Muskrat Love... or something

You know that nighttime noise that often woke me on garbage night?

Last night, the night *after* garbage night, I heard it again.

Only this time, it was only 8 PM or so. And E was awake.

I brought him to the area of the house where the grinding of the gravel on the roof was loudest and he agreed.

SOMETHING was up there.

And it sounded big.

We took the mag light and ran outside to investigate.

We rushed out and surely would have seen something or someone flee, but from the sides of the house, no matter what the angle, we saw nothing.

And then, E climbed on top of the fence, shined the light and started laughing.

He laughed so hard he couldn't speak.

***laugh***It's***laugh***Racoons.***Laugh***You know...***laugh***Doing racoon business****

And then they ran away.

And then E felt very bad.

Oh... I feel sorry for him. I interrupted his night of fun...

I, of course, took the feminist side, His? His? night of fun?

uh... both of their fun. I feel bad for both of them...

And thus, another great mystery is solved. Also, I now know, which I probably could have guessed from the great raven/crow debacle, that 40 pounds on our roof, rubbing around on the tar & gravel without the muffling of any attic or insulation, sounds like well over 100 lbs.

So, no more fear. It's just animals, doing animal things. On our roof. Of course!

The Rapture of the Word

I read for pleasure in bursts. I nurse a single book for weeks, a few pages before I fall asleep a few nights a week until there's a weekend involving a plane, a beach, a lake, or any other opportunity to sit still and read, at which point, I'll race through as much text as my time allows.

This weekend, I started Friday's travel by speeding my way through the Wall Street Journal at the airport, followed by the courtesy subscriptions I receive thanks to Active.com's subscription offer at race sign up -- Namely, the quality reading material offered by the fine people at People and National Geographic Adventure Travel.

I also managed to enjoy the Economist cover-to-cover, something I rarely have enough time or focus to do. But when I do, I sincerely enjoy it. Leave it to the Brits to make snarky comments about political economies that can make me laugh out loud. And, to round out my periodical consumption, I spent some time each day perusing the Miami Herald that was delivered to our hotel, including the articles on Jose Padilla's Sentencing, which, sadly, is something educated Americans should know and think about.

But enough of the regular circulation. Let us focus on my chosen books.

First (one down!), I finished Arvay's gift-book of Martin Booth's Gweilo: A emoir of a Hong Kong Childhood. Oh my. How does someone like me even begin to discuss this book. It's everything I love: foreign lands, foreign cultures, food, common humanity, adventure, and, above all else, curiosity. I highly recommend this book for those who are looking for an educational escape to Hong Kong of the 1950s.

Then (2 out of 20 down!), I read Sabine Dardenne's I choose to live. Wow. This is why I read books. The strength of this young woman (although parts of the book include letters she wrote at the age of 12, I will not call her a child, for she gave up her childhood the second she was kidnapped and refused to be a victim.) This book was not a literary work of art. Rather, it was a work of life. A story that needed to be told: of survival, fighting, and the reality that even happy endings are often full of struggle and unhappiness -- but we must struggle and find the happiness. Because that's the whole point.

And, to mellow it out (3/20 isn't particularly memorable), I meandered through The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. The scary thing for me is that I've jokingly referred to myself as one of highly functional aspergers. I know it's probably true on some level, but it doesn't really affect my life -- I live in Silicon Valley. Reading this book brought home some realities about how I handle stress, how non-neuro-typical those behaviours are, and how much I can relate to a severely autistic individual. No doubt, the book was written to evoke this response from its readers. So it did a good job with me. But still. I found this book significantly more affecting than I expected. Well done Mark Haddon.

And there you have it. Back to the grind. Next time I find time for enjoyment of the word outside of work and blogs, I'll be sure to let you know.

Bienvenido a Miami

Yeah, I'm taking it back to the Fresh Prince.

What? It had been years (7 or so) since I'd last been to Florida, when I made a whirlwind tour with Nish. The last time, I loved the beaches, the old folks, the weather, and, well, to be honest, the Nasa space center. In fact, I distinctly remember food not playing an important role in that trip. Key food memories involved one meal at a time-share presentation buffet, another at Olive Garden in Orlando, and several others composed of cruise ship food, and not elite high-end cruise ship, think cruise ship pitching bahama-mamas at every corner which is run as a special vacation package to get you to buy a timeshare.

We didn't buy the timeshare, but I've grown as a person. In particular, I've become more food focused, as have my vacations.

So, last weekend, E and I met up in Miami with 3 of his high school buddies, two of their significant others, and one of their significant other's college roommates for an 8-person weekend of fun in South Beach.

It a blast. Sun. Fun. Food. Beautiful people. Relaxation (I didn't even bring my laptop!). A gorgeous and flat (if humdity-filled and slower than expected) half marathon.

Did I mention food? Well, good. 'Cause that was the main focus. Despite the low body fat, South beach is an eating frenzy waiting to happen.

Friday, after a 3-hour delay for takeoff and a 4.5 hour flight, we finally arrived, checked into our horrifically loud room at the aging Marseilles and then we headed out to enjoy a reunion with friends from afar over a midnight Italian thin-crust pizza and wine on Lincoln Road followed by another round at a Sushi joint and outdoor bar on Collins Ave. in the glorious 68F weather. OH! AND, I ALMOST FORGOT! WE SAW PINK-MAN! The fact that I called out to him by name and we hugged surprised my companions quite a bit. J commented, "I feel like I just stepped into a Fellini film."

Saturday, we relaxed, ate some Sushi for lunch, read on the beach and in hammacks, and at night, after a day of various independent activities, we treated ourselves to a huge Italian Feast where the 3 orders of the surf and turf taught us that P's default rule should probably be followed: Never order filet mignon at an Italian Restaurant. (I realized upon watching those that broke the rule struggle with their steaks that while I never technically knew the rule, I definitely have always followed the rule. Play to the strengths of the restaurant where you find yourelf... Duh!). To the restaurant's credit, they credited us 1/2 the price of the surf & turf for each unsatisfied turf customer (all 3) and we all left full and content. From there, we walked our way back through South Beach and toured several of the bars in the cooler hotels on Collins street.

Sunday, M and I got up at 5:30 AM EST (that's 2:30 PST for those of you keeping track!) to run the Miami half marathon. Holy mackerel! Humidity slows you down! Seriously. I finished this half marathon at 1 second under the first half of my marathon in December. But I had no energy left. As painfully slow as it was, in addition to the thrill of running in the dark in a gorgeous new city with a friend I never see, I'm glad I had this learning experience since the Nagano marathon is likely to be humid as well. I definitely have a better idea of what might be a reasonable time goal for Nagano and I'm glad I didn't set it on the basis of my performance in California.

E, S and R met M and I at the 6 mile marker to cheer us on. That's how I know E loves me. He was there, awake, dressed, wearing pants, even (!) at 7 AM EST (aka, 4 AM PST.)

After the run, Sunday turned into the glorious debauchery that you'd expect. A big brunch. Champagne. Gelato for lunch. An afternoon on the beach, reading on a chaise lounge while E hid under the umbrella and enjoying a couple of cocktails. And, of course, we capped the day with another amazing dinner with the group, this time at a super swank establishment serving meals with an amazing blend of flavors, Vix. After dinner, we enjoyed a drink at the Catalina bar (wacky decor, not the best drinks, but great ambiance and quiet enough that you could sit with a big group and talk. The pool area is *very cool*.)

Monday found us sleeping in (because after we changed rooms to a less noisy one, the Marseilles was no longer the bane of my existence), getting ready, enjoying a full lunch of gazpacho and italian pizzas, and then heading to the airport for the return. This time, no delays, only a missed approach at SFO due to a commuter jet off of our wing... scary!

And now? Well, now I'm back home. Relaxed. 3 books into the new year's 20-book challenge. Frustrated with work (already?). And ready for my next vacation.

Hope all is well with you and yours.

Marathon, the third, on deck

Well, it's official. I registered for my third marathon -- and this time, it's international. Assuming all goes well, I'll be running the Nagano Marathon in April.

First, for pacing, I've got a half marathon this coming weekend, and based on my performance, I'll be setting my pace goals for the marathon. It should be interesting, since I've been sick, sick, sick-amundo for about two weeks and running like crap, if at all.

I expected to take a serious hit on my time this last weekend, and went out for my first long run after deep chest cough recovery to find that I was *faster* than I had been 2 weeks prior. As in, much faster. As in I ran 9 miles at the fastest consecutive pace I'd run since during the last marathon. Wow! It was such an enjoyable, fast, light, speedy run. I hadn't had a non-race run like that in more than 6 months. It was so fun -- I found myself grinning, even as rain pelted me and wind sang in my ears because I should have waited 'til the storm passed. I guess the speed training on the treadmill once or twice a week was actually paying off, despite the illness.

So, stay tuned. In addition to blathering on about the boring 2nd year associate legal life that I lead and the food-obsessed breaks that I take, I'll now go back to my old habit of annoying all of you non-runners, with 3 consecutive months of marathon training posts.

Oh, and if you were wondering, I finally managed to get just barely back within my 10-lb healthy weight range after the holidays. Just in time for this weekend's race (and bathing suit weather!). I suspect at least some of the newfound and very joyful increased speed is allocable to that change... but who am I to resist?

Onward!

