Tuesday, November 20, 2007


I'm not a good traveler. This isn't really news; I've never been a good traveler. Flying makes me feel sick. I get nervous that I'm going to miss my plane, but if I get there too early I get bored from waiting too long in the airport. I don't like airport food, but I always eat way too many calories anyway (stupid Swedish fish).

Anyway, last weekend I flew to DC for a baby shower and to visit a law school friend. The flying was actually remarkable good. I had direct flights at good times. I dressed well - wasn't too hot or too cold on the plane. I wasn't seated next to someone who smelled like a bar (ug, my last trip involved this at 8 am and even though I wasn't the one who was hungover, I wanted to throw up).

The interesting moment this time actually came on my way back to my apartment - riding the metrolink. The airport here is an endpoint for our public transit system, so it waits a while on the tracks at the airport. As I'm sitting there reading my book, I notice this guy. He gets on the train, sets down two large bags, and leaves. Doesn't just move a couple seats from his bags, doesn't go to talk to somebody, doesn't go help someone else get their stuff on the train. Just, leaves. No one else seems to notice.

This is when I discover that if someone wanted to have a terrorist attack near me (or apparently those other people as well), they could easily do it. Even though I am well aware of the signs in the train that say, "please notify personnel if you see bags left unattended" especially at the airport where they are saying that every five minutes, I didn't report those bags. I didn't want to cause any trouble. Instead, what I did was calmly get up and move to the other end of the train. I decided that if the guy didn't come back before the train left the station, I would press the help button. Luckily a few minutes later, the guy did come back and sit with his stuff so my freaking out a little bit was for nothing. Still - part of me worries - what if he had intended to blow up the train. Certainly no one would have done anything.

Monday, November 19, 2007


So, this story isn't really mine to tell, but I felt the need to share.

One of my friends works at a major national law firm. She's a second year associate. A few days ago, a client she worked with was at the firm finalizing a settlement. She wanted to say hi and mentioned it to a junior partner. Right at that time, the client (a 35ish year old man) came out of the office, saw my friend, and said, "hey doll." So didn't really know how to respond to that, but justsort of smiled and said hi.

Later, in passing, she mentioned it to the junior partner in a non-complaining type way, but still making it clear that she didn't know what was up with that. He had noticed the "doll" comment, but told her he thought she had "that kind of a relationship with the client." He thought she had encouraged that kind of familiarity.

What's up with that. I mean, from an older client that might not be quite so weird, but from a young guy? How could he think it was okay to call his lawyer "doll?"

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Its a bad year for boots

I had a sad experience at nordstroms last night. As some of you may know, the half yearly sale started yesterday. I love the half yearly sale - its a great way to get good shoes and clothes at reduced prices, all with nordstroms service. Plus, nordstroms has a fantastic collection of shoes. But, this year it left something to be desired.

I went to the store last night with a specific goal in mind. I'm over pointy toed boots. I have big feet and pointed toed things just make big feet look bigger. Specifically, what I wanted was a nice pair of rounded toe (or square toe if cute) black ankle/mid calf boots with a moderate and attractive heel. Something that looks good under pants, and isn't too uncomfortable. I found nothing.

The pickings were slim on the not knee high boots, and man, they were all either pointy toed or really ugly. After finding absolutely nothing in the sale section, I ventured into the rest of the shoe department, but my luck was little better. I did find one acceptable pair, but I'm tough on shoes. I tend to get the heel caught in sidewalk cracks so I'm much better off with a stacked heel than with a leather covered heel. The one pair I found that I didn't love, but might well buy, have a leather covered heel. Why is shoe shopping so difficult.

(oh and I am totally against flat boots - they make me look short and fat and I'm not ok with that).

Sunday, November 04, 2007

3 for Friday

Friday night was eventful...and I have three unrelated things to report so here we go:
L fucking L

On Friday night we were supposed to go to this new wine bar. When we got to the wine bar, we discovered that there was a two hour wait to be seated. There was no way that anyone I was with would be willing to wait for two hours for food and wine (at 7:30 at night) so we left. We agreed to go to another bar that was "just down the street": Llywellyn's - but I didn't know how to spell it at the time. Now, none of us knew how to get there, but we had a general idea. After driving for a little bit and being completely unable to find it, I decided to call 411. The conversation went something like this:

411 woman: What city and state please?
Me: Webster Groves, Missouri
411: What city and state?
411: I'm sorry, what city and state?
411: Alright, thanks, how can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I'd like the address for a restaurant called Llywellyn's. Its L L something...
411: What kind of a restaurant is it?
Me: Um, a bar restaurant?
Car load of Girls: ITS A BAR!!
Me: Um, its a Welsh pub.
411: How do you spell that?
Me: UM... L L...um
Car load of girls: L fucking L!!
Me: L L E...um, I don't know
Car load of girls: L fucking L! How many restaurants start with L fucking L?
411: Can you tell me what street it is on?
Me: No,if I knew what street it is on, I wouldn't be calling you.
411: um...Right
Me: I'm sorry, you're not really helping me. I'm gonna hang up now.

Random Meeting

I haven't seen my ex, the last guy I was in love with, for over two years. I haven't spoken to him or called him or emailed him. The closest I've come to having contact with him was having one of my co-clerks tell me she had judged a law school competition with him and thought he was cute and that I should date him (she had NO idea that we had a history) and my other co-clerk dealing with him on an appointed case and her finding out that he was engaged. I almost never think of him.

On friday, I walked into the bar and suddenly there he was, coming over to say "hi." It was awkward and weird. I'm glad he came over cause ignoring each other would have been terrible, but it just made me feel off all night long. So strange too. When I asked him what was new with him, he didn't tell me he was married, even though he was clearly there with his new wife. The one thing this drove home to me was that it is really time to remove his name from my cell phone. I hadn't even realized he was still the phone book until I was scrolling through later that night...Its time to let go of that one.

A diagnosis
Finally, I have some explanation for what is going on with my arm, and it came from an odd source. This weekend one of my roommates best friends visited us from Chicago. I hadn't previously realized it, but it turns out she is an occupational therapist with a specialization in hands, wrists, and elbows. When she heard my problem as we sat in that bar on Friday night, she couldn't help but ask, "do you mind if i take a look at it?" I couldn't have minded less and was excited to hear what she had to say.

Finally, someone explained in terms that I could understand what is holding me back. It seems that my doctor telling me that "you're really tight" actually has a logical meaning. The thing that connects my bones together in my arm is super tight, tighter than it is supposed to be, and that's a big part of what is keeping me from getting my supination back. Apparently, the bones need some room to move in order to be able to turn properly. Talking to Rose made me feel so much better about the future of my elbow.