Last Time I Mention It (Promise) (For Now)

Bar exam is next Tuesday and Wednesday. 

On Sunday, I will make the 4.5 hour drive to Albany.  Joe's hometown is on the way, so he's going to drive me the first 3 hours so that it's not wasted time, and then he'll hang with his friends and family until I pick him up on Wednesday after it's all over.  Once there, I'm going to make a dry run to the convention center so I can see where it is, assess the parking situation, and time the drive from my hotel. 

After that, I plan to hang a do not disturb sign on the door and sleep, study, and freak out as needed until Tuesday morning.  For the record, I do think that the run of 60 degree sunny weather we've had this week and the maddening fact that the Oscars are this weekend are hostile acts/a conspiracy against me.  Obviously.  Cruel is what it is. 

Since I think this weekend is going to be pure craziness given that I still have to study, but also have to pack, plan, and get myself to a strange city, I went ahead and made a To Pack list and a To Do list yesterday while I was still relatively lucid.

Yes, I do put "shave legs" on my To Do lists.  How else do you remember?

After the bar exam is over, I am going to spend the the next free day doing the following (in no particular order): mani/pedi, go see a movie with Joe, drink a margarita the size of my head, and go to the public library and select books for reading for pleasure.  Oh my gosh, it all sounds tremendous. 

I will also go shopping for a little gift for my newest cousin, baby Noah, who arrived just a couple weeks ago.  It's not his fault that he arrived while I was seriously preoccupied.  Or that he's a fifth child and a fourth boy.  Kid deserves something new.  I also owe his mama a long overdue phone call.  Hell, I owe everyone in my life a long overdue phone call.  How are all of you?  Still well, I hope.  I miss you terribly.

I will not be posting next week.  I will be back after next week much happier, much calmer, and totally not missing this view:

I can hardly wait.

Don't Tell Him I Said That

Just a few things we've enjoyed in the last few weeks.  Joe will be very happy when all this is over and he is relieved of cooking duties.  I might not allow it.  I think he might just be better than me.  Even if everything else goes to shit, our marriage might go 50 years based on his guacamole alone. 

Chickpea Stew (he used boneless chicken breast rather than thighs)

Pizza with caramelized onion, Gorgonzola, and walnuts (holy goodness, this was delicious)

Roman-style chicken (served it over whole wheat pasta)

Chicken & Vegetable Soup (almost made me wish I was sick, just so I could eat this for comfort)

Chicken Parmesan Rollatini (healthy chicken parm, genius and delicious)

Not Helpful

You see those tabs on the side?  Soon after this photo was taken, she bit those off.

I Can't Quit You

After my law school graduation, my family and I headed back to the law school building so I could collect my "official" diploma and also so I could show my family where I'd spent the last three years of my life.  There was a moment in the middle of all the hustle and bustle when my mom took my arm and encouraged me to soak it all in.  This was the last time I would be here.  I thanked her for the effort but had to remind her that I would be back in this building in, um, like, 4 days to start Pennsylvania bar prep classes. 

That kept me in the building for about 2 more months.  Then I thought I was done.  But a mere 4 weeks later I was back, working in the building full-time. 

And now I'm back in the law school library for hours at a time, in jeans and a sweater, with my tote bag, grabbing a latte at the coffee bar, and rolling my eyes at the people who just will not shut up.  It's a library, people.  That means we don't answer our phones.  Thanks.  It's just like old times!

Not done yet, law school building.  Not through with you yet.

I will say, though, that one of the perks of working for your law school is that when you ask for almost two weeks off to prepare for and take a bar exam, they're all of course you're gonna need time off.  Go study, buddy.  Sort of makes me think I'm in the right place at the right time after all despite the drama of the last year.  This place has my back.

Oh, law school.  When all this over and we finally part ways, I've got a sloppy tongue kiss with your name on it. 

Next

Last week we got a letter under the door reminding us that next month we have to give our 90 day notice if we intend to move out.  Our lease is up in June.  I am very, very excited about this.  We only renewed last June because I thought I had a job just 3 miles away.  When that fell through shortly thereafter, I felt a bit trapped.  Suddenly we were committed to living here for another year but without knowing if I'd be able to find a job here.  I went from loving this apartment to hating that I was stuck here.  I'm ready to move on and to have it be my choice. 

I have lived in this apartment complex for 4 years.  Two years with a roomie, almost one year by myself, and one year with Joe.  Time to go.  Knowing that the end is near, I have been dreaming about our next place.  My dreams are pretty small. 

I would love to have two bedrooms and two bathrooms.  I would settle for a den or bonus room of some sort and just an extra half-bath.  I am dying for a proper pantry, even a small one.  Not having to give up valuable cabinet space or stack things on top of the fridge sounds like heaven.  I would also very much like to have more than one drawer.  Our kitchen has one drawer.  I do not know how I have survived.  I would like at least three drawers, please. 

A washer/dryer.  Such luxury.  I am so over hording quarters.  Not having neighbors upstairs who complain every time we fire up the barbecue.  A little bit of yard space.  A garage or covered parking.  That seems like it may be pushing it. 