It's the season

I have gotten back in contact with several friends recently and have come to learn that big changes are afoot.

Law firms are merging. Companies are going out of business. People are getting engaged. People are quitting their jobs for different opportunities.

I guess it's the new year.

Me. I'm still plugging along with my resolution: to roll with the punches and be more relaxed.

The latest internal revelation? In coding, they say, "write one to throw away." In literature, they say, "Just write. The craft is in the editing. And re-editing. And re-re-editing."

But in contracts? Well, the clients don't really want to hear that you wrote this one to throw away. Or that you just wrote. In that way, writing a first draft contract is actually harder than coding or writing: there is a small, but very real chance that the other side might just sign it.

You know, 'cause it's the season for change, and people are doing things to make things happen and all...

Is it really almost February of 2008? Crazy.

Roasted Winter Vegetables

I have been working too much. But learning quite a bit. And, really, what do you do when you are presented with an opportunity to work too much and learn quite a bit other than work and hope for respite.

So, here I am.

But damn. If you need a delicious, ridiculously healthy winter recipe, I recommend the following.

ROASTED WINTER VEGETABLES

-1 carrot, halved lenthwise, and then quartered
-2 leeks, heavy green ends removed, and then quartered, parallel to the long axis
-1 bunch fennel, root end removed, and then sliced into 1/8 portions
-1 delicata squash, cut into quarters, seeds removed with a spoon
- 4 red radishes, slices into 1/8 inch slices with the root end removed
-1/2 stick butter
-3 leaves fresh sage

1. Pre-heat oven to 400F. Prep vegetables. Arrange them in a pan in a visually pretty arrangement, place in the oven for 10 minutes.
2. Melt butter over medium heat, add sage in torn leaves for 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat. Add a dusting of salt and mix evenly. Open oven and pour over vegetables.
3. Take the butter pan and coat with 2-3 times around the pan with olive oil. Add 2 T of balsamic vinegar. Mix the blend in the pan 'til evenly mixed and aromatic over medium heat. Open oven and pour over vegetables.
4. Roast vegetables for a total of almost 1 hour. Just below. Enjoy after 5 minutes cooling. Delicious!!!

Enjoy!

No more favors

If you ask me to send you a draft of an agreement before you said you'd need it, and I oblige you with an early draft and a note that section 10 is still subject to review, sending me an email that berates me for some typos in section 10 and copying your colleagues will not make me very happy.

Especially when I am sick.

Your work is now my last priority.

One of those days

I woke with a worse chest cough than I went to bed with. (The grammar of the previous sentence alone should give you an idea of where the day was headed.) Tired, grumpy, achey. You know, sick.

But, I had a big day of work ahead of me, so I went in early and busted out a 12-hour day.

Around noon I realized I'd left my wallet at home. Awesome. Not that I would want to buy sodas when my throat is sore or anything...

A few minutes later, I found myself at Starbucks with my closest girlfriend from work and she explained why she had given her notice that day. It was for a much better opportunity, and I'm happy for her. But still, I'm really gonna miss her. She's one of the few people at work who will go with me when I *really* need to take an hour or two break.

I stayed late at work to bust through as much as I could and also because I needed access to partners who were very busy all day and sometimes, you just have to wait 'til they have time for you. This waiting was partially to walk through an agreement with a partner where he pointed out all of the things I missed, that I shouldn't have missed, but I did, because I don't have enough time to do as good of a job as I would like to do. Basically, I did some fairly shabby work. And we both knew it.

Thankfully, I coughed my way through the review of the agreement, so he felt sorry for me and probably blamed a little bit of the lackluster performance on my health (when in reality, it's time pressure, life balance, and subconsciously choosing not to spend the time to do a perfect job when I know a partner is going to check my work).

Tonight was supposed to be healthy night -- yoga, vegetarian food, and no alcomohal. But, instead, when I got home, I asked if we could reschedule. E, sweet husband that he is, obliged me (he hates yoga anyways) and went to the store to buy wine and pre-made soup.

Here's to hoping tomorrow is a little bit better.

My Sister

Fell, bouldering in Tahoe without a top-rope and broke her foot before landing in the freezing water almost 6 months ago.

Watched her boyfriend offer to drive her stick shift civic due to the foot that was broken and didn't stop him from crashing it into his parents' cabin, despite the gunning of the motor and the uncertainty between the clutch and brake because, he said he knew how to drive stick.

Is beautiful, beyond belief.

Was non-weight-bearing on her broken foot for 16 weeks.

At one point, became so frustrated that her 3rd cast just "fell off." Okay, so she took it off with a flathead screwdriver 12 hours after it was casted, but that's what she told the doctor...

Sings happy things as songs, just like me, like the song she left on my voicemail, after 6 months of rehab and casts.....

I, have, 2, *good* fee-eeet!.

Congrats to my sister, whom I love beyond my ability to express! Yay for happy feet!

2007: My Year in Books

I didn't challenge myself to 25 books for 2007, and good thing, since I didn't get near 2006's 24 books.

But, I did finish a healthy 18, which, given the whole first-year lawyer thing and the two marathons in one year makes me think I must really enjoy reading, and, that despite my fears, I am semi-balanced (if a wee-bit over-extended).

1. How to Work a Room by Susan Roanne: 20% useful, 80% drither. Not recommended. Left it on a plane as a non-gift to the next passenger.
2. Cosmic Banditos: A.C. Weisbecker. A hilariously whole-circle story of: travel, drug use, quantum mechanics, piracy, bananas and banditos.
3. The Rain of Gold: Victor Villasenor Amazing.
4. The People's Guide to Mexico by Carl Franz & Lorena Havens: Very Good.
5. The Diamond Cutter by Geshe Michael Roach: a bit too detailed for the length. More like an admonishment to take on a more serious study of Tibetan budhism. But, many great lessons and suggestions for being balanced in the work world.
6. The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom: Cheesy and trite but true. Sad and beautiful. A perfect cross-country plane read if you enjoy sappy emotional books that make you cry and grateful for your life.
7. Little White Lies: A Novel of Love and Good Intentions by Gemma Townley: Brit Chick Lit. Guilty pleasure, all the way. A very fast read. Recommended only for women and men who like fashion and love-story dramas.
8. The Lives of John Lennon by Albert Goldman: Great story of a fascinatingly troubled man. Excellent pop history education.
9. The Tomato Festival Cookbook by Lawrence Davis-Hollander: 150 recipes. Tips on growing. History. A great reference book but not the cover-to-cover all inclusive Tomato book I was hoping for.
10. You Suck: A love Story by Christopher Moore: Brain Candy. Irreverant. Fast. Enjoyable. Fluff. San Francisco.
11. For One More Day by Mitch Albom: my review.
12. Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie: Very educational on Chinese re-education.
13. A dirty Job by Christopher Moore: My review and this review, which is much better.
14. The Average American Male by Chad Kultgen.
15. The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult: a good graphic novel, with great artwork.
16. Vanishing Acts by Jodi Picoult
17. Founders At Work by Jessica Livingston
18. Everyday Zen: love and work by Charlotte Joko Beck: Life, as it is, is perfect. How annoying is that? And yet… how beautiful. I probably read this book every year. I just read one vignette every week or so. I've been doing that for years and I never stop learning from it. In fact... if I count it for 2006 then I just barely met my 25-book challenge.

As for 2008. Well, I'm at 0.5 for the moment. But, I only have 1 marathon planned instead of two. So perhaps I should shoot for 20 books? I think it's ambitious, but what the hell.

A Great Storm

You might have heard about the California storm that we've been experiencing. Torrential downpours. Winds so severe they closed the bay area bridges to avoid additional big-rigs from blowing over. A landslide on highway 17.

When I arrived home around 7:30 PM, the last few blocks of my drive were from another place and time. Instead of my pseudo-urban, busy, well-lit subdivision full of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations, I found myself driving in the country at night, unable to see anything except what my headlights illuminated. In addition to the blackness, when I got out of the car, it was beautifully silent (except for our neighbor's generator, but they have a newborn baby, so I was glad they were prepared). I wonder if that's what our neighborhood was like when it was first built.

Given the all-electric kitchen, we drove downtown, where they have power, and went out to a simple Italianesque dinner at a restaurant that used to be a regular in our rotation but somehow fell out. We remembered why we used to like it -- the food is good and there are simple options, the service is great, the specials were delicious, the owners are quirky (the head chef often sings opera while strolling through the restaurant), and the wine list is short, but well-selected and reasonably priced. We enjoyed a delicious, light Ventana Pinot Noir that they sell for around $38, which is very impressive given the retail price of $28.

After the big night on the town, we came home and lit candles to brighten the house and tone down the eerie glow of our flourescent lantern. We have a few decorative candles, but that's it, they are just decorative. The wicks are primarily unburnt. Until last night. Thanks to the storm, I realized that candles are nice, they give a soft glow to the room, and they smell good. They just feel relaxing.

And they make a nice relaxing side to a resounding round of scrabble that goes 'til midnight. (I lost. By one point. Apparently, Slavak is not a word.)

This storm was an excellent opportunity for me to work on my New Year's Resolution:

to be more calm and roll with the punches.

My sister and mother were *supposed* to visit this weekend (no travel due to the storm). Last night, I was *supposed* to come home and run on my treadmill (which requires power).

