Surprise, Surprise ...

One of my favorite readers recently (10 minutes ago) reminded me that I have a blog, and that I have neglected it of late. Point taken. So here I am. An immediate post. The theme for today: surprises. Not the party or present type. The other type. The shocking type where I wake up one Sunday morning (yesterday, to be exact) and realize that I am now exactly half as old as my Dad. I am not sure what this means, and I am not sure if I like thinking about it. So there. Another surprise? Law school students, professors, and even the dean can be quite entertaining when they want to be. On Saturday night C. and I went to "GW Law Revue." This basically consisted of three hours of law school inside jokes (in song and dance, no less). For example: Pair the music of Thriller to these lyrics ... "You're at G-Dubya, you study through the night. Emanuel won't help you, Mr. Gilbert won't enlight. You're at G-Dubya, you're tired and uptight, in debt, you got no life, you're at G-Dubya, G-Dubya, tonight." Or imagine five law school nerds pretending to be The Backstreet Boys. Or the dean singing on stage. Or law school lyrics to Chicago, Annie, and Vanilla Ice. Really. But I think you had to be there ...

Ode To My Bro ...

Cub Scouts really paid off for my 24-year-old brother, who this week won a pinewood derby competition at the University of Utah. (And he makes fun of BYU!?) Since they put him in the newspaper for this feat, I think he deserves recognition on my blog. And ladies, despite his strangely married Facebook status, last time I checked, he was still single ... though maybe not so much after his new status as a Utah celebrity ...

A Happy Holiday Weekend ...

An equation for a weekend of fun:

First, a tasty Valentine's Day Dinner:

M. & M. posing with the last crumbs of our dinner ...

The cake. I made it. Notice the hearts in the frosting.

+ A visitor from NYC:

H. at Eastern Market.

+ Presidential monuments (and six miles of walking to see them all):

= FUN ... and sore legs ...

Some Notes ...

So, good news: Thanks to the weather (cold and rainy) my school canceled early classes today. (For a bit of slush. Not even any snow. And all of Utah laughs.) Bad news: I had already arrived at school when I learned of this development. So, now I have time to blog before I go listen to a former member of Parliament speak. (And I am really quite excited to hear some quality British talking. It really has been too long.) And speaking of accents, this NYT article proves my Dad to be a natural salesman, evidently partially thanks to his innate adopt-an-accent trait. And I liked this article about Hillary, and how she will not be a good example of how America would react to a woman candidate or president, since she comes with too much personal baggage to be representative of other women. (I know, I swore off politics. But no one really believed that, right ...)

High School Revisited ...

Lately law school reminds me of the movie version of high school. First, the internship search, which feels like the stereotypical college-application process. Counselors force us to listen to their inane presentations about how to write a resume and a cover letter. Some people go crazy and apply to literally hundreds of places. Then we all go to the school internship fair, where employers try to interview as many of us as possible in a four-hour period. I survived three such interviews yesterday. The first one seemed relatively normal. The next interviewer began by saying, "I am impressed you have so much journalism experience out there in the middle of the country." Wow. Yes, ma'am, we learn how to read AND write, and sometimes we use these skills to publish newspapers about our rustic daily life in the Wild Wild West. Luckily, the third interviewer assumed that even Utahns watch television, and we discussed Grey's Anatomy more than my resume.

And remember that Grey's episode where they had a prom in the hospital? Well, that brings me to my next high school flashback: law school prom. Now, I liked my high school prom, but definitely not enough to want to repeat it eight years later. But I had a cute new dress and nowhere else to wear it, so C. and I went (together, alone). At said law school prom (technically Barrister's Ball) my friend R. and I talked about politics, like we frequently do. In the midst of the politics, he looked at me and said, "Are you a rebel?" Obviously, too much alcohol for R. tonight, if he thought "rebel" when he looked at the only girl in the room with clothing covering both shoulders and chest. (No exaggeration here, and thanks Nana!) He clarified. He meant Mormon rebel, since all the other Mormons he knew were already married ...

A Happy Post ...

I officially have the best family ... Nana sent me her special hot chocolate, and my Mom sent the best sugar cookies in the world. I love them.

C. making adorable valentines, with her favorite stickers. Direct quote: "I need to buy like 100 of them so I never run out. I love that they're bubbly and they stick out."

Modeling the apron my Mom made me. A brave move, Mom, but I actually really love it. But I make no guarantees about how long this photo will remain in the public domain ...

One Last Post ...

This will be my last election-related post for a long time. Maybe later I will like another candidate enough to write and feel hopeful about him (or, theoretically, her. But I do not see that happening in 2008). But today I just cannot. Not yet. Who knew I would be so sad about what I knew to be inevitable? So, one last election post, in honor of Mitt.

Click here to read his withdrawal speech ...

Big Girls Don't Cry ...

Actually, they do. Some daily, some rarely, but they do cry. Actually, so do boys. And actually, I do not care, and I do not want to read about it on CNN as if it matters. I do not care if Hillary does or does not cry. I do not consider anyone, male or female, an emotional wreck if s/he tears up occasionally in the midst of a grueling campaign. Likewise, I do not consider anyone an emotionless machine simply because s/he does not sit on Oprah's couch and cry me a river. (Well, I don't watch Oprah, so I guess s/he'd be crying someone else a river there. And I guess Oprah would not be inviting the she candidate onto her couch anytime soon. But I think you get the idea.)

If we had a candidate who cried at every campaign rally and press conference, then yes, I think that should be reported and taken into consideration. But really. Do I care if Hillary faked her teary episodes? Does that make her any different than some man, or woman, who really wants to cry but refuses because it would look bad? No. These tears do not make her different than other candidates. Does it make her more condescending, if she cries on the eve of two major primaries merely because crying will win her votes? Maybe. But women have never voted for a candidate simply because he cried, and it would be disheartening to think that we would do so now. Last time I checked, we voted for a candidate not a gender. If a few tears make a difference tomorrow, and if a few tears elect us our first woman president, well, that will be reason to cry ...

P.S. My last post has mysteriously disappeared. I will repost it soon ...