Posted by: irrational basis | July 8, 2009

Struggling

Words cannot express how much I hate law right now and how much I regret spending all that money on law school and then taking on a second job just to stay in the legal field.  Not only did I gain $100,000+ in debt, but I also contracted ADD (my classmates totally infected me) and now I cannot accomplish anything.  I have an AOB for one more case before I’m done with this appellate work for the year (OMG, my relief is palpable) and I simply cannot make myself sit down to do it.

Nor have I finished those stupid wedding invitations I’ve been “working on” since February.

What is wrong with me?!?!?!

Posted by: irrational basis | June 26, 2009

Almost Complete

Gorgeous wedding dress – check

Shoes! – check

Veil – check

Hair accessories – check

Petticoat – check

Necklace – check

** All that’s left are earrings and undergarments!

Posted by: irrational basis | June 24, 2009

Ya gotta love the city….

7:30AM, I’m hustling to work, already late, breakfast in one hand, coffee in the other, still trying to wake up.  Homeless (?) guy approaches me as I’m standing at a corner, waiting to cross the street.  “Hey, got any change?”  He asks me crassly, holding out a grubby paper cup.  I half-smile and shake my head, “Sorry, not today,” and look back up at the light.  “Well, F*%# you!”  I can feel him standing behind me, flicking his chin up as he says the words.  I ignore him, other people have joined me now and are ignoring him too.  “Well, ya’ll just stand there, bunch of a*& holes… ya know, I ain’t no g*damn n&gg#% slave…”  He keeps grumbling.

I’m thinking – Really? at 7:30 in the morning?  This is what I have to listen to?

I’ve lost so much of my compassion for people since living in the bay area.  At least, that’s what I blame it on.  I’m sure there are other factors involved but I don’t feel like thinking about that right now…   I don’t feel like the city encourages people to be nice.  My sexy man and I have discussed this before.  His theory is that people don’t feel compelled to be nice because chances are they will never see each other again; people in the city don’t need each other.  In the financial district, it seems like people are in survival mode all the time.  When I would take the MUNI train to and from work, if you weren’t one of those pushing and shoving and cursing your way onto the car, you would probably be left standing on the platform until after 7pm.  Folks on BART are a bit more civilized – conforming nicely into even lines – but I find myself seething when I’ve been standing politely in line only to be cut-off upon entrance by someone who has roughly thrust themselves in front of me.  Same thing for the shuttle that takes me home from BART.  A few of us stand off to the side, allowing disembarking passengers an open exit, only to have several others walk up and stand right in front of the door, then rudely step ahead.  Whatever happened to waiting your turn? Whatever happened to saying thank you to the person who lets you go ahead of them? Whatever happened to apologizing when you accidently bump into someone?    There are so many experiences I’ve had in the city recently where common courtesy has gone completely out the window.

 

My dad was very much affected by his environment and I think I’ve inherited that from him.  Every day that I remain in the Bay Area, I feel like I’m losing more and more of myself – of the old me; the person who used to be kind and caring and sympathetic and passionate.  I feel like the dirt and grime – literal and symbolic – of the city life is taking its toll.  There are lots of great things about living here, sure, but lately, I’ve found myself counting the days til we leave (approx. 200 left).

Posted by: irrational basis | June 18, 2009

“Making the Cut” Update

The only reason I’m posting this is because I have searched the internet to find out if people are REALLY getting results from this whole Jillian Michaels craze.  I’m just looking for NORMAL people who are seeing changes in their body.  AND, I’ve been hard-pressed to find many blogs of people who 1) actually completed any of her programs and 2) actually got worthwhile results.  So, friends of the internet, I’m here to say that

I am definitely getting stronger and seeing changes in my muscles by following her workouts.

Evidenced by the fact that, today, for the first time in who knows how many years, I did a totally 100% unassisted pull-up.  And not just one, but FOUR.  I think the last time I was able to do nearly that many I was about 90lbs, in the fourth grade, and managed to complete 7 full pull-ups during a P.E. test.  This is way cooler than that. Just a month and a half ago, I was using the assisted pull-up machine, and needing help of approx. half my body weight to allow me to do multiple pull-ups.

For those who care, I am on day 20 of alternating between the “30 Day Shred” DVD (just doing one workout each time, but varying which level I choose) & the workouts from JM’s “Making The Cut” book – no rest days.  I haven’t changed my eating habits at all during this time.  In fact, yesterday, I downed 2/3 of a pint of Ben & Jerry’s strawberry cheesecake ice cream.  (A girl can have her moments.)  But -I think I am beginning to tell a difference in the way I look and definitely in the way I feel.

