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.

T Minus 12 Hours.

In 12 hours, a cab will pick us up and take us to the airport. My peds are cured, my sunblock bought, and bag mostly packed. It took longer than I thought to pack for this trip, mostly because while I think all I need are some dresses and a swimsuit, seeing my mom's bag made me think I was woefully underpacked. If things go smoothly -- fingers crossed as we have a tight connection -- this time tomorrow, we will have been in the Carribbean for three hours. People have warned me that there is nothing to do there. Nothing surrounded by warmth, sand and drinks sound perfect.

Can't wait.

Fated Frames.

I've loved having my mom in town this week but it has admittedly been a tad stressful just because I am used to doing things subject only to my own schedule. Today, I had a mental schedule of getting home early, by 6:00, in order to have a quick dinner of delicious mama-made grilled cheese and then head to Southern Italy wine tasting at Perman Wines.

At about 4:55, my mom called, telling me that her glasses had broken while she was leaving over a hot oven. The plastic lens was scooped up quickly enough that no real harm was done. BUT, her glasses were unwearable and without glasses my mama can't see. This was an emergency given that we are set to depart for the island at the pre-crack of dawn on Sunday.

I dropped what I was doing and headed home to pick mom up and take her to a vision place. While not perfect, thankfully, we were able to find a frame that works. And, a frame that was oddly reminiscent of glasses the my mom wore when she was a kid. Its totally retro and quite cute.

It almost appeared fated -- the only frame in the store that would fit her current lens was from Tommy Bahama. Its like Tommy knew that we needed him to get to our vacation.

Restaurant Week.

One of my favorite weeks to live in Chicago is Restaurant Week. Its an amazing deal for so many great restaurants in Chicago. For $22 at lunch, and $32 at dinner, you get a three (or four) course pre fixe meal.

This week is one of the reasons that I have my shame for my love of what I will going forward call The Place, as described in Secret Shame. I must admit that this week's restaurant agenda did include a chain (China Grill) but on a different level than The Place.

When I first learned the dates for the 2010 Restaurant Week, I called my mom and invited her out. She is much more of a foodie than I am and appreciates this week even more than I do. This week, we dined at China Grill (love, love, love their calamari salad), Le Colonial (delightful although dimly lit), and will complete the week at Hot Chocolate. We were lucky enough to be joined by Melissa and Grover for Le Colonial which made an already good dinner great and super-productive from a problem solving perspective.

Bon appetite!

Mom-Hugs.

My mom is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, assuming that the winter storm's predicted 8 inches of snow doesn't delay her. We have been planning on doing some Restaurant Week-ing, perhaps a bit of shopping, and going to the gym before we depart for Anguilla at the end of the week. However, this weekend was tainted by tragedy. One of my colleagues was killed in a random, faultless and entirely awful accident while on a department snowmobiling trip. He was only 29. After learning this sad news and spending the day with Missy who was on the snowmobiling trip as well, I requested that my mom be sure to pack her mom-hugs as they are much needed. Thankfully, she never comes to visit without them.

The Year of the Tiger.

Last night was Chinese New Year's Eve. To celebrate 2010's Year of the Tiger, Olivia and Jonathan hosted a dinner in Chinatown for 9 people. This dinner was something I've been looking forward to for a month and it more than exceeded my hopes. And, as my friend, Tony the Tiger would say, it was grrrrrrrrrreat.

It was Chinatown's busiest night. Because of that and the size of our group, the restaurant required Olivia and Jonathan to pre-order the menu a few days in advance. A choice between a western and Chinese menu confronted them. While they opted for the western menu, there was still chicken feet and sea cucumber served to us. We've decided that next year, we can take on the Chinese menu with its abalone and shark fin soup.

We arrived at 6:45 and left over four hours later, one of the last tables. That was in part because the owner intentionally sent our food out slowly so we could enjoy it and the company. Combine that with our Fischer Price-style game of making the sound of your Year and our table sounded like a bunch of barn yard animals (lots of horses and sheep, very few of anything else).

