Black Balloons

Shortly after I turned 11, my dad published this article. I've just re-read it, it's not exactly what I remember reading probably most recently 15 years ago (the internet is amazing.) But I thought of that article today. I had a different kind of day with some parallels. Today is my kindness son, Johan's, 4th birthday. It's also the day my client was sentenced to ten years in prison.

Johan is a remarkable kid. Cute as a button, but also funny and thoughtful and with a stellar mind of his own. And he has his whole life ahead of him. A life I think and hope will be long and filled with loud adventures and quiet nights, with near boundless possibility and great people he already knows and all those he's going to get to meet. His mom and his dad and his village have done a great job.

My client has been in and out of prison for most of his adult life. And now he's going back and when he gets out, he'll be in his early 60s. It's what we were expecting, but it's also a long time. A long time for something that isn't that serious and when no one was hurt. But it is also a product of the system "working," more or less. That is how it works. This is a 50 year old man who has been addicted to drugs his entire adult life started treatment for the first at the jail in September... unfortunately about a year too late. This is now most of a life, wasted sitting in prison. This person turned 4 at one point, with his whole life ahead of him. This is how it works. And thinking about it very much is terribly, terribly depressing.

But it is all not as grim as the article-- no one is dead. But the contrast of today makes me sad.

Franklin Che Steve Doughty

Gustopher

view full image

Some Days/Weeks

Having a job that feels important is not all it is cracked up to be.

We Got a New Car! (but not a new dog, 3rd one is a visiting friend-dog)

Dark Ages

I temporarily ditched my iphone, fried my ipod charger and had my camera charger crap out on me. Replacements for the second two are on their way. But it's like the dark ages up in here. Like 2002 or something.

Shiver.

Lesson on Manners

The "quiet room" antechamber at a massage place, where cell phones and loud voices are banned is an inappropriate place to eat an apple (m'am) and a Pay Day candy bar (sir.) Kindly step outside with your buffet.

Don't Know What This Color is Called

But I call it, "Hi, I'm Sarah, I'm your lawyer."

I'm not stopping because this is weird. Bullish on OPI- rusty red. Two coats with Poshe top coat. Take me for what I am, Internet!

I'm Just a Girl With a New Haircut & It's a Pretty Nice Haircut

You Don't Know Jacques

There’s a story I’m involved in telling pretty frequently, it’s where a friend from high school asks if another friend and I have ever used opium. There is this long pause. I don’t know what she was thinking, but I was thinking, “haveidonethatnobutisitsomethingishouldlieabouthavingdone?” Turns out the preface was a vehicle for her to tell us another friend had. So if you spend some time in other peoples’ worlds, it’s hard to hold on to your sense of up and down, good and bad. It happens a lot with the internet, there are so many weirdo worlds in there. For awhile it was Christian mommy bloggers, lately it has been nail polish blogs. Thanks and no thanks to Lauren P. who made/ruined my life with a nail polish blog bundle on g-reader. They all do this thing they call “swatching” where they paint their nails with a new color or design and then photograph their nails while holding the bottle of nail polish. So I painted my nails after work yesterday and took this picture:




And I am admitting this, only because I promptly gave myself a firm talking to where I reminded me that I have interests and a career and interesting people in my life and I don’t need to be a weirdo just because those people on the internet are. I also don't need to compete with what I imagine these other people are. So, no, I have never tried opium. But don't my nails look great?

This Summer, So Far

And there went a month! This summer, more than others, I’ve really been appreciating how great summer is. I think doing it right has a lot to do it with, doing summer-specific things and not just living the same way in warmer weather. There have been a lot of highlights, but the quiet quality and enjoyment has been the best. In the past month of summer, I…

Drove up the Pacific Coast Highway in an orange Camero convertible.

Had a fire and drank wine at the ocean.

Walked bare-armed and sun-kissed home.

Ate tamales and fish tacos with a view of the Pacific.

Trained tomato plants into a trellis cage.

Walked dogs after work, enjoying the extended light.

Hung out by the lake in Michigan.

Read 5 paper back mysteries in a swing over 4 days.

Had two milkshakes one day, and then two rootbeer floats the next.

Drank hard Arnold Palmers at dusk.

Suntanned my legs.

Whacked weeds, watered raspberries, moved indoor plants outdoors.

Wore skirts and dresses to work, most days.

Drank drinks on a patio.

