I don't want to think right now ...

I am reading stories to the 3-year-old in my lap (my favorite 3-year-old, truth be told) when my Dad comes in and starts asking her questions. The same questions my Mom and I just pestered her with, about preschool, and her day, and the like. So she tells him the truth: "I don't want to think right now." I am so with you, girl. Who wants to think, and to write two papers, when there are friends to see and movies to watch and turkeys (or ham in our case this year) to eat ...

Dear People Who Hate My Braids ...

You should probably not read the next post, or at least just have someone read it to you so you can avoid seeing the pictures. Because this weekend involved two days of two braids. And I know you hate them. I am confused as to the exact reason, but I have thought of a few possibilities:

1. I look silly/ridiculous/unattractive.
2. I am not 10 years old.
3. I am not in Utah anymore. And people from Utah make people outside of Utah think certain thoughts about people from Utah with braids. (I hate the word "Utahn." But that is a different post entirely.)

I am not sure which reason you choose. But I am pretty sure I will keep wearing them anyway. Because:

1. I like them. Not in the "I look good today" way, but in the "good things will happen today" way that I also feel when I wear the yellow shoes and the striped shirt. I guess if I ever have a really, really bad day I could just wear the braids WITH the yellow shoes and the striped shirt. Although I am pretty sure that would make my mother cry. So maybe not. But I am still going to keep wearing braids. Just to warn you. Thanks for talking to me anyway.

Sincerely,

Callie

New York at Christmastime ...

Yes, in the land of Capital C, it is already Christmastime, and it has been for the past 14 days, for the record. So this weekend, I went to New York City for two reasons: 1) to see Heather, and 2) to see the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall. I loved the show. Everyone should go. Or at least everyone who loves Christmas should go. I also loved the self-termed Irish lassie sitting next to me. She wore a red flannel plaid skirt and a wreath pin, spoke with a great accent, and told me all about her son. And how she has gone to the show for 40 years. She loves it. Clearly, we are kindred spirits. The other highlights of the weekend included walking through Central Park, drinking apple cider at the Union Square farmer's market (or is it farmers' market?! Kallee, I am sure we discussed this at one point), catching up with Emily while eating delicious chocolate, and last but certainly not least, finally going to the Strand bookstore, which has 18 miles of books on four levels. I loved that too ...

At Central Park, taking what I like to call a "special picture." For some reason I find great satisfaction in being able to take a picture of ourselves without asking a random stranger to do so. It feels like a great accomplishment. I might be a bit too independent for my own good.

Another special picture. This one in Radio City.

What the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree looks like before the lights and ornaments. Autumn, I do not think this quite meets the definition of a poor little Christmas tree standing all alone.

Christmas decorations ...

A confession ...

So today the wives of the president and vice president spoke at GW. I saw Jill Biden get out of the car. And I did not recognize her. And for some reason it seems like this should be publicly confessed. So there. Also, I like the number 11. And Christmas music. And macaroni and cheese. And discussions about the color yellow. And today included all of those things. So there ...

P.S. I also like this. And especially this: "I represent a church that believes in human dignity, in treating others with respect even when we disagree – in fact, especially when we disagree. The Church’s past statements are on the public record for all to see. In these comments and in our actions, we try to follow what Jesus Christ taught. Our language will always be respectful and acknowledge those who differ, but will also be clear on matters that we feel are of great consequence to our society."

A little note ...

Dear Professor Who Sounds Like Joan Cusack,

My last name is an actual word. A verb, to be exact, and one that you read every Sunday in the store ads you get with your newspaper. It is not pronounced boy-ees. Or boo-iss. Which were your last two attempts in class. If you expect me to decipher boring and complicated subjects like the one you teach, and you expect me to master them enough to actually attempt to answer your questions in class, I expect you to learn how to read my last name. Or, as a compromise, we can agree that you will never learn how to pronounce my last name and thus you will never again call on me in class. I feel really great about that idea.

Thanks,

Callie

P.S. I would also like it if you never asked me to do any math in class. Yes, I still remember yesterday, when you called on me and the answer involved doing some multiplication in my head. I know you think it is easy when one of the numbers is 100,000, but I think it is easy when my last name is an actual word. So now we are back where we started. Except that I lucked out and answered one of the math questions correctly. You, I am afraid, still mangled my name ...

The Supremes...

Carly and I decided it would be pathetic if we graduated from law school in D.C. and never listened to an oral argument at the Supreme Court. So we waited in line and made it in this week. I quite enjoyed listening to the questions from the Justices, especially after reading their opinions for so long now. I also found it rather amusing to watch them during the arguments. I could only see their heads and shoulders, and it turns out that at any given time at least half of them sit in some variation of having their face in their hands. Not so much Justice Ginsburg. She sort of leans forward like a little bird. And Justice Thomas and Justice Scalia liked to rock in their chairs. And no, Justice Thomas did not say a word ...