I hear the train a-coming...

This evening on the train, I sat watching a dude who looked like The Sartorialist threw up all over him. I mean, seriously. With his fancy briefcase and his pants rolled just-so to reveal that he wasn't wearing any (visible) socks with his fancy shoes. Even the buttons on his blazer were fancy, in an understated Euro kind of way. I really expected him to get off the train and unlock a fancy retro bike to ride home on. But he was chewing this ENORMOUS piece of gum, and for whatever reason, I found myself unable to look away from him. It's awkward when you know you're staring and you just can't stop, you're only hoping not to get caught. I don't think Mr. Sartorialist noticed my staring--I was sitting far enough away.

I also played one of my favorite games in my head with him--the "which stop is this guy getting off at?" game. I lost today--big. I thought FOR SURE this guy was getting off at the hipsteriest stop on the line, two before my stop. When he didn't get off there (shocking!) I thought, okay, he must be a slightly poorer or grungier hipster than I thought--getting off two stops after mine. All that when, in fact, he got off at the same time I did. I couldn't believe it. I didn't see him after leaving the station, so he must have gone the other way. One of the things I love so much about this city is that I could see him again tomorrow afternoon, riding the train home. Or I could never see him again. Who knows.

summertime chi...it's the good life

Summertime in Chicago is borderline magical. People are PSYCHED about the fact that it's summer (I guess that's what happens when you spend 8 months of the year in hibernation). One of the best things about living here in the summer---aside from the weather, and the patios (so many patios), and the beaches---is that people want to come visit you, which means you get to do all the touristy things you wanted to do anyway under the guise of being a good host. PLUS, you get to see all kinds of people you love without having to go anywhere. Seriously. Awesome.

The hubs and I are fortunate enough to have a place big enough to put up a fair number of people comfortably, and over the next couple of months we're going to have a bunch of people in and out and I couldn't be more excited about it.

The other thing the summertime has meant is that it's nice enough for me to run outside. I say "run" and what I really mean is "old man shuffle." You know what I mean. Where you're not really walking, but you're also going so slowly old ladies with walkers could be passing you. Anyway, despite my ridiculous pace, I've been pretty consistent about it over the last month and a half or so, and honestly, feeling really good. When I stop working out, I always forget how much better I feel when I am working out consistently. It's like it's good for me or some shit.

It's going to be so sad when fall comes. Ah, well. For now: it's the good life.

Unsolicited Uterus Update: Still Empty

I had a SUPER vivid dream this week, which almost never happens to me. Or at least, I almost never remember my dreams. Anyway, in said dream I was pregnant. Like super pregnant. And people's reactions to it were sort of the most hilarious part. The hubs was ecstatic. Liz, you were INSANELY mad at me. Like, taking it as a personal affront that I would do this to you.

Anyway, as I mentioned a few posts ago, I feel like everyone around me is having babies. I think when I mentioned it, I probably sounded like a petulant little kid, annoyed (like Liz) that people would be doing this to me. I don't want to be old enough for all my friends to be parents! I don't want to stop being a mostly irresponsible asshole! The truth is, though, I really couldn't be happier for all the parents and soon-to-be parents in my life. It does, of course, freak me out that I'm old enough to be a mom, and that sometimes when I see an especially cute kid, I do have a twinge of...what is that? maternal instinct? overactive ovaries? Then when the kid gets hysterical, I feel a wave of relief that I'm not actually its mom.

The hubs and I sometimes talk about having kids, as a sort of "yeah...someday we should do that" kind of thing. Or we'll see one of those cute kids pre-hysteria and joke about kidnapping it. (There was a blonde two year old girl at the hubs's family camping trip this year that spoke French. I was concerned we might make it back to Chicago and I actually would discover her in the trunk.) Given how much fear it strikes in me to even wake up from a dream where I was preggers, I wonder if I'll ever think "yes, this is the time. we are totes ready to be ONE HUNDRED PERCENT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE WELFARE OF ANOTHER, HELPLESS HUMAN BEING." I'm guessing no? I don't even take very good care of my own damn self. But I guess we'll probably do it anyway. Someday. A long, long time from now.

