts of Laws. Exciting stuff. Get this? I also wrote an Agency and Partnership essay. I know, right? I almost peed my pants.

I really would not to soil these pants because I love them. They are so comfortable! One day after work at the prosecutor's office, I decided to visit the place where all the shoplifting defendants came from: Kohl's. And then I kind of bought some stuff, because it turns out there are actually some cute things at Kohl's, which I thought was shocking. All of our defendants stole t-shirts with slogans written in neon and hip hugger jeans or some such, whatever the kids are wearing today. In addition to these super comfy leggings, I also bought a teal trenchcoat (!!) and a pair of wedges I wear only all the time... all the time that I am not locked in our freezing cold study room, I mean. I would wear them, I guess, except that they are not conducive to sock-wearing. They have a super cute bow on the toe, though.

Tomorrow is the first day of Con Law I. Hold on to your Lauren Conrad panties!

What I Wore for Civ Pro 2 (and a little shindig)

Yay! My first What I Wore post! Here is what happened today: I got up early and worked out with my favorite lady, Jillian Michaels. We did our 6 Week 6 Pack workout. At first it sucked and I didn't want to do it, but by the time we were doing mat work, I got into it. I wore stretchy black capris from Old Navy and a grey sports bra from Target (they are the best, you guys, though it admittedly does not take much to contain this action, if you know what I mean. I have little boobs, if you didn't get it). No pics of that because I had not yet had my WIW epiphany. Also, I didn't wear a t-shirt, and I am a modest lady. After my workout, I got ready to go to school and put on this:

What I Wore:

Old Navy pink t-shirt (so cheap and comfy and bjkndnsocmds I love it)

NY&CO yoga pants (see above)

Old Navy black flippie floppies

Carrying: AZ Classroom Workook

Not pictured: black hoodie from Ann Taylor, which I have been wearing practically every day and couldn't stand to have on for another second.

I had a "Mini-MBE" today for my GTS workshop (that's Gateway to Success, or, Gym Tan Study, which more accurately reflects my summer - thanks, Mandi!) and then watched my Civ Pro 2 lecture. Joinder, Motions, Final Judgments... sooooooo fun! Just kidding. It sucks. But the lecturer was pretty funny. He sounds like Brak from Space Ghost. So if you're going to be studying a semester's worth of material in three hours, at least you can pretend an alien is teaching you. Aliens make everything better.

After my lecture, I did some Torts questions and then got ready to go PARTAAAAAAAAAAAY! Almost. Brady's BFF is moving from Boston to San Francisco, and his parents live here, so while he was in town, his parents threw him a moving party BBQ. Yummy! I didn't wear my shlubby clothes, though. What kind of BFF GF would I be?

 What I Wore:

Old Navy tank (I thought it was coral/orange, but it's looking red here? Did I wear red? I didn't want to.)

Old Navy cardi (literally dug out of the donate pile because the tank shows my bra straps and I wanted to cover that up)

Anthropologie Lido Light Skirt

Frye sandals

Kate Spade purse

After sitting around in "comfy" clothes, it feels so good to put on an actual outfit. Even if your outfit's shoes are 6 inch platforms and make three of your toes go numb. It's character-building.

I have a really good idea

You know how sometimes you ask me how my life is? How studying for the bar is going? And then I look off in the distance with a blank look and you think I have powered down or am contemplating running away right this instant? That second one might be true. But only because there isn't a whole lot to say about studying for the bar. I wake up, I shower, I go to school, I listen to a lecture on my computer, write an essay or so some multiple choice, and all this takes about six or seven hours and by then I am tired, so I go home, maybe lay down for a bit, work out, make dinner, do some more questions, and then zone out for a bit before I go to bed. That is pretty much it. Every day. So there isn't a whole lot to talk about there. The only thing that changes is what I do between step two and step three, which is get dressed.

Back in the day, before law school, I had a... job. Did you think I was going to say life? Nope, I didn't have one of those! My job preempted this "life" thing. But anyway, I had a job, and at my job, I wore clothes. Sometimes I wore dresses, or skirts, sometimes I even wore jeans. But I didn't wear yoga pants*. It was pretty casual, but I still had to go through the motions of "clothes" and "appropriate." It was okay. What I liked even better than wearing clothes to my job was wearing clothes to my internship. When I interned at the prosecutor's office, I was the only lady who wasn't support staff. I interacted with the public daily and made frequent courtroom appearances. This required that I step up my game on the whole dressing thing. I wore pencil skirts, A-line shifts, blouses, and suits like you wouldn't believe. And I looked super cute! I wish I had shared it with you guys, because I totally rock "business attire." But I didn't. And now I am not an intern anymore and I am sad and I am studying for the Bar all the time. Pout face. I don't wear business attire, because business attire is not conducive to sprawling on the floor crying ** or sitting cross-legged or with my feet up, or to the frigid temperatures in our study room. Instead, I wear t-shirts, hoodies, socks, glasses, and yoga pants***.  It's obviously not as glamorous. But you know what? That's okay! I'm still going to post it on here. Yep, I'm going to document my wardrobe during Bar study. It shall be a weird, anthropological study of the effects of brain melting practice exams on my sartorial choices. Maybe by July 15 I will be wearing jeggings! On my head! Who knows, we'll see. So, starting today, we're going to have a daily "What I Wore: Bar Study" feature. It's very NYT, but not as cool. Are you so excited? I am! First post will be tonight!