I learned that I was born in the Year of the Sheep. Per wikipedia, sheep are: Righteous, sincere, sympathetic, mild-mannered, shy, artistic, creative, gentle, compassionate, understanding, mothering, determined, peaceful, generous, seeks security. Can be moody, indecisive, over-passive, worrier, pessimistic, over-sensitive, complainer, weak-willed.

Many of those characteristics seem wrong (artistic? mothering? really?) but as it applies to everyone born between January 27, 1979 and February 15, 1980, its not surprising its a broad definition.

Gung hay fat choy!

Civilian Status.

Last night, I attended an event at the restaurant at Neiman Marcus, which was essentially a book signing for Bethenny Frankel, a Real Housewife of New York. I got there about an hour late -- I had to go to happy hour first -- which was perfect timing. It was just in time to hear the tail end of Bethenny's talk. I haven't watched all of the Real Housewives series on Bravo, but I have seen both New York and New Jersey. Bethenny struck me on the show and the event as a witty and motivated person. However, I really hate her tagline for her products, books, etc: Skinnygirl. Thankfully, they were serving bubbles in addition to her skinnygirl margarita.

The book signing was hosted by one of the social magazines here. As a result, the place was full of socialite-types, PR girls, and writers and editors for various publications around the city. One of the PR girls was the host of a Halloween party the Spice Girls attended. We chatted most of the event, during the course of which, she described me as a civilian. I am going to adopt that terminology for whenever you throw a poor little lamb into the wolves of a certain industry. I always feel badly when you bring a civilian into a room of lawyers. That said, being a civilian in a room full of socialites and that industry is nothing but comedy. You will always find some beautiful clothes and some curiously timeless faces. And, if you're lucky enough to have friends who know the backstories behind the various people, its a fun time.

When Life Gives You a Fork . . .

Today I came to a fork in the professional road. While delightful utensils, forks are never particuarly fun to confront. This particular fork threw my entire day off. I suspect it will be a rather anxious week ahead as I determine the route. If only I had a GPS.

However, in the late afternoon, one of my friends stopped by my office to discuss the potential paths. That alone was a much-appreciated gesture. We ended the conversation with her offering to buy me a drink. I originally said, "thanks but no thanks." Twenty minutes later, I changed my mind. I mean, what was I thinking? Silly me.

We were quickly joined by another friend for a drink and a snack at a nearby bar. As they told me, one of the best parts of having girl friends is always having someone there who is willing to raise a glass with you, either to celebrate or commiserate. While we generally specialize in good times -- lord knows, we enjoy raising a glass -- my girls were wonderful today. And, it doesn't hurt that we all enjoy the bubbles. The three of us brainstormed regarding the fork and came up with a plan. Shortly thereafter, they had to depart for other tasks.

I headed over to the gym, talking to my mom on the way who was impressed by how bubbly made things better for my mood AND plan. Once at the gym, I realized I wasn't super motivated to workout and decided to do a quick recon for another friend who usually could be found at the gym around that time. And, luckily, I found not one but two friends as soon as I stepped out of the locker room. We soon reconvened at the bar, discussing my fork, along with other topics. Not long after, I was lucky enough to have a fifth friend join us. And, in abundance of support, a sixth friend offered me her ear and counsel on Sunday when she gets back in town.

Long story short: my friends are awesome especially when life is less so.

Secret Shame.

I live in Chicago. There are so many wonderful, unique restaurants here. Yet, tonight, I ate at a chain restaurant. And, to compound my offense, I have to say that it was perfect. In my defense, I was in a weakened state following the receipt of some foreboding information. Further, said chain had Veuve on the wine list.

I will not speak of it again. But, I surely will eat there again, in secret shame.

Snow Day.

It has been snowing literally all day long -- before the sun came up and continues well after it set. This is the most snow Chicago has seen in at least a year, maybe more. And, it could not be more perfectly timed for me.

My work load is pretty light right now so I did about four hours of work in the morning, had lunch with a friend, and decided at 2:00 pm to leave before the snow and roads were supposed to get worse. I did not miss a single call (I know because I forwarded my phone just in case), or even a non-spam email during "work hours." In addition, its really quite lovely outside right now and will be for about the next 12 hours until the dirt of the city turns everything grey.