Too Close to Home

I read an article in the last couple weeks (I don't remember what or where, or I'd link) that mentioned, sort of off-handedly, that lawyers are people who were good at everything all their lives, but never really great at anything. (I think the thrust of the article was that, then, in order to really excel in their careers, lawyers need to break out of that, specialize and market themselves as experts in a particular niche, but none of us want to do that....that's not really the point here anyway.)

So it just stuck. in. my. brain. Because it's so absurdly true of me, and of most of the lawyers I know. But one of the things I always thought was, well, if I can be good at all this shit, maybe I can be a great lawyer.

What's been in part frustrating for me about my job is that, definitionally, a BIG part of what it means to be "great" at it is being available. All the time. Working nights. Working weekends. Answering emails late. Going in to the office even if you hadn't planned to. It's not even going above and beyond because it's expected. In fact, it's required. I don't know how to get away from that, especially because I work at a firm that's now (allegedly) one of the least demanding in that way in the city. As I think I said before, I work in an area of the law that doesn't lend itself super-easily to non-firm practice, at least not before you're well above my pay grade (like 15 years senior to me), so there don't seem to be a ton of options for hopping off the treadmill. And that freaks me the fuck out.

Comments

So, I recently had a bunch of spam comments show up, and in an effort to stem the tide, I've turned on comment moderation. So, if you comment (and please, do comment! it seriously makes my day) and it doesn't show up right away, it's probably just because I haven't gotten to approving it yet. I apologize for the delay.

Oh, also, you're no longer able to comment anonymously, which I apologize for--I hate that, but it turns out most of the anonymous comments were bots anyway. Sadface.

Laying Down the Law

Being a lawyer is kind of awesome, at times. The last week has been sort of insanely busy and hectic and stressful and I have to admit, I am very glad it's over. But I also learned a lot this week and got to work on a pretty interesting case and be a valuable member of a team. So it's not all bad.

When I was in law school, I always thought it would be hard to have really good opposing counsel. It turns out, that's the EASIEST possible scenario. When opposing counsel is good--which is to say, prepared, knowledgeable, and, you know, at least a little smart--it makes my life a LOT easier. It's when opposing counsel are, as my mentor says, "jokers," that things get complicated.

I work in a relatively specialized area of the law, but one that general practice lawyers are always convinced they can give a shot. When I'm having to go back to square negative-one to explain to the court WHAT THE LAW ACTUALLY SAYS because these jokers are just talking around in circles, or asking for things the COURT CANNOT ACTUALLY DO, or even saying things that are JUST STRAIGHT UP LIES, it wastes a lot of time I could actually be arguing the issues. Which is something I hadn't thought about until I actually had to do it.

It's also interesting reading press coverage of cases I'm actually working on, which has now happened a couple of times. Like the opposing counsel jokers, it turns out journalists often just don't get what the law actually says, but at least they seem to care about the fact that they don't know rather than just going with whatever they think makes the most sense. It is kind of cool to see people care about the stuff that I do, regardless.

Also on my mind: how is seriously everyone getting preggers? I am not ready to be of an age where my friends all have kids. Unsolicited uterus update: still blissfully empty.

home alone

Yesterday I walked a mile and a half (each way!) and paid $5 for two cupcakes and a glass of milk from this adorable establishment, Sweet Mandy B's. It has, I can say with total confidence, the most delicious cupcakes in the world. Actually, the cupcakes are good, but it's the frosting that haunts my dreams. I got one carrot cake and one red velvet--which is to say, double the cream cheese frosting, please. I sat on the bench out front and ate the carrot cake one and drank the milk and brought the red velvet back for after dinner. It. Was. Glorious.

But also, this post is about how pathetic I am when left to my own devices. The hubs skipped town to go run some absurd distance in some other city, and I stayed home alone. I watched disgusting amounts of HGTV and subsist on cupcakes and goldfish. I'm pretty damn lucky to have him around most of the time to be sure I don't die wearing my ugly sweatpants, surrounded by what appear to be the remnants of a first grader's birthday party.