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.

NYEstimate.

Its 6:45p.m. on New Year's Eve. I am not a fan of this holiday, particularily in a city like Chicago where the norm to go out is $150 cover to fight for drinks. I considered going out of town to do something smaller and different but that didn't work out. So, my backup plan for the night was a bottle of bubbly and movies on my couch. The only problem is that I generally call that a Sunday. Despite NYE being an entirely arbitrary forced bit of festivity, I still feel like the night should be at least something. Missy and I caucused and came up with a plan.

The plan is amalgam of some of my favorite low-key things to do during 2009: sushis, prosecco and Theory. We are ordering some sushi (with mochi, of course) and then heading over to Theory. It is one of those annoying cover, fight for drinks things. For most people. Due to our loyalty, I emailed the owner and asked if they were sold out on tables. Despite the late notice, he is saving us a table (I suspect creating it out of nowhere) and wants to charge us only 1/3 of the normal price. That, we won't allow.

In the abstract, my estimate is that this NYE will be the perfect way to ring in the new year and the new decade. I think knowing what you like and doing it is a way to start the year off on the right foot. Fingers crossed, the night works out according to plan.

Drama Drag: This Time With Pictures!

Its been over a month but I finally received pictures from Drama Drag: Africa. First, these were my Thanksgiving guests in their drag personas, Angelina and Kiera:

When I stopped by to see my brother before heading to the airport, I got a tour of their house. Last time I was there, they were in the process of moving in. Now, they are settled. Part of the tour was the garage, or as Joel called it, "the gay-rage." (Yes, I was mad that I didn't come up with that one myself.) Instead of storing a car or other such things in the garage, Joel turned it into a giant drag closet. Now that Walter is living there, the gay-rage is complete. They have far more women's clothing than me, probably more than my mom and my wardrobe's combined actually. Without a doubt, more sequin, fringe, feather and fake fur than I have seen in one place in my life. Ditto with the shoes.

This is my all-but-brother-in-law, Angelina SX:

A close-up is helpful. Note that even the contacts are Zebra-like.

My family, minus the males: me, Angelina, mom, and my cousin (who, I will note that now lives with my parents but I never met until Thanksgiving. Putting the fun in dysfunction):

This is an awful picture of me. As you can tell from my expression, I knew there was no way that I, a mere straight girl with only the slighest grasp of make-up could compete with these. Nonetheless, this is me with la Nina Flowers and Angelina. The scary make-up belies the super nice person beneath when it comes to Nina. That said, I have no idea how she fit the Africa theme that she set.

Finally, a picture of me and the photographer. I only realized tonight that her maiden name could easily be a drag name: Amber Wood.

Achoo-ho-ho!

In what I fear may be a pattern, I came down with a cold on Tuesday. As I walked to court that morning, I told my mom that I was feeling fine. And, it wasn't a lie. However, by 3:00 p.m, I had a cold. From fine to sick in 6 hours. A similar thing happened to me right before Thanksgiving. However, this time, I wasn't flying anywhere. The plan was to drive up to Wisconsin on Christmas Eve and return on Christmas night, depending on the weather.

Instead, I was sneezing and coughing on Thursday morning so all parties agreed it was best I stay in Chicago. So I spent Christmas alone with my germs. And, surprisingly, it wasn't bad. It wasn't festive but it wasn't bad. We weren't planning on exchanging gifts so all I missed out on were a few meals. For example, rather than our traditional roast, brussel sprouts and baby Jesus birthday cake (angel food cake), I had nothing but mimosas on Friday. But, I made the most of it, at least from a productive perspective: I did some work, cleaned out my guest room, did my laundry, and generally made things tidier than they have been in awhile.

I'm just hoping I don't get another cold on Tuesday before the New Year.

Ho-Ho-Holiday Week.

Today was a good day. Work was fairly quiet. The partners are partially out of town which means the potential for an unexpected meeting was less. So much so that I was able to join a friend for a late lunch.