And if all of this could be in New York state, that would be really, really nice.

It's very unlike me to wish for summer because it's a miserable season I prefer to avoid at all costs, but if May could bring finding out I passed the NY bar exam, and if June could mean finally making the move to New York, and if somewhere in there a job in New York comes my way, then I promise not to complain about the humidity.  Deal?

Bitch Ruins Everything

....and then she ate it.

....and now they're up there.

Happy Love Day

This has been making the rounds, I know, but I think it's especially apropos today. 

To me, it's about so much more than the obvious.  It is everything that is remarkable, powerful, and extraordinary about love. 

Love of a parent for a child. 

The bursting love that this daughter must have for her mama right now. 

Love of fellow human beings. 

Love that triumphs over politics and fear and misunderstanding and misperception. 

Love just love.

More, please.

Almost

The bar exam is two weeks from tomorrow.  There is light at the end of this ever-constricting tunnel.  I'm in the home stretch, which consists of desperately trying to memorize hundreds of pages of material, feeling like you'll never be able to memorize hundreds of pages of material, and panic over your inability to memorize hundreds of pages of material, followed by tears, and then, eventually, acceptance. 

I will say that I am actually much calmer this time around.  Partly because I've done this successfully before and I know that even if you can't quite memorize hundreds of pages of material, you can still be just fine.  And partly because I remember that euphoric feeling that comes after a bar exam is over and how totally worth it that is.  Plus, this time, that glorious feeling can't be stopped violently in its tracks three days into it upon news that my job offer has been rescinded.  Via e-mail.  Sent on a Saturday night.  At 10 pm.  From someone's phone.  Oh, did I not mention that part?  One day it won't still sting.  I hope. 

One of the fun things about being in the middle of something that is consuming your life is the growing To Do list of things you are going to attend to once that thing is over.  On that list right now:

1. Deep clean this entire apartment.
2. Do my taxes.
3. Go see a movie.
4. Go get frozen yogurt with Joey.
5. Watch every single program saved on the DVR back to back to back to back.
6. Bake something, everything.
7. Go to the library, check out 17 books, and read for pleasure.
8. Start looking for jobs in New York (!!)
9. Go for a long walk.
10. Resume wedding planning.
11. Mani/pedi
12. SLEEP.

Cannot wait.

Put Them on The List

I have been obsessed with these Jonathan Adler letter pillows since I first spied them on an episode of Giuliana & Bill.  I loved that they had a "G," "B," and "R" around their living room as a fun play on their monogram. 

Here's hoping one day I think paying $110 for a single pillow is totally reasonable. 

If It Ain't One Thing, It's Another

I have always known my heart rate was too fast.  Whenever I hooked myself up to one of those drug store blood pressure machines, it always told me my heart was beating too fast.  I got one of those watch heart monitors for workouts years ago, and it was not uncommon for my resting heart rate to be over 100.  Seventy-two is normal.  It shoots up to 180 when I'm on the elliptical like it's nothing.  So I knew something was up, but I never got it checked out.  Whenever I had physicals, they always told me my heart rate was normal on that day, and I never raised the alarm. 

Starting some time last Fall though, I began to get nervous.  I was having pretty regular palpitations.  Sometimes it felt like my heart was racing for no reason.  Or that it was skipping a beat, even when I was being still.  I chalked it up to all the travel.  The stress of the last year.  The fact that I'd gained some weight.  But I was scared enough to talk to my parents and make an appointment with my dad's cardiologist while I was with them in Dallas for Thanksgiving. 

They hooked me up to all the monitors and stuck those electrodes everywhere.  Put me on the treadmill.  Do you know you can't wear a sports bra while you're doing that?  No one wins if my heart is fine but I take my own eye out, is all I'm saying.  The technician said my heart was healthy.  Everything looked fine.  No arrhythmia, a steady beat.  Except that my heart rate was very fast.

The doctor came in after looking everything over and started asking questions.  He took my resting heart rate and then he asked me to stand up.  He took my heart rate again.  Just standing up made it spike like crazy.  Then he diagnosed me with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS). 

Basically, it means that when you change position, like going from sitting to standing, you experience an abnormally large increase in heart rate.  My body, apparently, struggles to maintain homeostasis while I try to navigate myself through the day.  For some people, it's very debilitating.  They can't do anything without becoming dizzy or without their heart rate increasing so much that they can barely function.  Luckily, I've never been anywhere near that bad, and have no reason to expect to be. 

The doctor told me it's actually more of a kidney problem than a heart problem.  My kidneys don't hold on to potassium and salt and all those good things your body needs like they should.  My kidneys were very dehydrated as a result.  When one organ isn't working like it should, the others, especially the heart, have to work harder to keep everything in balance, and it has to work even harder to keep everything going where it's supposed to when I get up, stand up, and whatnot.  Water doesn't help.  I used to guzzle water, but would just feel bloated and sluggish.  Water doesn't replenish salt and potassium; it just makes you go to the bathroom.  And every time I did, my kidneys gave up more stuff they needed and I wasn't putting enough back.  So I need to be drinking Gatorade or Propel or something that will put back some of that good stuff, and not just flush it out.