But hey, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy the dark neighborhood, the candles, or scrabble if things had gone as they were *supposed* to.

Now I just have to figure out how to roll with today's planned long run of 11 miles and the predicted thundershowers and I'll be in great shape.

Happy New Year!

I hope you spent the last bits of 2007 and the first bits of 2008 with those you love, or doing something you enjoy (or, ideally, both). E and I spent New Years Eve at G's house with friends, making and enjoying a 4-course meal that spanned two years.

We ended 2007 with an extremely labor intensive mushroom and ricotta stuffed pasta (a BT-invention of sorts), which, predictably, like all invented from scratch BT recipes, went a little wrong and needs to be done again, properly.

This time, the mistake I made was that I stacked all of the pasta pockets on the same plate in the hot steamy kitchen. They stuck together and the dough ripped when BC, who volunteered to help, started trying to boil them. I had to feed 8, so what else could I do, but admit failure and roll about half of them into mushroom pasta balls, which surprised me by maintaining their structural integrity when boiled.

My advice to you is to keep the pasta separated from each other at a minimum and ideally in the fridge or freezer until they are boiled, and remember that good ingredients will taste excellent even with structural failure. Also, for efficiency, remember to buy and use a pasta cutter to avoid hand-folding the pockets on all sides, and if you forget the pasta cutter, settle for knife-edge pasta. Finally, melted butter with chopped sage and porcini broth makes an excellent mushroom-stuffed pasta and mushroom-pasta-ball sauce, which gets even better when you top it with shaved parmigiano and truffle oil.

After course 1, we briefly left the table to toast the new year with each other and via Skype with our sister-party of G's siblings.

We started 2008 with a wonderful winter vegetable soup from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, which, when O announced where she found the recipe, all of the current and former vegetarians at the table chimed in to say it was their favorite cookbook. Carrots, potatoes, parsnips, onions, leaks, milk and more -- hearty and delicious. I may have to add the Deborah Madison cookbook to my wishlist, although, truth be told, I already have more recipes in my kitchen than I could cook in a lifetime.

What surprised me, however, was that the third course of fontina-basil-prosciutto-stuffed chicken seemed to beat out the pasta with the majority of the crowd. It's a favorite of E's that I hadn't made in years, that came to mind because O doesn't eat red meat and it can be easily modified for non-red meat eaters. I figured it would be good, but not as good as the mushroom decadence. Given everyone's delight with this offering, and the fact that it's relatively healthy and not very difficult, I think the best way to start the new year is to share it with you.

Fontina, basil, and prosciutto stuffed chicken

-1 chicken breast per person (I bought the fresh, pre-skinned, de-boned, free-range expensive chicken breasts and suspect that may explain why this was such a hit -- they were moist and flavorful)
-1 slice of proscuitto per 2 persons
-1 small slice of fontina per person (1.5 inch X 0.5 inch is fine)
-1/4 basket of cherry tomatoes per person, stemmed, rinsed, and halved
-1/4 shallot per person, minced
-2 basil leaves per person, chopped
-dash of chicken broth per person
-olive oil
-balsamic vinegar
-salt
-pepper

1. Preheat oven to 375F. Clean the breasts and pat dry. With a knife, on the wider side of the breast, slice a pocket into the breast ensuring that at least one side of the pocket (the bottom) stays intact.

2. Salt and pepper the inside of the pocket. Layer chopped basil, prosciutto, and fontina in the pocket and close so that nothing is showing (feel free to wrap the lower, thinner end of the breast up towards the top if the end of the pocket isn't sealed.

3. Salt and pepper the outside of the breast and lightly pound to flatten (but don't let the pocket contents peak out).

4. Place breast in the olive-oiled baking dish. Repeat steps 1-4 for each breast

5. Place dish in the oven and bake until done but not dry (no one likes dry chicken!), which will depend on the size of the breasts, but you can cut them open and check without anyone knowing because they will be topped with the sauce. Small breasts take about 15-20 minutes and larger ones, if stacked together, side-by-side in a pan will take about 22-25 minutes.

6. While the breasts are baking, sautee your minced shallot in olive oil. Add all leftover chopped basil and tomatoes and simmer for a minute or two. Add a douse of balsamic vinegar (once around the pan, quickly for 8 breasts) and a dash of chicken broth and cook for another few minutes until the sauce thickens. Remove the sauce from heat.

7. When the breasts are done, place them on a plate and top with the cherry tomatoes and sauce.

Serve immediately. Enjoy!

Art imitates life

And if so, you should be able to gleam tons about my life from the following combination of over-seriousness, ridiculous navel-gazing, and stupid over-dramatcized fun (with snakes!). Basically, the week after Christmas rocks as a lawyer in the bay area. Everyone slows down or just stops. Don't take it off work. Stay in town. *Work* (wink, wink). The few clients and partners who need you will be thankful. The one or two people whose asses you'll have to save will be *very* thankful (which is helpful for later vacations when you will need backup).

So, from the partial work void I've been enjoying these holidays, I present the most recent collection of Netflix and pop-culture I've experienced, in the last 7 days, in case you thought you knew me.

1. The Wii, with family, over Christmas.
2. The Simpsons: Old Yeller Belly.
3. Water, which E left me to watch on my own... it just wasn't his thing.
4. Secretary, which E left me to watch alone, and solidify my adoration for both James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhall.
5. Crimes and Misdemeanors -- E liked misdemeanors, but hated crimes. I liked it, but mainly because the best parts of it made me nostalgic for Manhattan and the worst parts were like watching a bad 70's or 80's gangster flick.
8. Mighty Aphrodite: Wow. It was like all the best parts of Crimes and Misdemeanors (namely, the misdemeanors) without the heavy over-indulgence of the crimes in reality. Instead, he acknowledged his ridiculousness and indulged it via greek theatre. Which, I have a ridiculous soft spot for, thanks to world drama at Cal with JayKay (Where we did nothing but laugh at the angsty theatre folks, lust after swimmer-ben, and amuse ourselves with our professor, who insisted on lunging instead of walking. Good Times.)
6. And, let us not forget tonight's masterpiece Snakes on a plane. You might think this went straight to video, and I wouldn't blame you for the assumption, but I must admit, I enjoyed watching it tonight (because I'm a sucker for over-the-top video) and part of the reason it made it home in the netflix queue is because R claimed the movie was fun. Of course, he's the kinda guy who woulda claimed that no matter what. But I enjoyed my modern day airplane blacksploitation spoof. So there...

So, yeah, if the list above confuses you, I agree. In fact, I encourage you to try being me and trying to find a platform for voting (and if you succeed, post a comment)...

Holiday Cheer

There are few things greater in the world than witnessing the joy of an almost-six-year-old realizing that Santa brought what she really wanted, even though she forgot to tell him.

I hope your holidays were/are wonderful this year. Mine were filled with joy and family.

I spent 4 days in a quirky condo overlooking beautiful Pismo beach with E and my brother, sister, and niece, plus our cousin who couch-surfed, and daily visits to and from the extended family throughout the region.

It's crazy to belong to such a large extended family. It's like you belong to a posse and you can't do anything solo. You wanna go get a quick dinner of delicious BBQ? Make a few phone calls, and the next thing you know, you and your family will take over the joint. When you take small family subgroups with you to restaurants, you still have to request two separate large tables to seat the entire group. When it's not the holidays, your uncle goes to the local county fair and meets relatives he didn't even know he had. And your aunt cancels the "cousins' only" bbq that had been planned because due to the required politesse, the bbq would have to be 200 local invitees of first, second, and third-degree family. Instead, we have a small get-together of 15.

All in all, I could not have asked for anything better: perfectly clear and weather in the 60s (F); two days of running alongside the Pacific Ocean; one day of beach yoga; four nights of listening to waves crashing from either the hottub or the balcony; and, of course, more delicious food and family laughter than I even thought was possible.

It was one of the best Christmas holidays I can remember.

Nevermore

I'm a very light sleeper and I have a very active dream life. Combine this with strange noises on the roof, and, well, I've concocted some odd theories.

For example, I swear that I've been woken several times on the night before garbage pickup by what sounds like a person walking on the roof.

Why garbage night?

Why would anyone be on our roof?

I don't know, but it freaks me out every damn time. So, inevitably, I wake up E and try to get him to be concerned about what is obviously a human walking on our roof as well.

For some reason, he never is. He generally tells me it's a possum and forgets that we had the conversation by morning.

So, there I was today, working from home, rushing to get everything done so I can take FOUR CONSECUTIVE DAYS OFF OF WORK!

And what do you know, I heard the mysterious roof-walker again. This time, I was awake, dressed, and ready to attack.

I ran outside and found myself greeted by friggin' animal planet. I kid you not...

As I left the front of the house, two black squirrels scampered down our apricot tree, skittering in squirrel at me as if to scold me for breaking up their party. Simultaneously, no less than 5 crows flew from the roof and alighted over my head to nearby trees, while several other big fat black crows observed my speedy entrance to the front yard from the grass and driveway with suspicion.

And, when I finally got to where I could see the roof, there, by the electrical tie-in, sat a solitary, very large, very wise raven, who just stared down at me with disdain.

WTF?

Ugggghhhh

I *hate* insomnia.