I no longer cringe at doing push-ups (or pull-ups!! woohoo!!), I LOVE plyometrics!, and lunges still kick my butt, but I look forward to them.  I haven’t weighed myself or taken any measurements yet.  Not sure if I’ll do it at day 30 or day 40, but today’s victory gives me hope that i’ll SEE a real difference soon and that, one of these days, I’ll be able to bust out 10 pull-ups like nobody’s business.

Posted by: irrational basis | June 14, 2009

Math & Invitations

For the last 5 months, I’ve been developing the design for our wedding invitations and recently began putting them together.  The biggest ordeal is that I didn’t buy enough paper to make all the invitations look the same.  Also, it was a really stupid idea to try and put together 120 invitations, made basically “from scratch,” on my own.   120 invitations? YES – that’s what I was working towards.  We have about 80almost completed.  I was at Michaels *again* yesterday, hoping they would have more of my paper in stock.  They didn’t.  As I’m standing in line to buy something else, feeling defeated, it dawns on me for the first time – we’re INVITING 120 people…  how many invitations do we REALLY need, assuming that each party is usually two people????  Um, only a little more than 60.  I don’t feel TOO stupid because no one else has brought this to my attention before, but I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner.  I would like to say, “this is why I’m a lawyer and not a math teacher,” but, somehow, explaining away my dumbness by referring to my legal training doesn’t seem to make it better   :)

Posted by: irrational basis | June 13, 2009

When a cold is not just a cold

My sexy man hasn’t been feeling 100% these days.  He’s had a bit of a head cold – stuffy nose, sinus pressure, and, overall, feels pretty crappy.  When he gets sick, it shows.  He just looks miserable and, if he was dealing with a normal girlfriend, would evoke genuine empathy and nurturing from her.  But, he’s dealing with me.

This isn’t the first time in our three years together that he’s been sick.  There have been bouts with the flu, worse head colds, etc.  The usual stuff.  Every time, his vulnerability during the illness has aroused feelings of ANGER in me.  Feelings that I’ve never before really been able to understand… until this morning when I finally put two and two together.

He was lounging on the couch drinking tea and looking sadly pathetic – his eyes watery, his nose red, his breaths coming in long labored sighs.  I was tossing some ingredients into the crockpot and feeling myself begin to boil inside.  My mind starts churning – “why do I feel angry at him? It’s not his fault he’s sick… why can’t be just be healthier? what is wrong with me??”  I move onto stuffing our goodwill donations into plastic bags and with each forceful movement, my annoyance continues to build.  Finally, he says, “You know, being angry at me for being sick won’t make me get any better.”  Of course, that comment just further fed the flames.  Not only did he realize I was angry, but he even realized why…

I didn’t respond to his statement, but my thoughts continued to jumble together as I tried to come to some sort of rational conclusion as to why him being sick made me so mad.  The only thing that kept fumbling to the front of the line was related to my dad.

When my dad would get a little cold, he would become totally incapacitated – thank God he rarely got sick!   I remember him lying on the couch, moaning, “I think I’m gonna die… I think I’m dying…”  Mostly in jest, but perhaps he felt so miserable, he actually believed himself a little bit,  who knows.  All I know is that when he wasn’t feeling well, it seemed the end of the world.  Which is a little bit similar to how my sexy man appears (and, probably the majority of people – myself included) in his worst moments.  By the time my family finally got confirmation that my dad’s cancer had returned, my dad had been in pain for so long, he seemed to take the diagnosis as a relief.  My dad had been suffering for months by that point and had very little strength.  The doctors explained that the tumor was situated so that it was impossible to do surgery and that chemo and radiation treatments would maybe prolong my dad’s life for a few months, but quality of life would obviously diminish.  For a few days there, we tried to convince my dad to do the chemo treatments – a miracle could happen! We thought about getting a second opinion for the surgery… But my dad, it seemed, had no interest in any treatments whatsoever.  To my grieving and uncomprehending heart, it appeared that my dad was grateful for the diagnosis because it gave him an excuse to die: he left us sixteen days later.

