Showing posts with label #tbt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #tbt. Show all posts

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Throwback Thursday

 

Eight years ago.

When I was still in law school.

When argyle sweaters were a thing that people still wore.

When Saturday night meant drinking and playing poker in someone's Upper West Side apartment living room

When I didn't know how to do curly hair the right way and ended up with whatever this unfortunate mess is.

When we didn't know anything but thought we knew everything.

When we were just babies ourselves.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Throwback Thursday: Blind Date

Ever wonder how David and I met?

Yes? Well, let me tell you. It was the end of my second year of law school and I was deep into studying for finals, sure that if I did well it would push my ranking straight to the top of the class. The only thing standing between me and greatness, I was also sure, was a pesky blind date that I couldn't say no to since my sister was the one who set it up.

So I put down my books, got dressed, and went out, against my better judgment.

It was the last first date I ever went on and I wrote about it a couple of years ago.

For today's throwback Thursday post, here is that story.

**************************************************

Blind Date

Rascal Flatts was rocking in the background as I stared at my reflection in the mirror and wondered what, exactly, I was thinking when I agreed to go on this blind date.

I hated blind dates. My middle sister had gotten married almost a year before, and ever since then, countless friends of my mom had tried to set me up with a revolving door of single Jewish boys. They felt sorry for me because my younger sister was married, and I was still single. The horror.

Forget about the fact that I was a 24 year old, second year law student living in Manhattan with my best friends. And that I had positively zero interest in getting married just then. I was a single Jewish girl living in New York City, and my younger sister was already married. It just disturbed the natural order.

I generally tried to avoid these painful outings, if at all possible. I had any number of excuses. I was overwhelmed with school work - I was a second year law student after all. I was tired. I already had plans. Maybe some other time (maybe never). And when none of these excuses worked, I lied, often and without a qualm. I was already dating someone. I just got out of a complicated relationship. And once, memorably, I don't want to get married. Ever.

But this was a blind date I couldn't avoid.

I had been hearing about this boy for the better part of a year. He was the older brother of my youngest sister's best friend. The girls were seventeen, and they and their friends decided it would be just so awesome if L's sister married A's brother. It was my sister, and I couldn't really say no.

Which was why, on a late April night, with my federal income tax final exam a mere week away, I was putting on makeup, when I really wanted to be in sweatpants memorizing facts about cost basis and depreciation. I had a real shot at Dean's List: High Honors that semester, and I wanted it more than anything.

I wanted it more than I wanted to be choosing between brown and light purple eye shadow. I wanted it more than I wanted to be deciding whether to wear light or dark jeans, and whether I needed a coat for the unpredictable April weather.

We were meeting for dessert, but were we sitting outside or inside? Would there be a walk afterwards? Should I wear comfortable shoes, or the far cuter heels I could barely walk ten feet in?

These were not the kinds of questions I wanted to be dealing with in late April.

For three years of my life late April was for dirty clothes, unwashed hair, and dark-circled eyes. For pens, highlighters and textbooks. For ungodly amounts of caffeine, and junk food when I remembered to eat at all. For cramming thousands of arcane facts and figures into my head and regurgitating the information on command in service of the law school gods.

No, late April was not for blind dates.

Yet here I was, dressed for the first time in a week, and fighting a losing battle with concealer on the aforementioned dark circles.

Screw it, I thought. I'm tired. He'll just have to deal with the circles.

Grabbing my coat and a bag I hoped contained all the necessities, I rushed downstairs to catch the bus that should have been pulling up to the curb outside my building in exactly a minute.

The bus was late. As I stood under a darkening sky, two minutes from being late myself, I mentally cursed my sister, and swore that this would be the last blind date I ever went on for the rest of my life.

It was.

That blind date?

Is now my husband.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Throwback Thursday: A Blood Drive Memory

This morning as I walked in to my office, I passed a blood drive being held in the lobby of my building. The blood drive is an annual event and last year I participated in it with some other people from my firm.


I am not the best at giving blood. Before last year, the only time that I had ever donated in my life was the summer between my second and third years of law school when I was working at a small law firm and there was a drive in the office park. It didn't go very well.

But on the off chance that the bad experience was a one-time thing, I decided to give it a go again last year. Turns out, it wasn't a one-time thing, and it didn't go so well.

But afterwards, I decided to write the story of that very first time. 

Here again, is that story

**********************************************

The Day I Should Have Eaten Breakfast. And Worn Pants.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the junior partner's car, it occurred to me that I may have been about to embarrass myself Above the Law style.

When I took the law firm job for my second law school summer, I promised myself that I wouldn't be one of those summer associates who would do anything to impress a partner. But here I was, a mere three weeks into my twelve-week gig, doing exactly that.