This morning's flavor (I almost always get it in the morning, it's just a question of whether it's very early or later) was the 5:30 AM kind. Not good. After laying in bed and tossing and turning and probably waking up E 'til around 6:30 AM, I had to admit that sleep was done.

Most things in my life are going quite well, but there's no pretending I'm not stressed when I can't sleep through the night. Tonight was the third or fourth night in a row I've woken up at some ridiculous hour and been unable to sleep.

The stress, for once, is primarily not from work, and instead from my family.

I'm very worried about my brother. I want to help him and be there for him but lately, for the last 8 days or so, he won't take or return my calls. It is very hard to respect an individual's right to live their own life when their choices seem self-destructive to themselves and hurtful to you.

But, that is what I must do. Because if I don't, I'm going to be unable to sleep. And that's not doing anyone any good.

I *don't* live on a fiscal year

My clients do, though. So they all have tons of crap they want to finish before 12/31/07.

Add some financial planning for E & me including some tax-related decisions that need to be done before 12/31/07, a trip to see the fam over the holidays, the early ramp-up speed training for the miami half marathon, and holiday social madness, and you've got...

Well, basically, you've got someone busting their ass to get all their work done in time to take the family holiday trip mixed with the foregoing.

The only thing I can offer from today is this:

You know you've been mistaken for (or become) a special kind of a loser when on his way out of the office on a Sunday night, one of the partners pokes his head in your office and informs you that you *should* take some of the leftover pizza ordered for his IPO team home to your poor husband for dinner. Because, goodness, we all know you certainly haven't had time to shop for food...

Part of me wanted to point out that I'd had dinner guests the night before. That I'd made bacon risotto with mustard glazed brussel sprouts followed by *perfect* chocolate soufflées (literally, perfect! I was thrilled!). And then, this morning, E2 and I had run-walked 4.5 miles and then did 1.5 hours of the most intense yoga I'd done in a while.

But no. The reality is, despite all efforts to make it appear to the contrary, I'm not balancing it all. I haven't been shopping since when my sister was here, and that was merely to buy ingredients for the brunch she was hosting. So, I laughed, and took the Mountain Mike's home, where E and I savored it before devouring the leftover soup from Wednesday and leaving the kitchen truly, truly bare.

That's how I roll.

Mixed Metaphors

When describing how a senior partner at your firm severely verbally abused a more junior partner at the opposing firm, it's best not to say this:


He totally chewed that guy a new asshole.


That is all.

Ahhh, the irony

So, after tossing and turning for about an hour, I finally admitted defeat and got up.

If I can't sleep due to insomnia, I might as well work.

Might as well, indeed.

Somehow, between handing the valet my keys last night and getting up this morning, my safeword lcd panel cracked.

No work and no sleep for me.

Body Worlds 2 (and the 3 million tasks of our weekend)

I never saw the first exhibition, but this weekend, a group including my sister, E, friends and I all went to the Tech Museum and toured the Body Worlds 2 exhibit.

It was fascinating, if you like that sort of thing, which I do. But, even if you don't, like lucky_girl, apparently, it stops totally grossing you out after 30 minutes or so.

E, of course, couldn't help but make jokes about being hungry, prosciutto, and cannibalism. Tasteless (excuse the pun)? Of course. But, really, did I expect anything less? Of course not. I love it when I can think the unspeakable jokes and he can say them.


Other than the plasticized dead folks, it was a fairly normal, if breathless, busy, and fun social weekend. In addition to the trip to San Jose, we went to a party at Morton's Union Square, stayed the night in SF at our new favorite quality:cost ratio SF hotel, had brunch with G & O at hip universal cafe (which had an odd L.A. vibe to it, a rarity in the people's republic of hipsterville San Francisco) enjoyed a wonderfully decadent dinner at my favorite restaurant with sister and her boy, and hosted a brunch for 5 guests (thanks to my sister for planning) before take-out mediterranean feast at our house with lucky_girl and hubby (take out so the girls could hold down the fort and deal with roto-rooter and the return after a three year hiatus of the great tree root insurgence while the men got food -- see, I'm flexible on gender roles).

Ahhh, busy holiday social madness. I love it. Love the 0.5 hours of work this weekend between 5 PM on Friday and 8 AM on Monday too!

Thankful

Rain is good.

California needs rain.

And the fact that the weather waited 'til after my marathon to start raining on a regular basis makes me feel like my Dad and Papa were pulling weather for me, yet again, all through training season.

I'm very much enjoying my week of lazy no-running easy yoga.

Not to mention having time to satisfy my leftover marathon appetite. I've hit both dim sum and french food for lunch this work week with co-workers. Mmmmmm...

Contentment

Waking before my alarm, in the dark, rested, my feet snuggled up against E's feet, and nothing but the sound of rain.

Marathon, the second

Approximately 12 minutes faster than last time. Not bad. I missed my goal of 4:00 by about 5 minutes, but it's close enough that I'm proud. Now, I'm sore. Tired. And finding it very difficult to motivate for the work I should do before Monday morning.

One of the partners I work for used to be an amazing runner (think sub-4 minute miles). Now, his knees are shot. Monday mornings, he stops by to live vicariously through my long runs. Last Friday evening, he told me he'd like something I'm working on by Monday AM. I told him, okay, but it's gonna be late Sunday at the earliest, this weekend is my marathon.

Oh, I forgot. Good luck. Don't worry about it. Monday by early afternoon is fine.

At the time, I thought, no it's not. Because then I won't have Monday AM to do my other work. But now, when I'm sore and tired and relaxed like only an 18-week build up to a successful and whole-body-brutalizing workout can make you, I think I'm gonna take him up on it.

Instead, I'll spend some time fixing the details of the story in my memory so I can recount it properly for him. I'll deal with the work that won't get done tomorrow night. Not tonight. The night after a marathon is for lounging and moving slow.

So, if the best part about last marathon (besides just finishing it) was the fun of imagining conversations with my friends and family, the best part about this marathon was seeing family and friends over the weekend and having them come out to support me. In addition to the marathon, I baked Christmas cookies with my niece, mom and sister, and my brother, neice, mom, step-dad, E and I went out for a pre-race meal of mexican food (mmm...pre-race soup, chips, and lots of water, I swear by it).

I spent Saturday morning racing the Amtrak towards my hometown with E2 after we missed our train (long story), which we finally caught in Martinez. I only managed to do 1 hour of work on the train instead of the planned for 3. I think that may be a theme for this weekend. She came along to run some errands, to see her family, and to support me by running the last 6 miles with me (which, it turned out, I desperately needed). We even stayed with her parents and E2's mom woke at 6 AM to drive me to the start, which was so close to their house that you could hear the starting announcements.

A minute or so after the start, I saw B (who finished in a speedy 3:45!) and ran the first mile with her, as we caught up and wished each other well. Due to the ridiculous pace she planned to keep, I had to slow, but I was too motivated by the crowds and after a few miles figured I could just tuck into the 3:50 pace group. [NOTE: WHEN THEY SAY THAT GOING OUT TOO HARD IS A GOOD WAY TO ENSURE YOU WILL HIT THE WALL, THEY ARE NOT KIDDING].

Unlike my first marathon, which was a very focused, personal, solitary activity, I was fairly unfocused for the first part of this race. I let the crowds, my fellow runners, the music, and the scenery distract me. I smiled quite a bit.

I crossed the half marathon clock and realized I was going much too fast. In fact, if I didn't slow down, I was going to beat E2 to the 20 mile marker where she was supposedly going to meet me to help out with the last 6. So, I finally started to slow as I should have much earlier.

Around mile 15, I started counting off the miles. 5 miles 'til E2. 4 miles 'til E2. 3 miles... and then, she was there, at the intersection, just as she said she would be. Unfortunately, I was just ahead of the 4:00 group a little faster than I said I would be, but I was exhausted, and there were 6 miles to go.

I told her, "You keep up with them (the 4 hour pace group), and I'll keep up with you." That worked for a couple of miles. But then, I really hit the wall. Despite the gu and gu H20, despite the sliced and peeled oranges, and despite the crowd support, I had to walk. I sat for a minute and removed my sweat pants (which, surprisingly, I was happy to leave on for the first 22 miles or so -- it was *cold*).

And then, I relied on E2's will to pull me the next 3 miles or so. She laughed and told jokes and entertained me. She felt guilty when spectators yelled, "looking good ladies!" She yelled to the folks in the bar who were partying and cheering us on. She pointed out amusing things, like the runner who yelled at the guy who was smoking on the corner.

And finally, around mile 25, I found some energy of my own. Good thing too, since E2 had to peel off at the end. I passed B and B2 near mile 26, she was covered in her mylar blanket but had come back out to the course to cheer me on. I turned the corner before the finish and E and my sister were there, just a foot or two away yelling and taking my picture. Just after crossing the finish, E2 smiled from the side, saying, "I almost missed you, but I made it." And then, my mom was there too!

Ordinarily, running is something I do to stay sane. To keep healthy. Something I do entirely for myself unless I'm supporting a friend in their runs. But today, it was something I got to do while supported by those I love. It was a wonderful feeling.

And next time, I'm gonna be true to my goal pace from the start.

So They Do Have A Line

I'm a very private person, by nature. I understand that the only person you can truly trust to keep a secret is yourself.