* Okay, I wore yoga pants sometimes, but only when I was the only one there, frequently on the weekends, when I was probably menstruating. Have I talked about periods yet on this blog? It's about time, then.


** Just kidding, this hasn't happened. Yet.


*** Yay!

Summer Resolutions

You guys got any Half Year Resolutions? I had never heard of Half Year Resolutions before, but I like them, because, let's face it, I abandoned my New Year's Resolutions, like, 4 months ago. Half Year Resolutions are like a fresh start, and we can all use those every now and then, right? Here are mine:

1. Get back into daily workouts. Cardio, gym, Jillian Michaels, or running up and down the stairs. I feel like crap when I don't work out and that is not helpful for anyone. Especially my butt.

This is not me. I am blonde, OBVIOUSLY.

2. Drink more water. Booze only on weekends. This was Brady's idea, but I am joining his bandwagon, because I think it will help me feel better. So I've heard. Before anyone says anything (DAD), it's not as if I tie one on Monday through Thursday. Yes, I will have a couple beers or glasses of wine. MAYBE a G&T. But I certainly do not wake up in the bathtub, or even with a headache. Still, I figure it can't hurt to be as clear-headed as possible, and that probably means skipping the spirits during the week. Weekends, however. Let's be realistic, you know?

Yay, responsibility!

3. One night a week, I will not read the internet or watch TV. I will either study more or read something or embroider. As much as I love killing brain cells reading blogs, but the nights when I sit on my couch and read are, like SO NICE. I just don't even. I know it's so nice to have all this info at our fingertips, etc., but sometimes it's equally nice to turn off ALL THAT INFORMATION and just chill out.

Please do not be law books OMG.

4. Seven days out of the week, I will study for the bar in some way. But also, one day out of the week, I will do something not related to the bar at all. I will hang out by the pool, I will hang out with my ponies, I will clean, I will paint, I will spend time NOT studying for the bar. I also will not spend that time sleeping or watching television. PROMISE ME YOU WILL MAKE ME DO THIS. This is not going to be easy for me.

No sleeping, I know, but isn't this the cutest?!

What about you? Are you going to try some Half Year Resolutions? I don't think the "half year" is technically until, like, July 1, but now you have plenty of time to plan!

Times I Tried Something New and Liked It

1.      Fantasy and Sci-Fi – In undergrad, I ate, slept, and breathed British, Irish, and American Lit. I wrote dissertation after dissertation on Catcher In the Rye, Flannery O’Connor, James Joyce, and Thomas Hardy. If you tried to throw your Jules Vern or Frank Herbert in my face, I would tell you to shove your broomstick in your butt. Then I watched “Lord of the Rings,” and at that point my life changed. It turns out the fantasy genre is not all glitter fairies and woodland nymphs! Fantasy has wars and politics and hot hot hot Orlando Bloom on a horse! I converted to fantasy. But I didn’t stop then – then I watched Battlestar Galactica and then I felt dumb for hating sci-fi so hard. I always assumed these niche genres neglected character development in favor of playing god with physics or robots. I believed the plot would bend to the whims of alternate science theories and pseudo-physics and the “writer” would try to make up for it with some “thousands and thousands of light years” nonsense. Battlestar Galactica proved otherwise and how. Battlestar develops characters; they have their good and their bad, and people you love do things you hate and don’t agree with. When President Roslin makes tough calls, you think she’s doing the wrong thing, but then you don’t know, maybe it’s right, but at the same time it is so WRONG! About three episodes from the end, I started having that depressed knot in my stomach you get when a novel is almost over and you don't want to be done reading it. And ohmygosh that show is amazing and I can’t wait to watch the whole series all over again.

2.       Horror Movies – I saw The Ring when it first came out and I could not watch another scary movie, or have a television in the same room where I slept, for a long time. Then I got coerced into watching Paranormal Activity and I had so much fun being scared, we went and saw the second one at the midnight show. So fun! But sometimes I still jump into my bed from 10 feet away because I’m afraid there’s a demon under there who’s gonna possess my toes.