It all started with a firm-wide e-mail two days before.

There was a blood-drive in an office park a few blocks away, and the partners were asking for volunteers to get a good showing from our office. I said I would go. I had never given blood before, but figured it couldn't be that bad. I googled around to find out how I could prepare, and all of the websites said to make sure to eat a lot and drink plenty of fluids to avoid getting light-headed.

No problem.

Unless the day of the blood drive turns into a frantic mess and your ride knocks on your office door before you have time for breakfast, lunch, or your mid-morning snack.

I grabbed a handful of Hershey Kisses for the ride over and prayed to whatever god was listening to get me through this unscathed.

I was hoping to watch someone else donate before it was my turn, but no such luck. I ended up at the front of the line and took my seat, surrounded by twelve other lawyers from my firm.

The nurse hooked me up easily and as the blood started to flow, I laughed at myself for worrying. When the bag was full, another nurse handed me a package of Oreos and a bottle of cranberry juice and told me sit for a few minutes. Thrilled with the snack selection, I thought that maybe I would make donating blood a habit from now on.

The buzzing in my ears was so dull at first that I thought I was imagining it.

But then it grew louder, drowning out the chatter that filled the Red Cross trailer, and bringing with it a wave of nausea that knocked me back in my chair. I tried to lift my arm to get a nurse's attention, but before I had the chance my vision grayed around the edges and I felt myself falling back into the black.

My feet were the first things I saw when I drifted awake.

Confused, I slid my eyes around trying to get my bearings and took in the scene. I didn't have the energy to lift up my head, so all I could do was lay there covered in ice packs and drops of the cranberry juice I had spilled, my legs straight up in the air and my skirt inching dangerously high, as all the other lawyers gathered around me, their faces masks of concern.

And think about how much I wished I was wearing pants.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Throwback Thursday: Saying Goodbye 2 Years Ago

As I mentioned last week, for the next few weeks on Thursdays I am going to re-post some of my favorite older posts. The ones that felt important to me while I was writing them and the ones that touched me while I was re-reading them.

This week's re-post is comes from two years ago, just around this time. I was packing up my life in Manhattan and preparing to move north to our new house. One morning, about a week before we moved, I went for my habitual morning run in Central Park and I knew that it would be one of my last ones. So I ran my loops that I had run every day and when I started to leave the park and got to the top of the hill that led towards home I turned around and took a last look at the place that had become my home.

And then, I wrote this.

***************************************************

Farewell, Old Friend



When my alarm went off this morning, I was completely exhausted. I considered resetting it so I could sleep for another hour, but I didn't. Instead, I got up, donned my running clothes, and made my way to the park to run. And I am glad I did. Because this morning, more than any other morning in recent memory, I was thankful for my morning routine.

This is my last Friday in Manhattan. On Monday morning, assuming we are not all washed away by the monster storm headed in this direction, the movers are coming to pack up our apartment, and move us to our new house.

And I am ready.

I didn't feel ready last week, or even a few days ago, but now I do. We have been busy these past couple of days. Finishing up the construction in the new house, organizing the apartment for the move, and buying the many, many things that one needs when they move into a new house. And with all the preparation, I started to get excited for our new place, and our (semi) new life. 

And on this last Friday, I am thinking about my life in Manhattan, and my favorite place in the city. I have written at length about my love of Central Park. But now that I only have two mornings runs left, I am feeling the loss of my favorite place even more acutely. I know that there will be roads to run in my new home. I have even begun planning routes. But they won't be in this park.

This park is a part of me. This is the place where I fell in love. Where I learned to run, and more importantly, where I learned to love to run. It is the place I go to think and to feel. To process, and to enjoy.

And on Monday, I will run its roads one last time. For an hour, I will forget about moving vans, and construction, and new houses, and change, and I will run. I will join my army of runners and circle the loops that have become my home. And as I exit the park one last time, I will glance back for just a minute at the place that has shaped me, and made me, and helped me find my way.

I am forever grateful to Central Park. 

Farewell, old friend. I'll miss you.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Throwback Thursday: A Deep Dive Into Old Posts

I know that Throwback Thursday is supposed to be for pictures, but I decided to kick things up a notch. Lately I have been going back and reading some older blog posts of mine. I am coming up on my three year blogging anniversary, which barely even seems possible, and yet it is. Over that time, I have written and published almost five hundred posts, which also doesn't seen possible, and yet there they are, right in the archives on the side-bar of my blog.

In going back through some of these old posts I had mixed reactions. Some of them leaned more towards the "oh my god how could I ever have pressed publish on this horror show" side of things, while with other ones I was all "damn girl, you can write." Anyone who blogs on the regular will understand well these dueling reactions.