Those are my pluses to an adult version of a snow day. On the minus column, my rheumy sure isn't loving it. Can't win 'em all. Assuming the weather clears out as forecasted, I'll be back to normal aches and pains by Thursday afternoon. I (finally. . .hopefully) will be done with my review, and will look forward to attending an event on Friday evening with one of the more annoying Real Housewives of New York, and celebrating the Year of the Tiger in Chinatown on Saturday.

They Say Its My Birthday.

31 years and about 8 hours ago, I was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin to a wonderful family.

Today, to mark the date -- or, as my mom likes to point out, the start of my 32nd year of life -- my parents sent me a huge bouquet of sunflowers at work. (Sunflowers are one of those symbolic flowers for me. When I graduated from law school, our graduation ceremony was called the Sunflower Ceremony. For me, the sunflower will always be tied to the law.) They followed that up with an actual mailed birthday card. So rare these days, but so nice.

My brother and his boyfriend also sent me flowers today. They are the one gift I will ever let my brother give me -- not too expensive, never a bad fit, and always, always brightens my days as long as the flowers last. This year, he gave me a bright bunch that are opening nicely, and cheering my desk right up. My birthday of flowers (which I love) actually started last week with my good friend sending me an early delivery that brightened up my whole weekend. At this rate, it might be my birthday month with some beautiful flowers surrounding me. :)

Tonight, despite that fact that it was my 31st birthday -- a nothing birthday really -- and a school night Monday, a bunch of my friends met me for a drink. We had the backroom at my favorite bar, a bunch of bubbly, some food, and lots of laughs. I've said it before but I am really lucky to have the interesting, intelligent, caring, diverse group of friends that I do.

My family of friends and family of family really made my birthday wonderful. Thank you, all.

Working for the Weekend.

Or, in my case, working through the weekend. I actually don't mind working from the office on the weekends. Its generally nice and quiet with no ringing phones, hallway chatters, or the like, and casual clothes. (Mind you, not too casual. I'm no longer in college so going to work in my pajama pants, while tempting, is no longer appropriate.) However -- and its an important however -- if you end up working full days in the office, it messes with your mind.


I spent over 20 hours in the office this weekend. I suppose that sounds bad when you put it that way but it was a rather productive use of time. A few hiccups but nothing awful. I usually try to do any necessary weekend work from home but it was logistically silly this weekend. While we accomplished a lot, my problem is that I now feel like it is Wednesday or Thursday. Its weird what a time warp being in the office on a weekend causes. A time warp and a laundry backlog.

Dear Anonymous.

I received my first ever blog comment today. I have to say, I enjoyed it more than I expected. Perhaps that's because I use this space to remove the rattling thoughts from my head and not some other purpose. To my knowledge, roughly three people read this every once in a while -- one of my friends and my parents.

So, to get a comment was one quite nice thing but to get a complimentary comment, even better. So, Dear Anonymous, thank you. Your comment made my day.

Tik Tok.

Damn Ke$ha. And not just for her stupid use of the $ in the spelling of her name. Altough, that is one of my objections to her. How do you even pronounce that? And, its not because of her ridiculous taste in men either. She won't talk to any man unless he "looks like Mick Jagger." Seriously, has she seen what an embalmed, leathery piece of man he's become at this point? I just cannot believe her songwriters couldn't come with a better line to rhyme with "swagger" than Jagger.

No, my problem with her is that her opening lines of Tik Tok just taunt me. "Pedicures on our toes [toes]." Every single time I hear the song, which is at least once an hour, I'm reminded of how badly my peds need curing and I just have not had the time to do it.

These Kids.

Since I don't have children, I don't have the possibility of the terrifying realization, while yelling at my kids, that I've become my mother. As an apparent substitute, I realized that I've become the senior associates I always didn't understand. Why were they so impatient? Why did they need things so early?

As it turns out, they needed things "early" because it takes time for them to do their jobs so that the partners can do their jobs. And, you never want to give it to the partner with only a couple hours and/or requiring the partner to pull a late night to get something done. Its annoying and rude. Live and learn.