3.       Zombies – They are super gross, but like the stereotypes of fantasy and sci fi that turned out not to be true, zombies aren’t all gore and braaaaaaaaaaainnnnnnsssss. They’re people struggling to maintain society in the face of an unknown and surprisingly strong enemy. They’re families watching each other die and either standing by someone who is no longer the person you love and might be trying to eat you, or shooting them between the eyes. My favorite zombie things are World War Z, Fido, The Walking Dead (comics AND the TV show), and Zombieland.

1.       Eating Things With Weird Names – Pork Belly. Didn’t want to try it, tried it, and now I want to eat it every day, even though it has the word “belly” in it.

(Don't) Wish it (were) Sunday

I feel like I should update this thing, but I'm feeling too lazy to write a real blog post. So here's a list of things!

Today I lost my first trial. I feel like a real lawyer now.

Almost Attorney at Law! That's an official title.

I tend to buy stuff to make salads, and then I don't make them. When I clean out the fridge, I get so mad at myself, and I throw that brown lettuce in the garbage like I mean it.

Speaking of food, I spend this weekend cooking, as well as cleaning and doing laundry. I have no interest in doing this full time. When I got to work today, I was so happy to be in that courtroom and not chopping carrots, even if I didn't win my case. Don't get me wrong, I love cooking, and I love cooking for others, but I can also get tired of it. Quickly.

Cooking, cleaning, and laundry among other things, like mirror painting! I knew I wanted to hang this is my living room, but the black felt too heavy.

So it's pink now! Watermelon Pink, but I call it Malibu Dream House Pink, and I also tell you not to look too closely. It needs some touch ups.

I was one of those girls you (maybe) hated in high school. I had perfect skin. Don't worry, I was a total inept nerd in other ways. But anyway. My skin broke out really bad right before my undergrad graduation ceremony, and then it cleared up in 3 days. A couple of months ago, it broke out again. It's always on my chin! I cried a couple of times, then I went to my dermatologist and rethought my skin care. I stopped buying new products all the time and now I have a regiment I really like. I also stopped wearing mineral make up and went back to old fashioned liquid foundation, and I love it.

I hate being complimented. When people tell me my skin looks good or whatever, I worry they're telling me that because they think my skin looks awful and they feel sorry for me.

Mulder, looking off in the distance, contemplating his crazy Mom.

For a long, long time, like up until extremely recently (last week. just kidding, but almost) I could not for the life of me accept a compliment. If you say "I like your hair," you're going to regret it, because I will tell you that my hair sucks and I spend a small fortune on hair products, or I will tell you that you're wrong and my hair is ugly and the worst hair ever, and then we will feel awkward. Not fun. Finally I learned to smile and look pleased and say "thank you!" But I feel forced if I say "I like your hair too!" I don't want you to think that I'm just saying that. I am secretly trying to race you in your compliment, so I can make sure you think I like you and maybe I can avoid receiving one. It's a sickness. I'm sorry.

 You can tell me you like my new nightstand, though. I'll say "thank you!" and then we can talk about mid-century danish teak furniture. Or I can talk and you can nod politely, as you do with an obviously crazy person.

Now that classes are totally completely forever over (except for the bar, whoops!) my main goal (after getting a solid tan before moving into the library full time) is to update this blog much more regularly. Can you stand the wait? Well, good news, it's already started! See you soon!

Feelin' the Love

I started this post with picking a bunch of pictures to show you. Why these pics? Well, they're all right-side up, are not embarrassing, and they're things I love. Obviously, I love my family and my horses and my boyfriend/best friend and I am grateful for all the blessings in my life, but these are things I don't necessarily express my appreciation for on a regular basis, so I am doing it now.

First is my favorite thing to make and eat: Pasta with Lemon and Olive Oil. I got the recipe from SmittenKitchen. Brady and I eat it at least once a week. It's perfection, and it makes so much that I have leftovers until I'm ready to make it again. I make it with whole wheat linguine so I don't feel bad shoveling a bunch of carbs in my mouth.I make it with basil, but you can also use arugula, which I would do if I could find arugula. Anyway. It's a good thing.