Some of us are lucky enough to have friends who will keep our secrets as if they were their own. And we should be very, very, thankful.

But, from my perspective, the profound respect for and tight-lipped silence in response to one's desire to share with one and only one person, particularly if that person is not a permanent monogamous significant other, is rare.

So, if you are me, you can imagine how weird the larger soul-bearing aspect of the social networking phenomenon is. I've read articles that have said that the difference between today's youth and my generation is that today's youth understands that the concept of privacy is a myth and thus they bare everything and anything for all to see on the Internet. After all, the sheer volume of information should obscure it (unless, of course, the search algorithms keep getting smarter...)

Today, it seems, there is at least a partial line to the lack of privacy. Some of the users of Facebook stood up to the platform and said, "Stop Using My Information In A Way I Don't Like." And good for them.

Reading about it makes me smile. It's very weird. In more than one way, Facebook is like a government regulating a sovereign nation with a representative democracy populus: the majority is too busy gossiping, shopping, and posting drunken pictures of themselves to be political, but there is a minority who pick fights, and thanks to them, the whole is better.

7 Things you don't know about me

Like Beanie, who tagged me, I too try to be a relatively anonymous blogger.

But, there are plenty of people who read this who know me in the meatworld, too. Many of them probably know me better than I know myself. In fact, because some of my close friends and family read this, I'm not totally sure I could come up with 7 things that none of my readers knew about me.

So, I present 7 things about me that the readers most don't know and those who know me in real life *may* not know.

1. I want a dog as a pet even though I'm severely allergic to them and do not have the time or proper space to care for one.

2. I have a ridiculous maternal instinct. When children cry, I want to comfort them so much that it hurts.

3. I went through a several year phase where I didn't like to eat white creamy food. No mayonnaise, no milk, no white sauce, no yogurt, no ranch dressing, no egg-based custards. I have recovered on all counts except the mayonnaise and the ranch dressing, which I still do my best to avoid.

4. I love reptiles.

5. I generally don't eat sweet fruits. You know, the things everyone thinks of when they think of fruit: apples, bananas, apricots, peaches, oranges, pears, berries, cherries. I just don't like 'em that much, although on occasion, they are fabulous. But, my favorite foods almost all include unsweet fruits like eggplant, zucchini, peppers, squash, tomatoes, cucumbers, etc.

6. I can not be trusted to keep my own keys.

7. The women in my family all get an Eblskiver pan as a gift at some point. Wherever we are, we make Ebleskivers for Christmas and Thanksgiving breakfast.

And with that, I tag JayKay.

Leave the Big Bag at home

We're back.

We just rolled (literally, think elephant seals) back into the house after another one of our gluttonous holiday trips to the South to spend time with E's friends and family.

If there's one thing we learned this trip, it's this: don't use the huge over-sized luggage that allows you to pack 3 bottles of wine plus clothes for two for a week. It'll just cost you in the end. As in, hand over a surprise $50 (okay, not so surprise if you've paid it once before, but still) if your bag is over 50 lb. We were a healthy 64 lbs.

There was nothing we could do, so we paid $50 in over-weight fees after requiring the gate agent to confirm that yes, if we packed two bags, both would have been well under the 50 lb. limit but the plane would be heavier due to the additional luggage. The confirmation didn't provide much comfort.

On our return flight, we were lighter thanks to the consumption and enjoyment of the Ariston Fils and 2 bottles of Per Bacco Chardonnay. But, to be safe, we put about 10 lbs into a throw-away piece of luggage from E's parents that hadn't been used since the 80s. Both the duck-taped throw-away and the large luggage will be going to Good Will very soon.

In other not-so-news, we ate and drank too well.

The first evening (after E's mom's homemade lunch of open-faced prosciuttto, gorgonzola, violet, and honey sandwiches) we started the true debauchery with cheese and a Cotes du Rhone that was a favorite of E's dad. From there, we crashed E's sister and her man's dinner plans and enjoyed a fabulous dinner for six at Food Studio. Predictably, E, the reason we were subscribed to the bacon of the month club, started this culinary trip to the South with a dinner of pork belly, while I enjoyed my parsnip soup and salmon. With our appetizers, we laughed and caught up over a bottle of Roederer Estate. And, with dinner, we enjoyed a botttle of 2002 Bien Nacido Pinot Noir from Testarossa, a gift we'd given to E's dad several years ago. It had aged to perfection -- cherry notes but the fruit had mellowed to a warm, comfortable, light acid, and the oak contributed a long finish without excess vanilla, which was wonderful to enjoy with family, over good food. And, of course, like almost every meal this trip, although we were full, we all opted in to dessert.

This general theme of overindulgence continued for the next few days with interruptions only for important events such as a three-extended-family Thanksgiving extravaganza (which was so much more than simple overindulgence) and a trip to waffle house (which was required).

One meal of note: we were lucky enough to return to Bacchanalia with E's best man and wife for our second perfectly executed meal there. The food was just as sublime as I recalled from our last visit, with excellent combinations and contrasts of seasonal and local flavors as well as innovative palate cleansers (watermellon smoothie!).

If possible, the service was even better than last time. The cheese plate execution had improved (a feat I would have thought impossible) with the addition of a slice of a tree as a plate, which has been pre-loaded with artisanal honey, olives, marmalade, and bread. This allows you to focus on selecting your four cheeses from the tray (which, after the wine pairing and sensory overload of the grougeres, and two full courses with palate cleansers, is a difficult enough decision on its own). At $72 for four courses ($10 supplement for cheese, $115 with wine pairing), this restaurant easily competes with and outdoes many well-recognized and michelin-stared San Francisco restaurants, some of which charge double. In short, it is an amazing value for well-executed, prix-fixe, haute cuisine and I encourage you to visit before the market economy does its thing.

Oh, and they had a course with pork belly (although the portion was significantly smaller and more reasonable than food studio), so E smiled his way through pork belly meal number two on our fourth day.

It's good to be home. I look forward to a week of vegetarian healthful meals, yoga, and mellow taper runs before the marathon next weekend.

Better than fast food

E is traveling for work tonight. I tried to talk a colleague from work into going out for dinner, but she stayed to work... very dedicated, she is.

So, for the first time in a long, long, time I found myself cooking for one tonight. On the way home, I considered stopping at subway, but I got lost in thought and then I was at the driveway, and, well... yeah.

So, I made a dinner that I'd never make for my husband. Or, I wouldn't have until tonight. I surprised myself with it's tastiness, since I was fairly certain it was going to be merely consumable. Wonders never cease.

*Really* clean out the pantry/fridge dinner for one

-2 T butter
-1 small can sliced carrots, at least 1 year old
-1 small can green peas, at least 1 year old
-1/4 yellow onion, diced
-2 cloves garlic minced
-1/2 bunch fresh dill, removed from stems
-1/2 bunch fresh parsely, removed from stems
-cayenne pepper

1. In a small frying pan, melt butter over medium heat until it barely starts to foam, add garlic for 1-2 minutes 'til golden-brown.

2. Add onion and stir for 1 minute.

3. Add carrots & peas, stir for 3-4 minutes.

4. Remove from heat, add parsely, dill, and sprinkle with cayenne to taste.

5. Enjoy the surprisingly tasty, cheap, and easy dinner for one. You doubt it, because I did, but it's actually better than fast food. And when you're solo for the night... why not?



Yeah. I know. Without E, I'd be a different woman. There were 10 minutes of singing and dancing in the kitchen tonight when I was supposed to be doing dishes. Hilarious -- it was like friday night dance without your pants with JayKay, only it's not friday, and I was wearing pants, and JayKay wasn't there, and there was no music... you get the picture? I'm nutso. Certifiable. And I need to get back to my diligence. But I swear, I'm not procrastinating...

Ahhhh...

There are few things in the world that feel better than a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep after several nights of nightmares and insomnia.

Yay!

A very full day

Yesterday, by 11:20 AM I'd finished the twenty mile round-trip from bayfront park in Menlo Park to the Newark Slough and back. The view South from the top of the Dumbarton Bridge is gorgeous (even if the weather is preparing to rain and you can't see very far) because the sunlight on the water in the middle of the former Dumbarton cutoff train bridge is very picturesque. The other major plus of this route is there are only two stoplights on the entire route (Willow and University). The rest is pure, uninterrupted bay trail of various quality. The biggest drawback is that about 2.5 miles from the east bay touch down of the bridge to the Newark Slough is on a very poorly paved and severely crowned road. But, there's not much traffic at all, so you can just run in the middle of the road. Even doing that, I blame this section of the run for my shin soreness for the first time during the entire marathon training.

The rest of the day was all about E, as he was the birthday boy:

-Brunch at the Diner (with bacon).

-Bowling, with drinks, Big Lebowski references, and a few of his friends. (I must admit, I did request that the television screen at the end of the lane be turned to the Cal game. But *other* than that, the rest of the day was all about E. And some newlyweds, but more on that later.)

-Presents: a chocolate bacon bar, green tea mochi ice cream, 2 bottles of good Scotch, one bottle of good tequila, homemade chocolate chip cookies, a bowling pin signed by the crew, a shampoo and a brush from RD, and a hairnet.

-The random rescheduled dinner of a chinese banquet in the world's most wacky deserted mall, wherein we found ourselves in the midst of approximately 3 weddings with music, toasts, and everything. We were *that* table. The most culinarily unique experience? The fried silver fish with salt and pepper -- the fish are bitter and you can see each of their eyes, looking at you.