The quiet was broken by an email reminding me of some outstanding memoranda and setting an unfortunate deadline -- Christmas day -- for their completion. 12-25 is a Friday and the person who set the deadline does not celebrate the holiday so not entirely crazy.

Today was also the day that new partners were announced, including a couple of my friends. Good for them. In a celebratory mood, Missy and I decided to play Santa and deliver our gifts to the staff of our gym. Perhaps unsurprisingly, we got everyone a bottle of prosecco. My old cheerleading skills came in handy this morning as I made the labels for each of 20 bottles. I think the bottles were well-received but I guess its the thought that counts if anyone doesn't like it. At least, I hope.

After playing Santa, it was only 6:30. We could have gone to Theory but Missy suggested an old favorite that has fallen to the wayside during the past months due to house guests, friends and other commitments. We drank a bunch of prosecco, ate a bunch of sushi (including my fav, mochi, for dessert) and watched two movies: Four Christmases (very funny, highly recommend) and The Holiday (not as funny but nonetheless cute and recommended).

Ho ho holiday week.

P. S. Happy Solstice.

Masquerade.

Tonight was a masquerade party honoring one of my friend's 40th birthday. The party was at Le Passage in the Triangle, beginning at 10pm. I don't like the Triangle and I certainly don't like starting at 10pm. I'm too old for that. In college, if I went out before 11, it was "so early." But, I'm 30 now and if I stay out past 10 its notable. But it wasn't my birthday. I decided to make the most of it.

I'm not the best with make-up. I wanted to do something more fun than usual -- it was a masquerade after all -- and for that, I needed help. As my drag queens were unavailable, I made an appointment at a makeup counter at Nordstrom. The girl kept warning me it would look like a lot of makeup (because it was) but I didn't care. From there, it was off to Theory to kill time until it was closer to party time. As we were walking and watching football, we got quite a few looks, including some disapproving mothers. We took that as a sign of mission accomplished.

We got to the club on-time. There is nothing worse than hosting a party and waiting for guests to make their entrance, fashionably late. The place was so empty at first that the only people there besides our group were two tranvestites. I'd call them drag queens but that would be an insult to the craft with the bad wig, clothing choices and the like. Maybe they were drag queen wannabes, judging by the dance moves. One was wearing wedge boots. I'm pretty sure that's training wheels for transvestites, easing into heels. Anyway, the night was fun and I think our birthday girl really enjoyed herself. Especially a video Heather made, collecting clips from our British birthday girl's family across the pond.

The only negative for me was around 3 am when I swear that I saw the ghosts of Christmas future. It was about five Real Housewife-looking, divorcee-looking, cougar-looking women dancing around, trying to attract some male attention. I know that doesn't sound bad but it was just so awful to watch. Women don't become That Guy at the bar. They turn into Those Women. My friends, Heather and Todd, witnessed the ghosts too. As a couple, they didn't have the same reaction but totally understood mine and offered to put me out of my misery if I ever became anything like that. That's what I call good friends.

Goodwill Hunting.

As I was growing up, my mother always dictated that if I had not worn something in a year, I needed to donate it. Its a good rule of thumb for me. I usually wear things to death so if I haven't worn them in awhile, its unlikely that I will be wearing it in the future. Its a habit that stuck with me even after moving out and my mom could no longer forcibly enforce it. So every six months or so, I clean out my closet and gather my goodwill pile. Unfortunately, I've lately suffered from execution issues -- actually getting the bags to goodwill to donate. In past years, I've been so lazy, I have actually donated the bags when I was in Wisconsin because I was going to be in the car anyway and knew where the place was.

After five years, I really have no excuse though. In anticipation of my mom spending more time in Chicago in 2010, I decided to clean out my guest closet, aka the place where my goodwill pile lives. My delay in donating meant that I had 7 rather full bags to donate. After taking a bag every day when I went to the car, I was finally ready to take it to the store. Google did the hunting for me. And, would you believe, a Goodwill store is just a few blocks from one of my friend's places. Now, I feel even worse for letting it collect so long. But, better late than never, right?