Shopped the farmer's market.

Stopped by, “just for gelato…”

Picked blueberries.

Watched a hula.

Celebrated national Hot Dog day.

Saw old friends, saw new friends, made even newer friends.

And probably a lot more. And still it seems, none of these things enough—but trying and succeeding in being present and thankful and enjoying life, are good things to do in any season.

Another Rec...

I also recently finished this book, The Sins of Brother Curtis. In the interest of full disclosure, the main character is my uncle, my mom's brother. Funny, huh? But I'd heard from family that, "you know, that book about Tim, it's actually really good!" I agree. It's a true story legal thriller and really well-written. Some of the details are truly shocking, but continued to be a page-turner up through the end.

I'm now in the middle of Nine Lives, there is sure a recommendation coming. At times it gets a little cute (the Orleans Parish DA, Harry Connick's, son singing at a party at age 9, for example) but also well-written and a love letter to a city I also love.

Exit Through the Gift Shop

This movie is a total delight. It's a documentary about streeet art, specifically Banksy's, and it's not at all what I expected it to be. It also challenged me somewhat about my feelings about public art v. graffiti. Banksy does these political murals on the wall built in the West Bank. Art? Absolutely and not something I feel should be criminally prosecuted. The guys spraying paint, hitting each car as a train went by... string 'em up! It's destructive and... that's not art! Like the Supreme Court, I know it when I see it, apparently.

Anyway, check it out, it's on Netflix Instant which would be a really good option for those of you with a reliable internet signal...

poignant

Late the following morning, I picked her up from beside the quad. Her grin was uncontrollable as she got into the car, and her voice, usually measured, was a barely punctuated garble of names and details. Had I read Andrey Platonov’s “Foundation Pit” (she’d been to a class on it)? She met this kid who. . . . It was pledge night for boys trying to get into fraternities. . . . There was a picnic. . . . Everybody’s door was open. . . . They stayed up until after midnight, talking and singing. . . . She played a borrowed ukulele. . . . There was a boy who’d been a year ahead of her at elementary school in Seattle. . . . Everybody said. . . .
She’d picked up the slang and was talking ProFros and RoHos.
“I haven’t seen you like this since you were 7,” I said.
“I’m so excited, it’ll make the rest of high school unbearable if I get to thinking too much about it.”
She calmed down over lunch. Her great worry, she said, had been that she would never again have friends as close as those she made at high school; that college students would keep themselves to themselves and be hard to get to know. Overnight all her fears had been gloriously dispelled. Her two-house life in Seattle had, she said, helped ready her to go away. “At least I know I can survive without one parent at a time.”

This essay made me misty, poignant in a lot of ways.

The end of vacation is always boring. And logistics make it even worse, like when the sweet trip is over, I’d like to just be home in normal life. Flying and waiting for bags and getting the parked car and driving 2 hours home and picking up the dogs the next day is really just insult to injury as far as I am concerned. There’s lots to say about the trip, but for now two things that have made me laugh since getting back to work today:

1. Police report: “I initially thought he had a large piece of food in his mouth, but on closer review it appeared to be a wisdom tooth.” So gross for some reason.

And

2. Letter from client: “Especially here in Arizona, they’re mean here. Or maybe it’s just my bald melon.” (no, it doesn’t make a lot more sense in context, but did make me guffaw out loud.)

Welcome back to post-vacation, post-30 summertime!

Elephant Seals!

Today is my 30th birthday! Crazy, right? Not so much because 30 is that old, but because it’s all starting to speed up just like they always say it will. Ten years ago was 20? How did that happen? This whole ride is likely (hopefully, knock on wood) a third over? Whoa. But kind of like turning 23 after the first year out of college, this birthday feels right. And I’m in a good place. I live in a house that I own with a terribly swell fellow. I have the two best dogs in the world. I have a job that I love in a career that I want. Over the last 30 years I’ve met and made many good people and good friends. I was even able to wrangle a decent showing at some birthday beers on Friday here in my newest life. Then Saturday I had more celebration and did shots of tequila with a 20 yr old. So, basically, a dream come true. Except Sunday morning, based on how many tequila shots were done. Oh, and weekend before last in Vegas I stayed up after 7am. So…being a rockstar is not as easy these days as it used to be… but I do, apparently, still have it in me.