There are about 4 different medications I was told I could try, but I wasn't put on any of them, which I very much appreciate.  We think I can treat it by hydrating properly and by being aware that stress and caffeine (motherfucker) make it worse.  My heart is fine, my kidneys are fine - no permanent damage done.  Just something to be aware of. 

I'm relieved that I know what's wrong and that I can fix it without anything major or scary.  I was really scared for a bit there.

So now here's the problem. 

Don't even get me started on my plastic bottle guilt.

Gatorade.  I've been drinking 2-3 bottles a day.  Gatorade has a shit ton of calories in it, so I buy the low calorie kind.  I swap calories for sucralose.  I know nothing definitive has been proven, but pumping your body with that much artificial sweetener can't be good.  It scares me.  I'm going to have to be drinking this stuff for the rest of my life most likely.  I really want to find a low calorie, all-natural option that has a similar potassium and sodium content.  And if it doesn't cost $5/bottle, that would be even better.

Any ideas?  So far, the only one that seems like it might do is SoBe Lean Machine Lifewater.  It's 0 calories and sweetened with stevia and erythritol, which are both natural.  It's also like $20 for a 12 pack.  Yikes.  Are there really no low-calorie all-natural fitness drinks that are affordable?  That can't be right.  Your help, please.

Lastly, if you think something is wrong, trust your instincts and don't be stupid like me.  Go get it checked out.  Go.  Now, preferably.  I'll hold your hand.

Odds & Ends

I am out of ideas for my hair.  I think it's time for a major change, but when you're dealing with thick and curly, it's kind of hard to do too much.  Short would mean some major 13-year-old Jewish boy 'fro action and straightening every morning is just way too time consuming.  I go to a salon that specializes in curly hair, but hair cuts don't seem to make much difference, no matter how much I tell them to tame it.  Case in point:

Pre-hair cut:

A few weeks post hair cut:

I am smizing so hard, you guys.

Do you see the difference?  I pay $75 for subtlety apparently.  Also, do you see how my eyebrows are completely asymmetrical?  I don't know what to do about that either.  Sometimes when I'm sitting across the table from Joe at dinner, I think he's staring into my eyes and that he's about to say something profound, something that will touch me deep inside my soul, and then he says, "they're still uneven," and then I throw a forkful of food at him and he pays for dinner.

Speaking of Joe, he and Lily will be home tomorrow.  I'm ready.  I enjoyed the quiet and got a ton of work done last week, but I miss my family.  Even if Lily coming back means having regular heart attacks.  Do you have any idea what it's like to go to the bathroom, do your business, stand up, wash your hands, and not notice this until you're on your way out the door?

Pervert.

Luckily, she's also a lot of fun. 

Hide and go seek.  She's it. 

And lastly, LET'S GO G!  I have a very happy fiance coming home tomorrow. 

(The Saints are still my first love, Dad, don't worry.)





They Prey on the Weak

Girl Scouts came to the door.  With cookies.  A hostile act.  I bought three boxes.

*************An Hour Later*************

I only eat one cookie.  I decide to put the rest in the freezer to keep them fresh until Joe comes home next week and to keep myself from eating all the cookies.

**************An Hour Later*************

I discover Girl Scout cookies are delicious frozen.

Damn you, Girl Scouts!

A Public Service Message

There's this radio commercial that's been playing constantly lately.  It advises guys of the availability of the "perfect" Valentine's Day gift.  The gift that every woman wants.  She will love you if you buy this.  You'll probably get some if you buy it.  It's a rose.  Dipped in 24 karat gold. 

I don't make a habit of making myself the spokesperson for all women because it's a very presumptuous thing to do, but in this rare case I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say, hi, we don't want that.  We have never wanted that.  Do not buy that.  Ever. 

Think it through, boys.  What the hell would we do with that?  Put it in a vase?  Put it on display?  You just gave us a 24 karat dust collector. 

This strikes me as such a man thing to come up with (respectfully).  She wants flowers.  She wants jewelry.  Is there some way to make that simpler?  And could I preferably get it at one store?  Is there some way I could appear romantic and thoughtful while in reality putting no thought into this whatsoever?  A rose dipped in 24 karat gold is the obvious solution.

I think the intention is that your man buys you one every year until you have a 24 karat gold rose bouquet.  That you have to keep.  Forever.  Ladies, to get a full bouquet will take 12 years.  It's like you broke a mirror so now you get 12 years of gold roses.

Fresh flowers.  Breakfast in bed.  Maybe jewelry if you know what your girl likes.  They're classics for a reason.  Or hell, let's just eat dinner with the TV off.  And then, if you really want to kick it up a notch, try kissing us for more than 30 seconds without groping anything.  Now that's romance.  It really can be that easy.

(While we're on the topic, a quick note:  there is not a single woman on the planet who has thought to herself MY GOD YES! as a result of an unsolicited boob grab.  Not a single one.  Okay, I lied.  There are maybe two.  But none of the rest of us are friends with them.  And they're both taken.  (No. You didn't get one.))

Also?  We don't want stuffed animals either.  We're adults.  Thank you.