Last week, we had two drafts due on an important project. The deadline on Friday was rather important. On Thursday evening, at a not-late 6:30, I sent an email to a junior associate requesting two citations for our deadline the next day. Two hours went by and I received exactly no response. This was not the first time that this particular junior associate had blown me off, hell it was the second time that week. Another senior associate had been his champion but he came over to my side after being blown off last week as well.

So, I decided to send a crappy email. I even invoked the old tried and true saw "the Firm gives you a blackberry for a reason" in telling the junior associate to respond to me, even if it was to say that he wasn't near a computer, and advise me of when I'd have what I needed. An hour later, he responded with "first thing in the morning." In his world, first thing in the morning in 9:45 am.

These kids these days.

VTK.

I heard rumors that VTK lost its lease four months ago but I didn't believe it. The place is well-liked and always seems pretty full, even if it isn't the new hot thing. I walked by on Friday and noticed that it is gone. Apparently, New Year's Eve was its last night in operation. It will be replaced by a Rosebud. One of three within a mile radius, just what we need.

I will miss VTK. I LOVED their pad thai, beef tenderloin, their appetizers and their dollar dessert menu at lunch. Oh, mini passion fruit souffle, I might miss you the most. (Oddly, the full size one I did not enjoy at all.)

On the plus side, I'll always have my bag to remind me. The smell is mostly gone now but I don't think I'll ever forget my pad-se-ewwwwwww incident.

Philosophy

A friend of mine gave me "pomegranate bubbly" flavored products -- lip gloss, shower gel and lotion -- from Philosophy for Christmas. We suffered through a Kant class together during college so I thought it appropriate. (I couldn't and kan't stand Kant to this day.) Also, our
birthdays are about 3 weeks apart so the antioxidate flavor was not inappropriate.

I read the labeling on the lotion today:

"What if we woke one day and were told we must begin to take lessons on being a fine glass of
champagne?
Lesson #1: celebrate bring timeless knowing with each day you become better and more valuable instead of older and less desirable.
Lesson #2: rejoice in the fact that you can tickle peoples [sic] spirits by being effervescent and alive versus bitter, bland, or hollow.
Lesson #3: covet your own curves as you admire the finest of shapely glass bottles.
Lesson #4: never postpone a celebration.
Lesson #5: you are the greatest celebration of all."

Who knew? You can take note from lotion. Learning from a glass of bubbly, however, is not news to this girl.

Vacay!

I am not positive how to pronounce it but my first vacation since the summer of 2006 is taking place on Anguilla, the British West Indies, during the first week of March. I don't mind travelling alone but prefer to take a vacation with someone. For apparently the past almost-four years, my schedule has not matched up with those of my friends. One bonus of my mom's health sabbatical this semester is that she is free to vacation with me and an island has got to be just what the doctor ordered.

We are staying at the Viceroy Anguilla (http://www.viceroyanguilla.com/) for five nights. Neither of us are feeling particularly ambituous soI suspect our itinerary will be limited to working out (me, not so good for the mom right now), laying on the beach, enjoying drinks with umbrellas (or the like), snorkeling, dining at some good restaurants (per Wiki, Anguilla is the culinary capital of the Caribbean) and perhaps a ferry ride to St. Marteen or St. Bart's. Or, essentially doing nothing but being lazy in the nice warm weather (average daily temperature of 83) with white sandy beaches as our scenery.

Cannot. Wait.

MD&A

Generally, I am not one of those people who in a social situation can only talk about their work. At our firm's happy hours, I usually choose who I talk to and where I stand by whether those people are inclined to talk about their cases. Last night, I was within earshot of the most boring conversation I've heard all year (fine, in at least eight days), where one person conducted a monologue detailing the procedural posture, underlying case law, and a blow-by-blow of her actions and conversations with opposing counsel for at least twenty minutes. I don't know how the other person (not involved in the case, more understandable if she was) managed to feign interest for that long. Occasionally, there will be a legal topic in the news that I'm happy to discuss if other, non-lawyer, friends want to as well. But, I just assume that most people don't want to talk about the nitty-gritty of the law and instead would prefer to think that what we lawyers do is accurately portrayed on Law & Order.

