Thursday, July 24, 2014

Damn [I am] the Man

I bought a suit. And not even a cute, Elle Woods suit. (Although I tried a pink suit on just for kicks, but I looked more black-lady-going-to-church than sweet-optimistic-lady-lawyer.)
It's black and kind of ugly because lady suits are super difficult to find without paying all the money. But I heard that suit-buying was a thing to do before law school, so I did it because I am a follower. But I am now also THE MAN. I'm a Suit. I am the establishment I have been anti for some time. 

This really doesn't jibe with my V for Vendetta, anti-authority lifestyle of which I dream. 
But that lifestyle doesn't really square with my other dream to be an incredibly wealthy stay-at-home mom of a million children, so I guess I'm in a quandary. I'm telling myself that I'm going to kill it from the inside, Edward Snowden-style. But let's be realistic; my mind is pretty malleable. THE MAN will break me within the first semester. Next time you see me, I'll be droning on (see what I did there? drone? THEY'RE WATCHING.) about the beauty of the American legal system and the perfection that is our checks & balances (HA!). If you're around when this happens, I give you permission to double tap me, a la Zombieland.

My only hope is that, in a sea of faceless suits, I will be anonymous and the path of sabotage & obstruction I wreak will go unnoticed. The American Dream.  

Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Wild Rover

My big vacation this year wasn't warm, tropical and beachy, by any means. Which meant that I went in a different direction for preparing le bod for the summer. Bikini ready? Psh. 
I got my body CAFTAN ready.
 Step 1: Eat anything you want. 
Step 2: Wrap yourself in a giant, gauzy bathrobe. (Turban optional.)

Just keeding. I did just get back from the least-summery summer vacay, though. Packing for Ireland was a bit of an endeavor; I had to dig out my Texas-winter clothing to find things suitable for Irish-summer weather. As someone who loves cold weather and doesn't see nearly enough of it, that was just fine by me. 

Mumsie & I chose to do a coach tour around the whole of Ireland because we really didn't want to rent our own car and drive on the wrong side of the road. That would only have ended with one or both of us crying in a ditch surrounded by sheep.
This was our itinerary. So much bus. So much green. So much sheeps.  
Trinity College Library & my boy, Homer. I die. 

This tour was such a lesson in patience. 

1: Old people everywhere. I knew that going into it, but seeing them in real life was totally different. I spoke with a man who had just turned ninety. NINETY. 9-0. He legitimately talked about World War II and the Great Depression. HE WAS ALREADY OLD WHEN I WAS BORN. Inconceivable. 
Glendalough, a medieval monastic settlement. 

2: The other travelers in our group were really confused when they found out that we're only the slightest bit Irish and we couldn't trace any of our relatives to a specific place in Ireland. As if the only reason to travel somewhere is to trace your lineage. #schmucks 
Blarney Castle, baby. 

3: Understandably, most of those Irish-ish folk were from the East Coast/Midwest. But I am unable to handle people from the East Coast, apparently. The group of middle aged sisters (I referred to them as the Weird Sisters in my head all week) laugh-wheezed like Marge's sisters from The Simpsons. And I was going to die if I had to hear the Midwesterners say the word "scone" one more time. It was adorable at first, but then no. 
Sheep herding & the mistiest Cliffs of Moher you ever did see. 

4: The lady assigned to the seat behind us whispered the whole time. She was traveling alone and we could never figure out if she was talking to us or herself. BECAUSE SHE WHISPERED EVERYTHING. Sometimes it would be reading signs aloud (in a whisper) or it would be telling us about her evening (in a whisper). ALWAYS IN A WHISPER. After the first couple of days, I learned to just play dead. 

The Emerald Isle & Giant's Causeway. 

But even with all the other (ugh) people, it was gorgeous and I am eternally grateful for parents willing to send me on fabulous trips. Especially since my life will be over for three years, come August. :|

Friday, July 4, 2014

First Impressions

Apartment hunting was a success. 
But that's not to say that I have changed my tune about Houston. 
Everyone who's told me that Houston's not so bad, you have a lot of explaining to do.
While I ended up leasing from the first place we visited, Mumsie & I still wanted to see more apartments. Except we were turned away from a few places because they just didn't have any openings and don't see any apartments becoming available--like, ever. 
And the one other place that had one-bedrooms was attempting to rob me blind. A studio for more than $1400?
Houston has a serious housing crisis on their hands, and I only care because I'm feeling it. I will be paying way too much AND still have to worry about burglars and rapists. Never the twain should meet.

And we passed a bunch of houses with concertina wire on their fences. Like this is Mexico, or something.   

Also, the hotel we stayed in didn't have much in the way of television. We were forced to watch this movie:
YIKES. I cannot stress enough how important it is to me that you never watch it. If you come across it in the future, and remember me mentioning it but you don't recall whether I loved it so much that I wrote about it on my blog OR hated it with all I have inside of me, here's a fun way to commit to memory my feelings:

I would rather CUT my own THROAT than watch that movie again. 

Those who know me have seen me T-Rex at the thought of sharp objects near my neck and/or wrists, so that should tell you how serious I am. 
Geena Davis, you should be ashamed. 

And then, the Houston morning news featured a story about a 6-foot alligator found at a McDonald's in the area. YOU CAN'T EVEN BE FAT AND HAPPY IN HOUSTON.

And on the way out of town, I noticed all of the hurricane evacuation route signs. 

Houston, you're just the worst. I will live in you for 3 years, but don't expect more than that. Civilization--aka DFW or San Antone--will be calling my name. 

Now I'm off to the pool to celebrate what's left of my freedom. #thanksobama