Hold 'em.

Saturday was Windy City Nights Casino Night, including a celebrity Texas Hold 'Em tournament. This was an event sponsored by the Junior League in which two of my friends were playing as celebrities. It was also designated by one of my friends as her birthday celebration and invited all of us to play in the tournament.

I don't know much about poker. In fact, I had to google it to learn the order of winning hands and get a general sense of when to automatically fold. (God bless Al Gore and his internet.) Nonetheless, I figured that if I lost everything quickly, no big deal. It was a charity and not real money. So, I was in.

Shortly before the event, I got a call from my mom telling me that my great uncle had died. He had been sick for a couple months but last I heard, was improving. In retrospect, I think that he spent the last 60 years or so being completely independent and the past two months of being totally dependent with people constantly in his space just wore him down. Faced with a future of daily medical assistance, it seems like he was just done because he died shortly after they removed that assistance.

Now, I realize it sounds rather cold to attend an event after hearing this news. But, in my opinion, I think it was the best possible tribute to my uncle that I could do. He lived in Chicago in the 1950s and I don't think I ever had a conversation or communication with him since I moved here that didn't express his love for the city and directing me to enjoy it while I could. Moreover, the man loved to play cards, going up to the casinos several times each year. I didn't win but I also didn't embarrass myself. If only I had finished the night with a big steak, it would have been a perfect night in honor of my uncle.

Under Contract.

Saturday began a whirlwind that will last until mid-May, I think. I looked at about ten places on Saturday afternoon and on the very last one, found my new home. That evening, I wrote my first offer. I didn't want to be insulting and I also didn't want a prolonged negotiation. As it turns out, the seller was on the same page and we both had the same bottom line. (Oddly, the seller is a female attorney who is about to have knee replacement surgery. In about 30 years, if I were to stay there, history could be repeating itself with this place.) Over drinks with my real estate agent, we negotiated a deal. By 11:00 pm, I was under contract.

My new place is in a building that I would consider aesthetically to be the red-headed step-child of one of the prettiest streets in Chicago. The building has an elevator, a feature my knees already appreciate. While I could move into the place without making any changes, I've decided that if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do as much as I can afford to make it perfect before I move in. So, I'll be removing the popcorn ceiling, possibly knocking out a wall to open up the kitchen, and re-tiling the bathroom. The mortgage shopping, inspection, attorney review period, closing and interior design are essentially my idea of hell. But, once done, I have no doubt that I will be thrilled that I did this.

And, as icing on the cake, although slightly embarrassingly but definitely fun-ly, my new place is in the same building as Melissa.

Proud.

I called my mom this afternoon at a little before 5:00 in Colorado. While she was happy to answer the question posed, she didn't feel like chatting. Why? Because she was with two of her friends drinking prosecco before going out to dinner.

Its time like this that make me proud.

Fresh Start.

So far, this year has not been the best ever. Primarily, work has been a delightful combination of busy, stressful and discouraging. With the exception of my five days in Anguilla, I have maybe two good things to say about this year to date. As a result, I'm trying to think of ways to shake it off and get a fresh start.

My major plan begins on Saturday. After years of listening to my parents' nagging me about the amount of money I continue to throw away as a renter, I'm going househunting this weekend. I tend to get overwhelmed pretty quickly when confronted with housing choices. I'm hampered by the fact that I have no ability with spacial relationships. It makes my head hurt just to think about if and how my furniture will fit in a space. I'm a person who goes in a circle folding box flaps because I just don't see the spacial relationships. Its a tad pathetic.

My years of procrastinating this house buying step has a couple benefits. First, if I had bought years ago, I likely wouldn't have known that I have no need to go outside of my zone in daily life. (Bounded by the loop on the south, the lake on the east, North Avenue to the north, and Halsted to the west, my zone has everything I want.) I like the West Loop but its not really a neighborhood. Wicker Park is a neighborhood that I like but I hate the traffic there. I don't like Lakeview at all, with the possible exception of Wrigley Field. Anything north of Lakeview might as well be Canada for me. I like the South side just fine but its houses are generally much more run down than the north side and I'm definitely not a fixer-upper girl, even if I wish I was occasionally. Second, had I bought a few years ago, I would have bought at the height of the seller's market. Now, its still a buyer's market, with even a touch of desperation from sellers after such a long downturn.

I am sincerely hoping to find a place on Saturday that I love so that I can make my fresh start by summer.

Daylight Savings Suckered.

Daylight Savings started last weekend. I wasn't one of those people who showed up somewhere an hour too early. Nope, all of my clocks were changed and I was timely on Sunday. And yet, I still got suckered by Daylight Savings. However, I wasn't the one who suffered.