In the beginning, it looked like my dad was trying, like he was fighting.  After having a whipple procedure done to remove the cancer the first time, he and my mom worked hard to change his diet, take vitamins, get stronger, really take care of themselves.  He refused to do chemo or radiation, though, or look into experimental treatments at larger hospitals.  We couldn’t push him too much – it was his body – but at least it seemed like he was making an effort to be healthier.   I know that the survival rates with pancreatic cancer, even after the whipple, are so poor, the horrible process of chemo and radiation is probably not worth it, but I still hoard a bit of anger at my dad for not doing everything he possibly could to fight the cancer.  Did he not think of ever seeing me get married? Did he not think of ever being a grandfather? Did he not think that maybe we still needed him??  When the cancer returned and the doctors told us there was really nothing they could do, it visibly looked like my dad was relieved – there was a name for the pain, there was a reason for him to not stay in the game any longer.  I can’t imagine the sort of pain he must have experienced, and for so long, but to see the relief, the total acquiescence in his eyes, it hurt me so much.

I wanted to see ANGER; I wanted to see STUBBORNESS; I wanted to see DEFIANCE; I wanted to see a FIGHTER.  I wanted to see my dad – the man who had been a cop and the family drill seargent – tell us that he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to let this thing beat him.  But, now I wonder if that man, who I so desperately wanted my father to be, ever existed at all.

Today, all of these thoughts and images finally emerged into a clear realization that when my sexy man gets sick, the anger that I still feel towards my dad is reawakened and finds a new target.  I still feel angry that my dad didn’t fight;  that it turns out he wasn’t the strong, stubborn, determined man I always thought him to be.  I found myself telling my sexy man that I worried that if something – like cancer – happened to HIM, would HE be  mentally strong enough to fight it?  This scenario, of course, has nothing to do with how a person feels when they have a cold.  It’s a completely different thing.  But, this was the evidence of my mind transposing my dad’s response to cancer with my sexy man’s experience of a common cold.  My sexy man’s vulnerability and weakness during a little head cold triggers that fear in me that he won’t fight for me, for us, if the going gets tougher.  And that fear, anger and disappointment all goes back to how I feel towards my dad, but how do I begin to deal with that?  Is it a lack of understanding of my dad? Do I just have to “let it go and know that my dad loved me?”  But I don’t know that anyone can ever convince me that my dad didn’t just give up… and that, THAT, is the hardest of all for my heart to accept.

Posted by: irrational basis | June 12, 2009

Hacked again.

For the second time this year, someone hacked into the credit card system used by a store I went to, and my debit card info was stolen.  Even though they don’t know my passcode (yet, I’m sure), they attempted a $500 withdrawal from my bank account.  Thankfully, this time around, BofA was alerted by the credit card system and was able to put a hold on my account and then sent me an email to contact them.  I can’t believe this has happened AGAIN.*  Makes me think that cash-in-the-hands-only is perhaps the better rule for more reasons than one.

*First time was back in September when I think they used one of these things to get my info (have to wait a little while for the video to start).  Because they had my pin number, my account was immediately stripped of about $1500 over two days before I caught it.  The only reason I caught it, too, was that I just randomly checked my online balance.  Now I pay MUCH better attention and have alerts sent to me from my bank.  Word to the wise…

Posted by: irrational basis | June 12, 2009

Riding the “Shredded” Bandwagon

I’ve dreamed of my wedding day ever since I was little.  I’ve generally always said that the two most important things to me (apart from the groom, of course!) are 1) the dress 2) the pictures.  In my dreams, I’ve always looked amazing in both.  To make my dreams come true, though, I need to be in better shape.  Granted, the dress fits me to a T, BUT – there is no room for any extra inches.  Seriously.  Don’t doubt me on this.  I’ve already had a slight scare with a certain zipper not wanting to make it all the way up…  So, I’m not kidding when I say I cannot gain a single ounce between now and October 18.  (I’m wearing my dress again for a hometown reception on the 17th.)  And, I’ve always had an issue with my arms – I want DEFINITION people!!!!  I’m strong, but my arms lack those sexy defining lines I pine for.  And, in a strapless dress, there’s just no place for jiggly triceps to hide.     

 

While trying to figure out what might work to kick my butt in gear, I came across a few other bloggers attempting the Jillian Michaels’ challenges – 30 Day Shred & Making the Cut.  Everyone had great things to say about them, and her moves seemed like they would take my workout up a notch.  I bit the bullet and bought both the Shred DVD and the MTC book two weeks ago.