A Case of the Tuesdays.

Yesterday was a great day. Particularly considering it was a Monday. I started my morning with spin class for the first time in weeks due to sickness and travel and felt fantastic as I walked into work. I had cooperative opposing counsel and checked several things that had been annoying me off my work to-do list. I had lunch with a friend at N9ne and managed to be disciplined and not eat the delicious cheeseburger. Things were going so well, I decided to buy my Megamillions ticket early. And surprisingly, that did not jinx my day. The afternoon was fine and I even left work early at 6 to do some last minute holiday shopping before my holiday dinner with the Trump Girls.

Today, not so much. My workout was guaranteed sore muscles tomorrow. Turkish Get-Ups? Not for the weak of knee. I was PigPen getting ready: ran my tights (a tough feat in and of itself), found a hole in the side seam of my dress, and spilled my coffee repeatedly. Thankfully, I was wearing boots and a sweater that covered the respective holes but still. My work yesterday was undone when the client yelled at me for a mistake he made. (Totally fixable and the partner knew it was not my fault so no harm, no foul, but the tone!) I went to a lunch meeting only to be one of about 20 people who didn't get any lunch because they had under-ordered. I ended my day by revising a draft (no big deal) and more problematically, the draft's footnotes. I left work at 10:30 p.m., having revised 70 footnotes, only 430 to go. Something to look forward to tomorrow.

Unless, I wake up on Wednesday a Megamillionaire. $weet dream$ are mine tonight.

Holiday Cheers!

Tonight was the Trump Girls' holiday dinner. Given the various work and social commitments between the five of us, Monday, December 14th was the best we could do for a date that all of us could get together for dinner before the holidays. We will all be at a birthday party on Saturday together but tonight was just the five of us, doing what we do best: drinking, eating, talking and celebrating our friendship.

The Trump Girls are the best thing that happened to me during 2009. Girls who are unwaveringly supportive, diverse in their professional lives but similar in their upbringing and senses of humor. We've had so many great times over the course of the past year. In every life a little rain must fall but that never stopped us. After a rain delay, we kayaked the Chicago River. Despite torrential rain, we've attended the Chicago Magazine's Singles party honoring one of our own. Also in the pouring rain, we attended Glamorama and Fashion Focus Chicago organized by one of our own. In better weather, we had the Air and Water Show, brunch before the farmer's market, galas, happy hours, and, of course, where it all began, the gym.

We had dinner at Bistro 110 where just by virtue of being local -- rather than the normal tourists found on Michigan Ave -- we received an amuse from the chef (mushroom ravioli), an extra glass of wine, when my glass was the only empty but we didn't want to order another bottle, and free, delicious desserts. The conversation was wide-ranging, from an upcoming book, to holiday plans, to personal life updates, to Tiger. (What is a get-together these days without an analysis of Tiger? Holiday topic 2009, without a doubt.)

It was a wonderful dinner. And now, to assuage my yuppie guilt, the Greater Chicago Food Depository will get a donation. The Greater Chicago Food Depository is one of a handful of charities that I make an effort to support, given the good work they do to feed the hungry in the Chicago area. Whenever I go out for any sort of indulgent dinner, I make a donation at least equal to my portion of the bill. Having a delicious dinner and delightful time with my companions always feels even better when I know I've donated to allow others to have a meal they wouldn't otherwise.

Cheers to the holidays, good friends and good times in 2010!

How Suite It Is.

The Bulls stink. They have lost eight of the last eleven games by 20 points or more. I would not pay to attend a game with the way they are playing. I like basketball a lot but those type of games are hard to watch, especially for $50. Thankfully, I didn't have to pay last night to see the Celtics play.

One of my friends works for an investment management fund that has boxes at most of the Chicago sports venues. He was hosting the Bulls box last night. He had an extra ticket that I was lucky enough to get to use. The game was awful -- I've seen better ball handling by high school teams -- but I rather enjoyed myself. While my friend played the good host, I had all I needed for a good night: sports, snacks, and drinks.