So, on this culmination of 30 years of earth, I'm looking forward to the ones coming down the pike. I'm thankful for what I have and what I've done and who I know. I'm hopeful I can continue to work on myself, doing things better and being my best version of me. I'm excited that there is so much good ahead, as indicated by how much good there is behind.

Frenemies

I went to the humane society today, with friends looking for a dog. Super duper wanted another one, it's so sad there and Gus, for example, has a bazillon- better life now than when he was there. It's hard but important I think to do what we can about pain and suffering in the world... But we can't do it all. But we have to keep doing something, there's a lot of it. People and dogs included. And I guess cats, but, um, gross.

Tomatoes from Outer Space!

Here at 7,000 feet, our "frost free" date is June 15th. Last year I risked it/didn't know what I was doing and planted tomatoes and more about mid-May. We had a frost, the plants all died. And then I was... busy [that Rwanda episode...] ... and didn't get to replant until almost July. So the short growing season was made even shorter and we ended up getting some tomatoes and a lot of squash and peppers that would have done great if they had had another month or so to grow. My green thumb is only getting greener, though, and today I got these guys- the wall of water. They're supposed to protect the plants down to 16 degrees. They're basically like a circle of pouches filled with water to insulate. So they sit on the spots for a week, warming the dirt, and then next weekend I can plant tomatoes inside them. It's exciting (a relative term, I know) and I have plans for all kind of other veggies- asparagus, onions, potatoes, peppers-- and raspberries. We're even thinking of growing hops in case we ever want to take the homebrew to the final level of hominess.

I'd heard and last year proved true, that gardening up here you really only need to worry about watering through June. There are these crazy weather things I had no idea about with this area, one of them is the "monsoon" where it rains heavily every afternoon. Inconvenient for some things, convenient for the lazy gardener!

This is My Life

Me: Hi, is this Tim?
Tim: Yes.
Me: Hi, I’m a lawyer in Arizona, I represent someone I think you know, Dave Johnson?
Tim: ...
Me: I’m sorry, he told me that he knows you from work?
Tim: Hillbilly Dave?
Me: ... I’m, um, not sure. He does odd jobs where you work, he also rents space the... he's blond...?
Tim: Yeah, there’s three Daves here, I call him Hillbilly Dave.
Me: Ok, well then, Hillbilly Dave is in jail, I am trying to get him out, can you write a letter about what you know about his character?
Tim: Sure!
Me: Ok, and can you not call him Hillbilly Dave in it?
**names have been changed to protect all alleged hillbillies**

Paleo

I'd been hearing about the Paleo Diet from various people (ok, some tangential acquaintances on Facebook) and the other week checked the book out of the library, I was curious. After a pretty quick glance, I was sure this wasn't for me. I believe them that only eating lean meats, fruits, vegetables and nuts is healthy. I believe maximizing those foods in one's diet would be a good thing. I don't believe I am willing to give up all dairy and grains. More specifically, I believe cheese is maybe the single best reason to be alive now instead of paleolithic times. Well, that and statistically I can expect to live past 30 (3 weeks! c'mon evolution!)
Anyway, today is another Monday where my legs and back are aching from theweekend's paleo workout. It is sometimes yard work where we constructed a border of rocks. It involves moving large-ish rocks from the backyard, in a wheelbarrow, to the front and placing them in this shallow ditch (not just for Greek myths anymore!) It involves digging and twisting and squatting and pushing a wheelbarrow. Reflecting on my sore hamstrings, I realized this was the action all of these strength-training classes are meant to mimic. I have discovered a new/very old way to be paleo-- and eat my cheese too!

Winging it Back from NYC

Lately

Clients keep telling me I'm hard to get ahold of. And I don't know what to say, sometimes I want to ask whether they think I'm sitting back sipping champagne while they're sitting in jail. Um, because I'm not (not during work hours, anyway.) I either need to develop a way to be in constant contact with 60+ people at a time... or develop thicker skin. They have a right to be able to reach their lawyer... but I have a right not to feel guilty after leaving home at 6:15am Thursday to do court in Page, America and spending all but 45 minutes Friday running around at court like a crazy lady. And then I got back to a notice that a client I was working hard for had hired a private lawyer... which should be a relief and delight since I wasn't going to make happen what he wanted to have happen... but was kind of insulting. Again, thicker skin needed.

Gus, King of Shenanigans. Alternatively titled, "clean up you g-d yard!"