-Finally, we retired to our house where we watched the Big Lebowski and sampled some of the liquors.

I went to bed at 2 AM, which, given my recent bedtime average of 10:45 PM or so, is worth mentioning as something out of the ordinary. Man, I'm old.

Tomorrow's 20-miler

Well, folks, tomorrow is the last long run before I start to taper for my second marathon.

Training for this marathon has been less disciplined than the last one. I know I can finish, so I just don't have the fear I had last time. But, I would like to improve and so I have tried to train slightly harder this time. Key word, slightly.

I've definitely trained differently this time around. My first long run for training was a bike race with E. I've run 4 races as long training runs, including last weekend's half marathon, which is only 1 month away from the marathon. And, after tomorrow, I will have done two 20-mile runs before this race instead of just one. Two weeks ago, I did the first twenty-mile jaunt as an out and back in San Jose with B (until she ditched me, that is! Speedy that B is!).

Overall, I think I've done more intense training this time, but I've been less consistent about keeping a solid pace than last time around. Last time, I was the slow and steady turtle who ever so slowly inched their comfortable speed for long distances up the grid. This time, I've pushed myself to go hard or fast on longer races and paid for it afterwards with some seriously slow recovery runs.

When I look at the data, I see that I ended up running my first marathon at a pace that was only 3 seconds faster than the pace I kept on the 20 mile run. This time, my first 20 mile run was even slower than the one I did before the last marathon. So, I guess tomorrow is decision day. I'll be up early, pushing myself to keep a difficult pace on a course that I've never done: across the Dumbarton bridge.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, given how tired I feel, I suspect it's not gonna be pretty.

The art in spam

Occasionally, your spam filter is probably saving you from something you'd enjoy. I dare you not to find this entertaining and an interesting mirror of a section of our society (in short, I find it artful):


That's great you've found a lass that's hot
You wanna hump her moistened twat.
She's so attractive, she's so nice!
But would your penile size suffice?
Not sure she will yearn for more?
You need a wang she would adore!
But how to get it long and thick?
Your only chance is MegaDik!
You'll get so wanted super-size
And see great pleasure in her eyes!
Your shaft will pound her pink so deep,
Tonight you'll hardly fall asleep!
So try today this wonder-pi'll
And change your life at your own will!


That is all.

Truth

I live in a professional world where certainties are sought and rewarded and relied upon. And I like them. I really do. I sought this profession and find myself comfortable here for a reason.

So why did I feel so weird tonight, discussing the wishy-washy-ness of what may or may not be my cultural heritage with R (see the last post for more)?

I'm not sure. I think because she asked good questions. They were questions I would have answered if my cultural heritage was work-related in the least bit. I'd know the answer before she asked. Or I'd have an answer that I thought was the best one given the constraints.

But, for some reason, when it comes to my familial cultural history, it almost seems more honest to admit that I can't know. I no longer have access to those who do, and to pretend that their loss is insignificant is wrong, so I try to preserve the mystery and appreciate it for what it is -- a wonderful, story-worthy gift.

Wayward Thoughts

I just can't focus. I've got a 10-page contract I should edit and get to a partner tonight. 10 measly pages. Simple. But I can't do it because I know I can wake early and do it tomorrow before the deadline really looms dangerous.

Also, my brain is flitting between the amazing and interesting observations about culture from Arvay on American Food and lucky_girl on Japanese gratitude.

I've spent quite a bit of time in the last 5 years thinking about identity and culture and food. In particular, I'm fascinated by the role that culture plays in forming an individual's identity, even when they try to rebel against it. Arvay's comment that all Americans bring a bit of the old country with them is very true, in my case.

Take, for example, my family.

I have several branches of ancestors who immigrated to California in the mid-1800's. I'm a big walking melting pot due to the many branches that feed my genetic tree and have always thought of myself of stereotypically American. I was told my great-grandma Erma was Swiss. I never really thought much of it. I remember my gran telling me that she was portuguese, german, swiss, french and british and her making me repeat it. When I asked the other grandparents, it was a similar story of multiple ethnicities (except for Grandma Mary, who suprised the hell out of my mom and me with the revelation that she was 1/2 Cherokee and 1/2 french when I did my 4th grade geneology project -- boy was Mom surprised...Native American, who knew?)

At some point in my 20's, after a visit or two and an exposure to the language, I fell in love with Italy. At some point later, I fell in love with E, a boy of Italian decent. Oddly, it was one of the few enthnicities that, despite a large immigration history in the US, I didn't have a grandparent claiming. After being laid off in 2000, while E was still employed, despite no apparent genetic or cultural connection, I thought the best thing I could do with my time was to go to Italy and study Italian.

My Papa, of the Swiss side of the family, when he found out I was going to Italy to study instead of getting a new job after the burst of the first tech bubble, said, and, I quote, "Why do you wanna go learn WOP?"

I was appalled and amused. How old he was. How little insult he intended and how much curiosity he had. And yet, how harsh it sounded. I explained. He, like the farmer of few words that he was, said, "huh." And that was that. I sent postcards and we never spoke of it again. But every postcard with a picture of whatever Italian village I was visiting at the time was displayed on the olive green fridge at the ranch with pride until his death. And they were stained with farmer fingerprints that showed that he took them down, he showed them off, and he put them back up. I took more comfort in those silent dirty marks than I could in anything he'd ever say to me. I know that he loved me more than he could ever say from those marks and my percentage of the fridge space.

Within a year after my return from my jaunt in Italy, my Papa had an 80th birthday. There, I met many of my Papa's cousins. The Manetti brothers, the Polettis, the Perozzis... and, shockingly, I was able to communicate with several of my visiting cousins who spoke Italian. Sure, they insisted on calling it Swiss, but I could fully comprehend everything they said as if it were perfect Romani.

I remember being shocked at the realization that it was very likely that my Swiss ancestors were likely Italian and managed to lie to get around the over-subscribed quotas of the late 1800's. I remember thinking that it was amazing that their self-indoctrination against embracing their Italian heritage was so strong that my Dad never considered that his grandmother's Swiss phone conversations sounded much like the Italian he'd heard elsewhere. Or that my Papa, my father's father, didn't know that if I learned WOP, I might be able to speak with his cousins in their native dialect.

But what I hadn't really considered until today, reading Arvay's post about food followed by lucky_girl's post about Japan was the oddly foreign comfort of my time in Italy.

Many people *love* Italy.

But for me, my last visit was like a homecoming of sorts. I just felt as if I belonged in a way that felt wonderful. Strangers would insist that they could see my Sangue Italiani despite my insistance that no, I didn't have any Italian blood. I'd try to say things in this new foreign language and magically, the syllables would roll off my tongue easier than any other language I had ever fallen in love with. Strangers would say things that were oddly constructed, and yet, I immediately saw the beauty in the way they said it and appreciated the gorgeous message of their words.

The men, in their stubborness, their romanticism, their over-exuberance, their exaggeration, and their specific blend of machoism, often reminded me of my father and brother and grandfather and uncles. The food would comfort me (this is probably true for many people). And the frustrations of the day to day life -- they just seemed to be true and unavoidable. Frustrating, yes. But things to endure.

I think, in many ways, I returned from my last and longest, most immersive, trip to Italy able to understand and forgive my father and his family for many of their oddities that I couldn't understand before I went. I was closer to them through their homeland or the homeland of their ancestors, which, for reasons of history or politics, or confusion, they didn't even know belonged to them.

That some not insignificant portion of my identity and my conception of normal is formed by a country I never visited before the age of 19, and that I have maybe spent a total of 3.5 months in, blows my mind.

And yet, if I am honest. It is true.

It is so true, that, unbeknownst to me, despite being raised in a household where no overt effort was made to connect me or teach me to avoid my Italian-based heritage I still sought out my roots in language, in food, in travel and in my husband. Granted, California has a huge influence from Italian culture and no doubt that plays a large role in my decision.

But still, I think it's fascinating and I want to think about it.

And that's why I can't work on my 10-page partnering deal right now.

I heart fall DST

I love waking up to sunshine!

My attitude is easily 40% better than last Monday, all due to the feeling that all is right with the natural world order and I don't have to get up when it's dark.

Friday Night Par-tay

One of the biggest bummers about training for a marathon is how much additional sleep you need in the heavy mileage weeks before taper. When you combine last Sunday's 20-miler with mid-week runs of 5 miles and 9 miles, a Halloween get-together one night, and a late night party to celebrate the sale of one of my clients the next, well, let's just say there was no disco ball last night.

I was home by 6 PM. I finished making what E proclaimed the best risotto ever made by 7:30 and we had eaten the entire pan by 8 PM. Immediately, I got horizontal on the couch with reading to deal with the expansion of rice in my stomach -- turns out, there is such a thing as risotto that tastes too good! I had eaten entirely too much (as had E).

By 9 PM, I finally started to recover from the stomach stretching, so I fell asleep, for the second time this week with reading material on my stomach while I lay on the couch under my reading lamp.

E prodded me to bed at 9:30 when it became apparent that my promise to watch a movie with him was quite empty.

I woke this AM at 8:30, rested for the first morning in quite some time.