So, I find it weird that my first interpretation of Jay-Z's lyrics in "Empire State of Mind" was rooted in securities law. Now, Jay-Z isn't above using legal terms, as he said, he's "not a lawyer but I know a little bit." Of course, that was referring to when the police can search your car and every good former drug dealer probably does know a little bit about that.

But, in "Empire State of Mind," his latest and biggest hit that has been performed all over the place, including TV, there is a line that I kept hearing as "MD&A got you feeling like a champion." On the one hand, Jay-Z has been a CEO. On the other hand, I sincerely doubt he gets intimately involved in his Management's Discussion & Analysis, assuming his company is publicly traded. Yet, I can see how that section of an annual report would have you feeling like a champion if your company had a good year.

Real line: "MDMA has you feeling like a champion." I had to look that up but MDMA is the actual name for ecstasy.

Well, That Was Quick.

Its only the fourth day of January -- but first official day back in the office -- and I remember why I hate January. Its the month of anxiety for me.

It doesn't matter how you finished last year. You could have run for daylight, struggling to make your 2,000 billable hours, or been grinding it out after a long year at 2,400 billable hours. Makes no difference. January means you start at zero. When I was a first year, I remember a more senior associate telling me that she always tried to work a little on New Year's Day, that way no matter what, at least she'd start the year positive. I thought it was crazy at the time, when my hours didn't count. Now, I see the wisdom of that advice.

This year, while I currently have work, it has an expiration date at the end of the month. That means I need to rustle up enough new work to keep myself busy full time in the next three weeks.

January also means reviews. Or, at least, scheduling of reviews. With the exception of my first year, I've never enjoyed my review. Its the only time of the year we get any actual feedback and its intentionally critical (veiled as constructive or flat-out), which is rarely good for your self-esteem. This year my review was scheduled in December -- a first -- for January 20th. The dread had already kicked in when I got a phone call re-scheduling it to February 3rd. As usual, right before my birthday. The firm's gift to me.

Between that and some usual annoyances, it was not my best day but it was typical of January.

Out With The Old.

New year, new stuff.

At 8:00 am this morning, I received delivery of a brand new washer-dryer. The delivery time was a surprise but the delivery itself was much-anticipated. The dryer has been problematic for years. By problematic, I mean two fires (or, at least smoke produced) and an inability to dry a towel in under three hours. I'm a lazy person so it took roughly two years of my mother nagging me to request that my landlord replace it. Once I did, it was a mere two week wait and an hour for nice dry clothes.

After a great spin class at the gym, I spent the afternoon attempting to remove a desk to make room for a new armoire that is being delivered this month. I knew the desk could be taken apart since I put it together but it was somewhat trickier than imagined. Once I figured out the trick to the weird locking screws, it wasn't that bad. Worse to carry down to the trash. I'm very much looking forward to the new armoire. With the replacement of the desk, I am giving away the last bit of my law school life. Its time, after all I've been practicing for over five years now. Also, the armoire's purchase was motivated by the anticipation of my mom spending more time here in the next six months. I think that if she's going to be able to spend some time here, she might as well be able to unpack and make herself at home.

Twenty Ten.

My New Year's Eve plan worked out with one minor detail -- apparently the combination of prosecco and shots causes me to time travel, despite laying a solid foundation. One would think I know better.

I find myself wondering what 2010 will bring. More so than most years, I find myself very uncertain about the future holds, with really no idea what might happen. Keeps things interesting, I guess. As it unfolds, I'll be repeating to myself the one prayer that I actually know off the top of my head, in paraphrase style: strength to accept what I can't change, courage to change what I can, and wisdom to know the difference.

I just wiki'd the serenity prayed and learned that while attributed to Niebhur, has been adopted by Alcoholics Anonymous and the other twelve-steppers. That's unfortunate but I guess appropriate given that I started the new year with a hangover.