FB

So if facebook status updates are annoying, maybe the only more annoying thing would be me complaining about them years after they were relevant. But here goes, sorry...

So there's the genre of "Sarah ate a turkey sandwich for lunch" that people love to complain about-- who cares about those details about your stupid life, etc. But the updates irking me lately are more in the category of "what the eff did you expect?"

"Sarah has a new baby and is really tired."

"Sarah lives in Death Valley and it is hot."

"Sarah likes weekends more than weekdays."

I am sure I've been guilty of this, as well but if you had a baby and thought you were going to get lots of sleep, or complained about not having a job until you got one and suddenly realized time off is nice... you're ill-prepared for life. If you expected all of these things but stil think these are interesting things to talk about... I beg to disagree. AND, if you are someone who "likes" or engages with these type of updates... please stop. I doubt this is the case, since readers who would do such a thing are more likely to read blogs of people who say "LOL" way more than I do, but it's a public service announcement.

Match Madness Redux

I'm still #1 in my pool but stupid Kentucky means I can't win. I had big plans for the winnings- over $600 toward 2012 final four tickets. Sigh!

Whole Wheat & Cinnamon Craisin Bagels

Whole Wheat Garlic Knots

Saguaro

Madness!

I kind of tend to get March Madness. Weird, right? A couple of related things:

1. We sing this all the time at home these days:



2. We're going to watch Wisconsin play in Tucson tomorrow.

3. As of right this very minute I'm #1 in my bracket pool thing, out of like 40 people.

Go Badgers!

In Praise of the YMCA

Over the years, my years of being on my own and belonging to gyms, I've done both private gyms and YMCAs. When we moved to Flagstaff, there was no Y here (I know, right? Don't get me started on living in a land of no GAP, either, it makes me disoriented.) But last summer they finished the one they were building and in October I joined (there was a discount through work, duh.)
So no matter what kind of gym I belong to, I hate-hate-hate that initial point where you don't really know your way around or how things work. I've known people who used free 1-week passes to go from gym to gym and get free workouts... but this is like my nightmare. Always not knowing where things are or how to sign up for classes? ASKING all the time? Ugh. Terrible.
So anyway, the Y here is super nice (although too small already, something about Flagstaff's big box store ordinance, I've been told in the lockerroom and don't understand) and has won all these green building awards and blah blah. But. I love it there.

It has a preschool in it, along with a daycare for kids with parents using the Y. I loved right before Halloween when the kids paraded through the cardio room with homemade masks on. I love the volleyball preteens who come to Zumba after practice, stand in the back and mimic us (ok, well not really them, they're actually pretty annoying, but I like that they're there for volleyball...) I love the yoga instructor who used to be a gymnast and so is fit but doesn't look all regular yoga-y instructor-y lithe... but like a regular person. I love all the different kinds of people who are there.

I do wish it was bigger, there was more parking and they provided towels. So, not all wine and roses with the YMCA, see?

Roasted Garlic & Tomato Olive Oil Wheat Baguette

Thanks

I had this client a couple of weeks ago and I had tried so hard to help her and to make things better. She had a mental health diagnosis that came about two years too late to keep her from getting into trouble. I really wanted to help her; maybe because she reminded me of my sister, maybe because mental health problems seem very ‘but for the grace of god’ to me, maybe because she has twin infants at home, maybe because she and her mom were trying so hard to make the best of her situation. Anyway, I tried really hard and we got a result that wasn’t perfect and will require her to do some substantial jail time… but was a lot better than what she was facing. And we made quite an impression on each other, she hugged me after she was sentenced and said thank you. And I knew she was going into jail the other day and so I checked for her on the jail list, just to make sure everything was going as planned. And then I got this card in the mail today.
I’ve been told and warned a lot that people will never appreciate me in my job. And to a large extent it’s true, it’s somewhat… thankless. I can’t make the impossible happen and so I get blamed from most sides, despite usually being the only one in the situation who had nothing to do with causing it at all. But it’s not completely thankless and really I’ve been thanked quite a bit. And it's nice every so often to be told people can tell you really care... when you're using a lot of energy really caring.

Someone from law school recently had a facebook status about hating being a lawyer… but I have to think, and feel a little bad for her that it's probably because she’ll never get a card like this.

Vacation!

We booked tickets last night for a week in California leading up to the Newner/Bruckman wedding extravaganza. And I realized, this is the first real vacation since spring break 2009 when we came out to the Southwest to interview and scope it out. There have been plenty of long weekend trips since then, but yowza... I'm overdue. And pledged last night that the next real vacation must happen before December 2013.