This undeniable need for sleep is making me seriously reconsider my desire to run a marathon on our next big trip. It takes so much time out of life just to do the required running to train for a marathon. But when you add the required sleep, that's when things really start to have to take a hit.

Of course, it's really only a couple of weeks of the super-long mileage and additional sleep. And they are hard to remember when you cross the finish line.

Today, on my leisurely slow 5 mile run, I remembered the fun of just running to run. Much of the training for a marathon adds a level of discipline that removes some of the joy of just running to run. On the other hand, the discipline often forces me out on my feet to experience joy that I otherwise may have skipped.

In short, I'm reserving my commitment to the race I'd planned for next April 'til after my next Marathon.

I'm gonna be a lawyer for halloween

Today, I had a lawyers' lunch of dim sum goodness with 2 other women from law school. After our first year as lawyers, it was pleasant to finally meet up after 6 months of scheduling and hear that we are all doing well in our careers and relatively happy with the decisions we've made.

Anecdotally, I hear that's not the norm for women in their second year of practice in BigLaw. And yet, there we are. We're all happy and we feel lucky.

J travels every other week and lives from 4-star hotels. She travels for pleasure on the weekends between traveling for work. She's taking depositions solo and having a ball. I admire what she's doing but I would be miserable with the demands on my time and the constant time away from home.

T is a completely different story. She never travels. She wishes she did, just a little bit, but other than that, she likes her practice. She loves the control she has over how she gets her job done. She already is being aggressively head-hunted by firms that compete with hers and clearly is on a path for success. But, I think I'd pull out my eyeballs if I had her job because the content she looks at every day just isn't interesting to me.

And then there's me. I do tedious things like review contracts as diligence projects where it's binders upon binders of deals. I look for comma placement. I also advise small start-ups on how to structure their business to increase the value of their IP and avoid the typical pitfalls. Believe it or not, I have fun with the big picture deal structure and client counseling but I also love the tedium of comma placement, liability limitations, warranty disclaimers, and just the general logic puzzle of the world of contracts.

I think the thing we all have in common is that we love the type of law we practice. None of us is thrilled with the lawyer lifestyle. We all wish we could have a little more time and balance. But, we all enjoy the things we do for hours upon hours each week. And, it doesn't hurt that none of us work in environments where assholes run the show. That probably means quite a bit as well.

Evolution

BEA is now the second ex-employer of mine to be put to on its deathbed by a combination of its biggest shareholders working in conjunction with Larry Ellison.

Add a start-up that gave its money back to the investors in 2002 and the sole proprietorship consulting service I briefly ran before shutting operations to take a full-time gig at the other prior employer to be destroyed by Larry and pals.

What do you know, other than the law firm, the only full-time employer I've had since college who is still in a positive trajectory is a small boutique consulting firm that hired me while I was still a student and kept me on full-time after graduation.

Things move very quickly in the valley.

Eggsellent Resource

If you are a food nerd, and you love eggs, then you should check out the American Egg Board's eggcyclopedia. (Arvay, I know you love this!)

For example, today I wanted to know how reliable the sell-by dates on egg cartons were because we have two eggs that are fairly old and I wasn't sure I could use 'em for breakfast.

Turns out, there is a 3 digit number on your egg carton that is the pack date. It is the number of the day of the year when your eggs were packed out of 365 (or 366 in leap year, I would assume). If you are lazy, you can use a date calculator and plug in 1/1/07 and the number to figure out what the pack date is on the gregorian calendar.

The eggcyclopedia says that eggs, stored properly, should stay fresh 4 to 5 weeks from the pack date. Guess we'll be going out for brunch.

(As an aside, I've never met a food nerd who didn't love eggs. In fact, I used to not like them, but my love for them has been growing roughly in proportion to my food nerdiness. Souflées, breads, sauce thickeners, soups -- they are just so versatile. Plus, according to folklore, the one hundred folds on a properly trained chef's hat are supposed to represent the 100 ways they know how to prepare an egg. How cool is that?)

Working for Myself

I have to work today. It's Saturday.

As short a time ago as 5 weeks I lived in a world where this was expected and normal. But, as the passage of a short time will do, that life seems far away and now I think it's normal not to have to work on the weekends.

This morning, I woke around 8 AM without an alarm. I was out of my bed and dressed to work-out by 8:30. Now, I'm at my desk, leisurely sifting through mail and getting settled.

I'll be working on the contract I have to turn by 9 AM.

So, basically, I'm starting my Saturday at work roughly around when I start my work-week days at work.

Only I feel so much more relaxed. It *feels* like Saturday. It *feels* like I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, and that I'm *choosing* to work. Granted, I am waiting for my treadmill to be delivered and when it arrives, I may opt to use it in the middle of working on my contract. But technically, I always have the choice to restructure my day.

Oddly, this means that I will enjoy working today more than I enjoy working during the week. I remember feeling this Saturday feeling about all the work I had to do for school. I remember feeling this way about running my own business. I even remember feeling this way about various engineering and tech writing jobs I held, at times.

But, there have been other times in my career when I felt pinned down, working for someone else and not myself, and uncomfortable with the lack of control and freedom I had in my performance of the work. Often, I grew out of that feeling as I became more comfortable with how people perceived me and my work, so I felt that it was appropriate to take more liberties with working from home and doing my job for myself, not them.

I'm much more comfortable at the law firm after a full year there. (CAN YOU BELIEVE I'VE BEEN A LAWYER FOR OVER A YEAR?) But I still don't have the feeling of control that I've had at all of my favorite jobs. I wonder if I'll ever have it, or, if the structure of the law firm and billable hours means that it is impossible.

I am more than willing to put up with some short-term discomfort in exchange for the great training and experience I'm getting.

But, this morning's excitement to work solidified it for me: I want my ultimate career, that undefined thing I'm working towards, which I will find myself doing at the very end, to feel like Saturday work every day I'm working.

Onward.

Way... Wha???

I was on the call with our partner and then, out of nowhere, the VP of engineering walks into the room in a Fatsuit.

I thought I had a weird day. But after discussing it, we agreed, E's was weirder.

Halloween is on its way, apparently.

Comfort, all around

After a couple of months of much weekend travel and general hecticness, this weekend was a welcome change. We only spent one night away from home, and it was in San Francisco, attending the wedding of a family friend where we had a blast hanging out in a mansion and eating miniature food with brother, sister, and mom and D. The after party was a bit over the top, and even though we were quite the sticks-in-the-mud by comparison and left at 2 AM, this morning was still slow and difficult. Thank goodness for the healing power of Crèpes-a-Go-Go (mmm...nutella strawberry crèpe...).

The next several weekends promise to be even more mellow. In fact, starting tonight, we have twenty-seven nights in a row where we'll be sleeping at home, in our own bed, together.

This means I have time for some comforting lifestyle changes. I'll be doing more shopping for fresh ingredients since I'll have time to use them, there will be more cooking and less eating out, and, after my treadmill arrives (next Saturday! Woo Hoo!), I won't miss any more training runs on my marathon training schedule due to weather and work, which should decrease my stress levels even more. Also, I'm holding out hope that the list of home chores may actually see more things scratched off than added for the first time in a long time.

In celebration of the coming calm, I present tonight's very comforting dinner. Per the norm as of late, there was not enough fresh food available in the house to construct a proper meal from scratch. So, here is the latest in my "use whatever's in the pantry and freezer soup" series. It was surprisingly filling, healthy, and delicious.

SPAGGHETTI-O'S FOR ADULTS

-1/2 box farfalline (any small pasta will do)
-2 cans condensed tomato soup
-1 small bag frozen chopped broccoli
-italian spices
-chili garlic paste
-hard cheese for grating
-extra virgin olive oil

1. bring approximately 4 cups water to a boil. Add the pasta and boil with a drizzling of olive oil over the top of the water until the pasta is almost al dente.
2. Add both cans of condensed soup to the water and pasta and bring to a simmer.
3. Add spices and chili garlic paste to taste.
4. Add broccolli and remove from heat. Stir for 5 minutes until brocolli is bright green.
5. Ladle into bowls and serve with grated cheese over the top.

Mmmmm...warm, hearty, and healthy. Enjoy!

Jargon Help

So, for those of you who've heard these terms and don't know what they mean, be happy. No one *really* knows what these terms mean. Anyone who claims to is lying because they aren't well-defined terms.

After too many interactions with them, I thought I'd give my favorite examples:

The best of web 2.0:

Is it Christmas? (There's an RSS feed).

The best of web 1.0:

Just Fucking Google it.

And the best of Web 3.0?

Yeah. When I figure out what it represents I'll add a sarcastic example of this one too.

Also, I'm aware that I'm making fun of the valley but I'm also aware that I live in the middle of this ecosystem and it supports me, pays my bills, brings me joy, and more-or-less defines my professional existence. Let me just admit that I'm now home from a weeknight "party" where I ate and drank for free while taking a tour of a data center and schmoozing, and I even (*gasp of embarassment*) handed out a few cards.

I live here. This is my life.

But really? It is a bit silly when we have to start assigning numbers? Non?