 

I’m not really following either program as they’re intended.  The Shred doesn’t satisfy my cardio desires and sometimes longer workouts, though not necessary, make me feel like I’m doing more for myself (the DVD workouts are only 20mins).  The MTC workouts are much longer and sort-of require going to the gym (though I’ve modified a few for home).  So, on days when I don’t have lots of time or can’t make it out of the house, the DVD is perfect.  The workouts in MTC are AMAZING.  I’ve never worked out so hard in my life.  Even though you only do a few reps of each move, the way she combines everything keeps you huffing and puffing the whole time and I’ve never dreaded the words “perform until muscle failure” more.  Each time I complete a workout, I am sweating like a pig and feeling like a million bucks.  The MTC workout are ideally supposed to be combined with JM’s very specific diet plan.  But, hello??  ONE hard boiled egg for breakfast? Are you kidding me???  Because MTC is designed to only be followed for 30 days, it’s not such a big deal, but there is no way I could be disciplined enough to follow her food restrictions for even 4 hrs!  I am eating healthier and am celebrating over one month of not having had ANY SODA, so I’m hoping that counts for something. 

 

I decided to follow the idea behind the 30 Day Shred, which is that I am working out everyday for 30 days.  I’ve translated this into 30 workouts (either the DVD or MTC) over 30 days.  Some people say this isn’t healthy, but I feel great, go easy when I need to, try to not overwork the same muscles two days in a row, and have skipped a day every once in a while.*  When I do this, though, I do the circuits in the MTC workouts twice or do a DVD workout in the morning and in the evening to make it up.  Today marks the 15th day – halfway there!! 

 

I took all my measurements on the first day and am trying to avoid taking them again until July.  I know that the general rule is that you don’t start to SEE results until about 3 weeks in.   And, folks, if I don’t SEE results, I may have to punch somebody in the face.

Posted by: irrational basis | June 2, 2009

30 Days of Freedom (sort of)

Last week I turned in an opening brief for one case and filed a motion w/ext of time in my other case.  I swear, you couldn’t have slapped the smile off my face or the giddiness out of my step – I had just bought myself thirty days of freedom.

I didn’t realize how stressed and convoluted these cases and deadlines were making me until I put those envelopes in the mail.  I came home an entirely different person.  My sexy man was astonished at the change in my attitude, my energy level, my motivation, my happiness… He half-jokingly told me that I should quit taking cases if it meant I would be this relaxed and happy all the time!

Since ditching my cases for a while (not too long b/c I still have work to do on the opening brief for the case involving the motion), I have been uber-motivated to do other things.  So far, I’ve worked out every single day for the last 8 days, and I’ve been working out harder than I probably ever have in my life!  It feels so good!!!!  I’ve been working on stuff for the wedding, am getting around to finishing the invitations, completed our gift registry, felt relaxed and social enough to go to a party, and picked up my knitting again.  It’s amazing how much free time I have when I’m not worked up over case deadlines or frustrated beyond belief with LexisNexis.

I really hope, though, that I get my next check from the state sometime within these next 30 days or very soon after that, otherwise it’s going to be extremely difficult to pick up those records again come July.

Posted by: irrational basis | May 30, 2009

A Gift?

Last fall, my sexy man and I were sitting at our little dining table with the patio door open behind us when we heard a little rustling noise and the sound of wings.  We looked outside and there were two sweet grey doves walking amidst our chives and dill.  We had planted a long narrow planter with the chives and dill a while back, and there were also planters with other various herbs in them – oregano, mint, thyme, basil, tarragon.  But, it seemed that the doves like the chives best.  I think maybe it was because they were stringy and grassy?  Who knows…

They would come visit us every once in a while, always casually wandering in and out of our herbs, occasionally hanging out in the mint planter, or herb-hopping around the table.  They never really stayed for very long, but would just see what was goin on.  Did they keep track of how things were growing?  Were they eating bugs from the soil?  Did they like the smell?  It was quite the enjoyable mystery to us.

A few weeks ago, we got fed up with the white flies that had taken over almost all of the herbs.  My sexy man had exhausted all remedies to get rid of them, so we decided to just dump them all and start over.  So, into the trash went all the herbs except the chives, which were still flourishing and white-fly free.  My sexy man bought new herb plants and new soil, cleaned out the pots and we began anew.

About two days later, he went out to the patio to water the plants and, two minutes later, he calls out, “Hey! Come out here… you have to see this….”

The doves laid an egg in our chives.

They seem to have abandoned it, but in a strange way, I still feel privileged that they chose our little garden as its resting place.

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