Turkish Pear Coffee Bread (we're getting into bread baking)

Success! Finally! So sweet!

WesLove

Tomorrow starts a very fun Wesleyan-related debaucherous adventure in New Orleans. Tonight was a Wesleyan reception with the president of the university. There were about 50 people there, a much larger turnout than I expected. Highlight of the evening and possibly my week (was not the cupcakes from the alum's cupcake store or the spanokopita, both which received high marks) was the statement of the current Wes sophomore when I said I was a public defender. "Whoa. That's, like, legit."

Second was a senior who said he wanted to live in New York for a few years and then go to Wisconsin for law school. "I basically want to do what you did."

And it's not so shabby, is it, kids? I am insanely jealous of you that you still get to be at Wesleyan... but you can do stuff after that is, for lack of a better term, totally legit.

I also had a moment of nostalgia with a couple who graduated in '92. They have two PhDs and eight kids... and he still regrets not hanging around Middletown the summer of 1992 after they graduated. I told him I thought it was completely understandable.

Some Nice Things Happened in Arizona Over the Weekend, Too.

Y211

Over Christmas we watched "It's a Wonderful Life." I didn't realize Charlie had never seen it. It's one of my favorite movies. I always forget and remember how much story comes before the seeing-life-if-George-Bailey-had-never-been-born part. My very favorite part, though, is of course the end when all of the "riff raff" pour into the Baileys' house and give what little bits they can to help George come up with the missing $8,000.

My dad said it and I agree for my own different reasons, 2010 was his "It's a Wonderful Life." It was mine, too. On one hand, I learned a valuable lesson and appreciate so much more than I think I did before. I saw I have a lot of friends and I have very good ones.
And, I mean, dudes, I was on BBC! I was in the NY Times, like, MANY times. And Foreign Policy! And I passed two bar exams while working full-time, can we revisit that accomplishment?? I also celebrated the beginnings of five new marriages of people I love. (and watched/helped another I love end hers... sad but probably also in the "good" column since "good" is being happy and healthy and whole.)
But a good portion of the year was terrible and I was so incredibly scared and unhappy and still feel so frayed and damaged about it I start crying. Less so now but by the fall I felt so tired, deep, deep down.

But. Holy shit. How bizarre. It's almost like a "be careful what you wish for" thing. Oh, you think being on BBC would be rad? Ok, well, we're going to put you through so much that six months later when the Associated Press calls you about something completely unrelated, you will have negative desire to call them back. (Yep. That happened. Last week.) My co-worker said, "it's kind of fun to see your name in the paper." Nope, not really anymore.
But enough bemoaning and verification I need to process all of this with a professional, eh?
My "Wonderful Life" illustrated all of the good for me, too. (these are not in order)
I love my job. See: previous post.
I love my man/boyfriend/joint tenant with right of survivorship/whatever- I don't need to gush over him on the internet, but he is a great person who makes me laugh, supports me in the ways I need and keeps me honest.
I have awesome dogs. See: FACT.
I have a warm house which always needs more TLC but is totally mine. Well, half mine. But, you know. Even when this happens (welcome home!):

I have so many friends. When in crisis or joy, I feel they're family I created for myself. Which brings me back to "Wonderful Life." George learns his friends, the riff raff, are there when he needs them. I learned my own riff raff, a coalition of people I've collected over the years, care about me. This is maybe stupid and oversharing, but for a kid who read Little Women on the playground when she was friendless in 1st grade and whose mother freshman year told her her college friends didn't really know her because if they did, they wouldn't like her (crazy shit, right?)... it's incredibly significant. It's significant and gratifying that I've picked amazingly high quality people to befriend and they've picked me back. I am both lucky and reenforced that I must be pretty darn ok if these awesome people all showed up at the house with whatever donation they could make. And then we sang Auld Lang Syne. No, wait, that was the movie.
Anyway. I can't trade experience. Do I wish lots of 2010 never happened? Yes. Do I see the value in the struggle? Yes, that too. Did a learn lots about myself and other people? Um... yeah, ok, fine. Am I pleased as fuck 2010 is over? Yes, ma'am.

On these first days of the new beginning, here's hoping for us all 2011 is a year of health and happiness and lessons learned as least painfully as possible.