Ahhhhh. Diet Coke. I've strayed and been on a Diet Cherry Dr Pepper kick for a while, but there is still nothing like a Diet Coke in the afternoon. This particular DC is on my desk at work in front of a case file. I am not 100% sure, but it may be the file I'm working on for my next trial. It's also in front of the Arizona Criminal and Traffic Code. It's all the statutes you would ever need, and I love them. I also love trials, and I love this desk. There is nothing special about this desk except that it's where I sit when I review files and get ready for trial, which is part of the Prosecution Clinic through school. I get to spend two days a week doing something that is so important to me. It's my dream job and it's why I went to law school in the first place. I am a lowly intern, but I still get to meet with defendants, make plea offers, talk to witnesses, and put on an entire trial. It's just a taste of the bigger picture, but it's a picture I hope I get to be a part of in October/November. I love the municipality I am in because of the way the City Prosecutor has set up the process and flow and the attitude toward defendants. It's very focused on solving problems, which I think is so great. I am also grateful for the people I work with. They are all incredibly helpful and eager to help me try out new things, and they are very supportive and I feel like they really want me to succeed. I wish I could stay there forever! Wow, one picture with a whole bunch of things I love. That's efficiency.

WHO IS THIS?! I LOVE HIM! He is my favorite thing in my house at any given time, which, DUH. But as much as I love him, I really love his personality - his little quirks that make me laugh at least twice a day. Lately he's been working hard on arranging pillows and blankets for the best couch experience and it's hilarious. On this day, we were watching talk shows all morning and he sat right there, right next to me, the whole time. Love him.

My kitchen! I love this place! It's very bland and apartmentish, but it's roomy and easy to work in. The only thing I don't love is that oven and stove, which is incredibly bipolar, especially for an appliance, you know? But I love being in my kitchen and making that Lemon and Olive Oil pasta at the top. I also have tons of cupboards so I can keep stuff off the counter. The print at the top is a reproduction vintage travel poster for Ireland, my favorite country, and that taller vase up there with it has delicate diamond-shaped cut outs and it's a pretty purple color. I hate the idea of pot shelves, because it's such wasted space, but I focused on creating a little vignette of things that make me happy, instead of just throwing a bunch of crap up there. I think it worked out pretty well.

What I don't love about my kitchen is my sink. The sink side is not even and water puddles up, so every time I use it, I have to use my brush to shove the water into the drain. The disposal side is scary and I worry my disposal is going to rattle the counter off the wall. What I do love is my little sink alcove. Dishes are among my least favorite chore, so I wanted this place to make me smile. That's why my Mr. and Lady Rabbit prints hang out here in their fancy looking frames. I also use soap that smells good and is not stocked full of chemicals that give me migraines. 

This is not an exhaustive list, but I just wanted to share a few of the pics that made enough of an impression on me that I had to take a pic. 

Oh, and you'll also notice that all of the pics here were taken with Instagram, which I also love!

What little things do you love?

Oh, this thing.

I bet you are one of those people who gets up just dancing every morning. Little birds sing to you while you shower, and mice mend your buttons for you. I know! You are amazing. And you never neglect your blog. Ever! You always have something funny to say, and you always include pictures. You can totally judge me for ignoring my blogger duties. I fail at marketing myself! I am destined to live my life unknown!

A lot has happened since that last post. After attending the memorial service, there was a wedding, and then some trials, and then some other stuff, and then Barrister's Ball. I made it through all of those things, even though sometimes they sucked. WINNING. Sometimes it's nice to acknowledge your accomplishments, even if other people don't think they're a big deal. Charlie Sheen taught me that. Is it too late to talk about Charlie Sheen? My blog is so behind Charlie Sheen jokes are still cool.

I promise I haven't forgotten this thing. I have thought about things I would like to write, and I even started writing something, but then I felt so overwhelmed that I gave up. Life's like that this semester. Ending law school does funny stuff to your brain. It's not like I have a ton of stuff to do. I don't have cases to read. I don't even have homework. But even just going to class is, like, excruciating. One week, I went to one of my classes on Tuesday, and then I went to a different class on Thursday, but there was NO WAY I was able to go to both classes both days. That's right - my senioritis is such that I cannot even go to more than one class on one day. My life is so hard.

But okay, so I promise, right here, to write something once a week. No excuses. Even if I have nothing to say, I will find something to say, and then I will say it. It's weird because I feel like I'm not even talking to anyone on this thing. I don't know if anyone is paying attention or reading. Maybe no one is even checking this. But the longer I go without writing something, the more guilt I feel over letting down people who probably do not care at all about new content. Maybe I feel like I'm letting myself down, and I'm projecting. But I am not a psych major. I'm just a 3L who can barely get her butt to school these days. If it weren't for ABA attendance policies, I would still be on my couch in my yoga pants. It's not pretty, guys.

You know what is pretty?

Don't be jealz I have a handsome boyfriend plus sweet jewels (from the Icing). And you can't see it here, but my hair? It was rocking. And I did it in about 10 minutes in my bathroom. If you have ever chopped your hair off and had to painstakingly regrow it, you know my joy at being able to style my hair in something other than "down."