Slowing Down

After my fourth weekend in a row traveling to a gorgeous race or long run, and a wonderful weekend of hanging out with R and accompanying her on her first half marathon, I'm just exhausted. (For those looking for a beautiful, flat, run along the beach where the organizers give out lots of good schwag, I highly recommend the long beach half or full marathon. The crowd support was less than some races I've run, but it was a very well run race. If you do go, do NOT stay at the Coast Hotel Long Beach, it has walls that magically amplify every nighttime noise so that you will get no sleep the night before the race.)

Friday, I stayed up with E 'til 2 AM, finally getting in some quality time for the first time last week. Unfortunately, I had to wake at 6 AM to get to my flight. Saturday, thanks to the aforementioned hotel from hell, the people in the next room over who spoke in some moon language at approximately the level of a rock concert until midnight and then again starting at 5 AM, and the party in the room above us who threw beer bottles on the ground in front of our room, I woke at least once every hour from 11 PM 'til 5:45 AM. Last night, I put myself to bed at 11 PM despite many things left undone. And, I was still very grumpy at my alarm at 6 AM.

But, I had to get up because I have work that must be done before a 9 AM call and I've got a run to fit in. After all, it's not raining, and I can't look gift weather in the mouth (or however that metaphor would go for weather). And, of course, now that I'm up and annoyed, instead of working, I'm blogging, which makes perfect sense...

Lately, I hate mornings during the week. I detest that I can't just stay in bed with E and sleep in until I'm fully rested. On the weekends, in contrast, I have no difficulty jumping out of bed to go for a long run in the dark, even if it perpetuates the sleep deprivation cycle.

Clearly, subconsciously, something inside of me knows that even though I'm not crazy busy anymore, and I'm just normal lawyer busy, which I enjoy, my job is different from pure pleasure activities and finds it very difficult to cheat my body of sleep to appease work, even when the reason for early waking is the combination of work and running or social obligations for the day.

I'm very much looking forward to this weekend where we're only in San Francisco for one night for a wedding and then the next weekend, where we're home for both nights, and together, with no plans with anyone else for the first time in 2 months.

I think I'm going to have to buy a treadmill

This AM's rain and work surprises mean that I am 12 miles short for the week as of right now.

I'll probably try to hit a gym today after work, so that I'll only be 4 miles short by the time the week ends. This will mean I will get home late on the one night this week I'm supposed to hang out with E without distractions.

If I could just go to the garage and bust out my miles any time it was raining, or, better yet, when I got home from work and it was too dark to run safely, I suspect I'd be much better about maintaining my mileage, and, I probably wouldn't feel so frustrated with the effort of balancing my life.

Cheater Bolognese

True Bolognese sauce, like most delicious Italian meals, requires at least a day of effort. And it is worth it.

But, for those of us who wish to experience close to the truth for significantly less than a day's effort there are many options.

For example, tonight, E2 and J came for dinner. Like the good lawyer and bad wife that I've been lately, we had nothing to feed guests for dinner. So, we dug into the freezer and defrosted the second half of the frozen gnocchi and we served it with a make-shift bolognese composed of ingredients purchased 2 hours prior to serving alongside blanched asparagus spears. It was quick, easy, and delicious. Amazingly quick, easy, and delicious, if I'm honest. In fact, I often avoid meals of this nature when they might be easier than others for which I opt (Granted, the true effort for the gnocchi had been completed, and we were living off of that glory, but with boxed penne, the sauce still would have been excellent.)

Short-cut faux-bolognese

-1.25 lb lean ground sirloin
-1/2 large yellow onion, chopped
-3 to 8 cloves of garlic, minced
-2 T butter
-oregano
-dried parsely
-cayenne pepper
-dried chili flakes
-mustard powder
-sea salt
-1 large can stewed tomatoes
-3 small flavorful fall tomatoes from your plant, sliced (okay, so this ingredient is probably unnecessary)
-dried basil (or the real thing, but if so, don't add it 'til the end)
-hard but medium-aged cheese for ribbon grating

1. In a large saucepan or pot, melt the butter and sautée the onions and garlic until clear and fragrant.
2. Add the meat. Stir and cut with the stirring implement until evenly browing.
3. Add spices as you like (we chose oregano, basil, dried parsely, cayenne, dried red pepper, & mustard powder). Stir until evenly absorbed.
4. Add tomatoes, stir and simmer.
5. Finish cooking pasta and remove it and the sauce from heat. After both have cooled slightly, toss the pasta in the sauce pot.
6. Serve immediately. Top with grated cheese.


This meal is guaranteed to make your house smell like amazing Italian food and herbs. It is also guaranteed to taste fabulous. Sure, it's missing long cook times, wine as an ingredient, and all sorts of other stuff (mushrooms!). But I guarantee (again!) -- This is the basics of a good meat sauce. If you like, you can sub in pork, veal, or better yet, add 'em to the mix. But regardless, this is the max bang for the effort you will achieve. And, as an eater, it's delicious.

ENJOY!

This is when it gets hard

I was pissed when my alarm went off this AM. There just isn't enough time in my day to sleep, do all of my work, hang out with E, have a social life, keep in touch with my family, and train for my marathon. Something always has to give. Every day.

Yesterday was very well-aligned with my priorities. I fit in my run, a doctor's appointment, lunch with a former colleague, 4 hours of volunteer work, calls with my brother, sister, lucky_girl, and R, a brief chat with E upon my late arrival home, and a full day of work between a couple of hours at home in the AM, a few in the office, and a few more to get almost caught up before midnight.

But, of course, I have to pay for it today. Because when you are a lawyer, often a full day of work isn't sufficient. I had more than a full day's worth of work to do.

After the whirlwind day yesterday, I'm exhausted and hit snooze a couple of times, feeling guilty about it each time -- both because it annoys E and because there's stuff I should be doing. It's raining right now and I'm supposed to do 8 miles this AM. Also, I have work due to a partner this AM that I opted not to do last night at midnight in lieu of sleep before my run.

So, I'll do the work now instead of run in the rain. I'll go to work and eat lunch at my desk (which is a serious sacrifice for me) in the hopes that I can get enough done to get out of the office in time to fit the run in before dark. But, experience has taught me that when I miss the AM run there's at least a 50% chance that the PM run isn't going to happen due to work.

I'm not burnt out right now, at all. I've had a couple of relatively mild work weeks and some relaxing weekends. But now that things are picking up on all fronts (unfortunately, the wonderful lull at work seems to be coming to an end), I'm starting to be frustrated. I just wish I had more time. I find myself thinking, "If only I'd done X then..." But, truly, I feel like I maximize my use of time as well as I can, and it's STILL not good enough.

The Tenth Circle

E2 [Curious] -- What are you reading?
BT -- The The Tenth Circle, by Jodi Picoult.
E2 [Even more Curious]-- Is it a *graphic novel*?
BT [laughing] -- Oh, no. One of the main characters is a comic book illustrator. [Holds up pages for E2's view] These are his work...


Leave it to E2 to know the technical term for a book filled with comics.

*Graphic Novel*

Who talks like that?

Well, it would seem that I'm going to have to start.

I could try to explain to you why I couldn't put this book down this weekend.
How my weekend was so fabulous partially because it was interwoven with my enjoyment of this book. How it told a story of such truly good-intentioned, hurt, and flawed humanity that I fell in love with all of the characters and found myself cheering for them individually, even while they took actions that eventually (and predictably) hurt each other.

Or, I could just point you to the reviews: http://www.jodipicoult.com/the-tenth-circle.html.

It's just a great story. AND, it's got cool comic drawings.

What more could you want?

Surprising Speed

This weekend, I ran a gorgeous race with E2. I cannot say enough about this beautiful course. Except, of course, that the initial 6 miles uphill, aka the last 6 miles of the marathon are a bit of test, both physically and mentally.

Lucky for me, E2 is a mountain goat in a human's body and all I had to do was keep up 'til the turn around, when it was all down-hill. E2 was with me on my first half marathon and approximately 40% of the "official" races I've run since then, not to mention at least 30% of the long training runs I've done.

So, I feel like I know what to expect out of E2. Imagine my surprise when I looked down at the garmin just before the turn around and realized that E2, who had been setting the pace, had put us in position to clear 2 hours, at above 4,000 feet, at elevation, where the first 6.5 miles were uphill. All of this while she claimed to be having allergy issues, un-trained, and I planned to be lazy.

Yeah, I was shocked too. So much for lazy.

Around 6 miles, I tried to explain her bad-assedness to her, but I suspect it fell upon deaf ears. As I explained what I perceived to be an amazing option for a personal best, she calmly took her elevation-doesn't-phase-me-goat-like gait and rhythmically bounded down the hill.

I followed and enjoyed the faster-than-expected training run for my marathon, the fall colors, the views, and the opportunity to cheer on those behind us, who were many, thanks to E2's goat-like super-powers.

We finished a half at our fastest shared half-marathon time. Just over 2 hours, but if you believe my garmin, we cleared the *true* 13.1 around 2 hours, exactly.

Regardless, I was surprised to find that I finished my fastest shared run with E2 this weekend. That was not my plan. By no means am I complaining. In fact, I'm thankful.

What a great weekend!

Some Advice

If you are trying to be supportive of a co-worker's baseball team, and you think it would be a good idea to send a supportive email of congrats when you see their team up 8-6 in the top of the 13th (!) inning, in what must have been an amazing game...

It's probably best to wait to *after* the bottom of the 13th to send the congratulatory email.

That is all.