Every now and then I stumbled upon a post that I completely forgot I had written, and I thought that maybe it was time to give those forgotten ones another chance to shine. So for the next couple of weeks, every Thursday I am going to re-post some of those oldies because, why not?

Today's Throwback Thursday post was published exactly at this time of year in 2012. A presidential election was looming on the horizon and since everything that could possibly be written about was already out there somewhere, the news organizations were casting about for something new to write about that was a little more interesting than more words about Romney's hidden bank accounts or Obama's birth certificate. 

CNN won the game that day when someone who I can only imagine was either drunk or high at the time published an editorial about the way that a woman's menstrual cycle effects her likelihood of voting Democrat or Republican. The responses to the article were immediate and scathing and predictably, CNN removed the editorial from their website, but the damage had already been done.

With mid-term elections less than 2 weeks away, I thought this would be a good one to share today because two years later when it comes to equality and respect for women in this country we are still nowhere, and it looks like we have a ways to go before we get to somewhere.

**************************************

Beware of the Female Vote

In the current presidential election, much has been said about the female vote. What it means, who will get it, and how important it is. The candidates have spent millions of dollars courting women voters. At both the Republican and Democratic national conventions the candidates' wives stood before crowded convention floors and spoke about their most important roles: mothers. The candidates themselves spent much time in speeches discussing their own mothers, and praising their wives for the raising of the children. All of this, ostensibly, was to appeal to women across the country watching on TV. To me, it seemed a little like pandering, but political experts say that it works, so what do I know?

Well, according to a recent CNN editorial, it may all be for naught. 

Yesterday, CNN posted an editorial on its website discussing a "scientific" study that suggested that women's votes are influenced by their hormones, and they are more likely to vote for a certain candidate depending on what time of the month it is.

When I managed to get my raging hormones under control long enough to pull my face out of the Ben & Jerry's and read the study, here is what I learned:

Researchers discovered that during a woman's most fertile time of the month (i.e. when estrogen levels are at their highest), single women were more likely to vote for Obama, whereas committed women (i.e. women in relationships, not women who are actually committed, although with all of those hormones racing, who knows?) were more likely to vote for Romney.

The researcher behind this study, Kristina Durante from the University of Texas (a woman, God help us, so, depending on her time of the month when she wrote this study, maybe we can't really trust the information at all), explained that when single women are ovulating, they feel "sexier," and therefore lean more towards liberal views on issues such as abortion, contraception, and marriage equality. However, married women tend to take the opposite viewpoint because they are overcompensating for those pesky hormones that are telling them to have sex with other men. Basically, married, ovulating women will vote for Romney as a way of "convincing themselves that they're not the type to give in to such sexual urges." 

So Romney, you may want to start that matchmaking service right away to get women married before election day. But please, for the love of all that is holy, make sure those women are marrying men. Because if they marry other women, that household will have DOUBLE the hormones coursing about. The horror.

And Obama, turns out that you might want to dial it down on the "let everyone marry, marriage equality" shtick - because married ladies are so less likely to vote for you. 

I mean, I'm married, and I'm surprised that I can even find my WAY to the voting booth when it's that time of the month, much less make an educated decision about a candidate. Because really, all I want to be doing is sitting on the couch in sweatpants, up to my neck in french fries and chocolate, sobbing big fat tears as I watch The Notebook over and over again.

It's pure insanity that women are able to own property, walk the streets unaccompanied, and work for a living amid these raging hormones, much less pull a lever to choose the leader of the free world. 

Look, I get that the debates are over, and election day is just over the horizon, and the cable news networks are running out of things to talk about. But honestly, CNN, can't you do better than this? 

The backlash to this article was instantaneous, prompting CNN to remove the article from its website, stating that "some elements of the story did not meet the editorial standards of CNN." And the author of the story has taken to Twitter to defend herself, tweeting that she "was reporting on a study to be published in a peer-review journal and included skepticism in the story," and that she "did not conduct the study." Great. That's kind of like Todd Akin coming forward now to say he was just explaining the studies that have been conducted regarding pregnancy and rape, but doesn't really believe them.

Any multitude of things can influence the outcome of an election. The weather. Those pesky undecided voters. Spray tans. Debate performance. Hidden videos at $50,000 a plate fundraisersCollege transcripts and passport records. Men.

And oh yeah, what about the men?

My biggest problem here, and the biggest problem of the many thousands of furious people who have commented on this CNN story, is the idea that women are emotional, fire-breathing lunatics whereas men are beacons of non-hormonal stability. I can't help but disagree. I mean, have you ever watched a presidential debate? Or been to a football game? Or seen a GoDaddy.com commercial? 