Yesterday, I had a call with a client in Singapore and co-counsel in San Fran. It was a re-scheduled call from the week prior because the client had forgotten about it. We had to use the ten minute rule last week. The call was at 6:30 pm CT, 4:30 PT, and 8:30 am on March 18 in Singapore. Like the week before, ten minutes elapsed and there was no sound of the client. Co-counsel called her office, sent her an email saying he'd try her cell. He called me, and prior to conferencing her in, reminded me of what happened last weekend. We had totally forgotten that Singapore -- being essentially on the equator -- doesn't use daylight savings. We woke the poor woman up.

Whoops.

Typical.

This weekend has been typical. By that, I mean, I spent Saturday morning at the gym (really, I like my Saturday workouts so much that its almost worth the not-being-super-drunk on Friday to make my 9:00-11:00 am workout on Saturdays), then went to work. Saturday evening I watched Up in the Air, which hit a little too close to home with all the firings. I haven't been fired but still, a little close to home for me to love the movie despite the Clooney smirk.

Today, I indulged my lazy nature, sleeping in and laying around, watching Couples Retreat and reading a book. Had dinner at Eivissa, a tapas bar in Old Town, that I've already decided will be my warm weather weekend regular spot. Their sangria goes down like water. Food delicious. Dessert awesome. Can't wait to go back.

Sadly, I'm ending my weekend reviewing documents for a specific purpose while watching the Cutting Edge 3. "Toe Pick" doesn't fix everything apparently. Can't win them all.

Anguilla.

Anguilla is an island that has informally adopted the motto that "it is good to do nothing and then rest." It was exactly what I needed.

Everyday was fairly similar in weather and activity. It was somewhere between 83 and 89 degrees each day. Every morning, I worked out, went to the beach, ate a low key lunch, and had a couple drinks. Every afternoon, when it got really hot, we went back to the room, to read and nap on our balcony overlooking the crashing waves below. Every evening, dinner was around 7:30 and then we'd head back to resort's bar for some after dinner cocktails. Minor variations would exist in that pattern.

It may sound boring but it was perfect.

As an aside, while I didn't make my mom drink with me, she decided to keep me company. Woman probably had more drinks in five days with me than in the past five years combined. She is starting to see the beauty of bubbly. Rather than me becoming my mom, I'd say she's slowly becoming me. They grow up so fast.

Straw Hat.

Anguilla is billed by some as the culinary capital of the Caribbean. And, the food really was quite good, especially if you like jerk seasoning, conch, red snapper, and barbecue. All of which I happen to enjoy. But, my most favorite thing that I ate was not an entree. Instead, it was the best piece of cheesecake I've ever had. It tasted like spritz cookie dough with the best graham cracker crust with a hint of cinnamon and nut.

This cheesecake can be found at Straw Hat, a restaurant whose terrace is on the beach with the surf crashing not twenty feet away. Mom and I went there for dinner on Tuesday and shared the cheesecake. The next day, the cheesecake kept coming up in conversation -- amongst ourselves, with locals, and resort employees. Returning from after dinner drinks, we decided on a whim to try to get another piece of cheesecake because we couldn't stop thinking about it. But, we got there at 10 and the kitchen had already closed. We were supposed to give up our rental car the next morning but kept it solely for the purpose of cheesecake. However, this time we made a reservation for dessert. And, didn't share.

We ate our last piece of the best cheesecake ever on Straw Hat's 15th anniversary. While I asked for the recipe, they would not disclose it. So, I have made an appeal to Bon Appetite. Fingers crossed that Straw Hat cannot withstand a recipe request from Bon Appetite's RSVP column.

Vacation Blues.

In short: vacation was really wonderful and being back in the office is really much less so.

As I sat in a windowless conference room today, paging through five boxes of paper, with the papercuts to prove it, surrounded by nothing but boxes and no one to talk to, I realized just how much less so. A week ago, I was sitting on the beach, surrounded by surf and sand, enveloped by the warmth of my old friend the sun, with my mom at my side, sharing barbeque and drinks. I could get used to that very easily. As my mom said as we sat in the St. Maarten airport, hearing flights being called for Saba, St. Bart's, and St. Kitt's, it was poor planning to go home after only five days. But, unfortunately, while poor planning, had we stayed as long as my lazy heart desired, I'd be planning to be poor.

Add to that week juxtaposition, today I had to accept a change in position that is rather discouraging. Hopefully, it will turn out to be for the best, but today, I'm blue about the whole work thing.