No, men certainly have never let hormonal surges influence their decision-making. It is just us estrogen-laden women whose lady-parts run on overdrive when faced with such disparate choices during our time of the month that can't seem to make up our minds in an educated fashion.

It must be true. The science says so.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Throwback Thursday: Getting Fancy


One upon a time when we first started dating we went to a wedding together.

#wewerebabies

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Throwback Thursday: My Favorite Running Home

When I first moved to New York, almost nine years ago, Central Park was intimidating. Its winding roads were unfamiliar to me, and I lived in fear of getting lost in its woods. I didn't understand the walkers, runners and bikers that would circle its paths, and tried to stay away from it as much as I could.

But then something happened.

It started when David and I met. He loved Central Park and exploring it alongside him, the Park became a little less of a scary place.

And then, I learned to run.

If you live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and you run and you don't like stopping every two minutes for traffic lights and dodging sundry pedestrians, you really only have two choices. You can run the path along the Hudson river or you can run Central Park. Preferring to not run on a path that also borders what passes for a major highway in Manhattan, I chose the Park.

That choice started a love affair with Central Park that lasted until we moved out of Manhattan eighteen months ago, and continues today.

And lately, for some reason, I've really been thinking a lot about my old running home and my early morning Park excursions to greet the day with my habitual three mile loop.

In honor of the place where I learned to run, and learned to love to run, here are my three most favorite Park pictures.

I miss you, old friend. I hope I'll be seeing you again soon.



Thursday, July 10, 2014

Throwback Thursday: That Time I Was A Soccer Player


Me, circa 1988.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

An orange jersey. Shin guards. White cleats.

My dad running up and down the sidelines cheering me on, encouraging me to go get the ball, to get in on the action.

Me, far more interested in whether my braids were straight and in keeping my shoes clean than trying to kick a soccer ball.

Turns out team sports were never my thing.

Plus, orange was never really my color anyway.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Throwback Thursday: What a Difference Five Months Makes

I love a good snowstorm as much as anyone, but honestly...

February 2014

July 2014

February 2014

July 2014

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Throwback Thursday: Graduation Day

Nine years ago.

It was a raw, grey and chilly day when our alarms signaled the start of our very last morning on that campus. The campus that had loved us and nurtured us for four years. The campus where we grew up into different versions of ourselves than we were on that sticky-hot August day when it all began. We knew we were better versions of ourselves because we knew each other now and we didn't then. And better in other ways too, we hoped.

We got dressed, not daring to look each other straight in the eye for fear that the tears hovering just below the surface all weekend would once again spill over, ruining painstakingly applied makeup. These were the kinds of tears that overpowered even the most waterproof mascara. The kind that once started, would never stop.

That we were mostly all moving to Manhattan at various points over the summer didn't matter. Once there, everything would be different. Some of us would have jobs, and some of us would be in graduate school. Some of us would live together, but some of us wouldn't. The days of classes and cafeteria meals all together were mostly over. Manhattan may be a tiny island, but on that particular day, it was feeling pretty big to all of us.

When the time came we said goodbye and headed to our separate department graduations. We walked across small stages and smiled for the cameras our parents couldn't seem to put down and accepted the diplomas that were a testament to four years of hard work and classes and studying, but also to friendship, fun, and unbreakable bonds.

And then we all gathered back together to line up to march into the gym full the real ceremony. We lined up and held hands and started to walk as the first strains of Pomp and Circumstance filled the air. And we sat down in the rows and rows of chairs and half-listened to a speaker that I'm sure none of us could name today.

Then


And when the speaker was finished and the university president pronounced us the class of 2005 the balloons began to fall.


And through the sea sea of blue and white we smiled shaky smiles at each other, wishing for just a few more years, two or three at the most, on the campus that had become our home. That had given us each other. 

Today, nine years sometimes feels like nine minutes, and sometimes feels like nineteen years. We are different people now than we were on that happy-sad day. We have careers and houses and husbands and kids and we leading lives we never could have anticipated or hoped for. 

But lucky for us, we are still doing it all together.

And now.


Nine years later. Still together.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Throwback Thursday: Family

I have family on the brain these days.

The one I have made through my friends and my life in New York, yes, but really, today, I am thinking about the one that I was lucky enough to be born with, and the people who have come into it since then.

Once upon a time we were five. Now we are ten. And then numbers just keep growing.

These are the people I love. The ones I hold close when I feel alone. The ones I reach for. The ones who prop me up. The ones who make me feel like I can do anything. 

Who let me be me.



















Thursday, March 27, 2014

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Throwback Thursday


Best friends.

First year in NYC.

Drinks at the W.

Because we thought we were just that cool.