North Maple Rag

I took a copy of People with me to gym tonight. I also completed the oh-so-challenging People crossword puzzle. Here's a list of some of the names that were answers to the clues. See if you can guess which one I found peculiar.

Yanni
Julia Roberts
Gwyneth Paltrow
Lil Kim
Rob Lowe
Dr. Phil
Idi Amin
Richard Gere

In the past two days, I've seen two fairly embarrassing things happen to other people. First, when I was at the gym, I saw a girl fly off of the treadmill (she screamed, it was horrible). Today, the chair one of my friends was sitting on in criminal law broke and he tumbled into the aisle (this was much less worse than the treadmill incident -- our class is pretty friendly). Both times, much as I hate to admit it, I chuckled. My mirth, however, was followed by a deep sense of fear: that could've been me. That fear was followed by overwhelming certainty: someday, that will be me.

So, I'm headed to the gym now. In all likelihood, I'll return with bruises.

Last night I was feeling good. My Thanksgiving weekend had gone according to plan. I spent a lot of time at the library and even more time at my desk studying, I'd had two great workouts at the gym and I'd even found a little time to do some online Christmas shopping. I felt productive, alert, prepared, and powerful (I've been missing crew, so I've started using the erg machine at the gym -- while my back and shoulders are sore, I'll soon be telling people to check out my "guns").

This morning, I went to class and all those good feelings disappeared when I heard a few of my classmates talking about their outlines. I had what I think is an important realization: the vast majority of my classmates are going to be at least as prepared as me. Gradewise, that means that the goal of the studying I've done so far and the studying I'm planning to do during the next couple of weeks is not to help me get a good grade on the test, it's simply to guarantee me a shot at a good grade. I think our actual grades will be determined by who is thinking and writing the most clearly during the roughly 15 hours that we're actually being tested.

While I'm not feeling as great as I was last night, I am feeling a bit more relaxed. I don't doubt my ability to do the work necessary to learn this material, but I also don't know how all this will play out on the exams. Generally, I'm good at taking tests and I'm good at staying calm under pressure. So, I guess my focus is the same as it was before -- to feel comfortable with the material and be able to explain it coherently. I've just decided to delay putting too much pressure on myself until the actual exams -- that's when it counts.

Those of you who are discerning readers (since the only people who read this are my friends, that probably refers to all of you) may have noticed that "North Maple" has become "North Maple Rag." I neglected to explain my title when I started this thing, so I've decided that that minor change is a sufficient justification for a brief explanation now.

First, I grew up on North Maple Street and I lived in the house there from the day I came home from the hospital to the day I left for college. So, "North Maple" is simply a not-so-creative reference to where I'm from. You know how they say you should only write what you know? Well, that's basically what I was thinking about when I chose the title.

Second, I added "Rag" part today after I had the thought that "North Maple" sounds a bit like a jazz song (sort of like Maple Leaf Rag). Also, "rag" is casual word for "newspaper," so it seems appropriate for this casual account of my life. In addition, I checked out other definitions at Merriam-Webster and found that the British use "rag" as slang for "an outburst of boisterous fun." That's cool. This blog hasn't been all that boisterous so far, but maybe that's a good goal.

Finally, I'm hoping that having a jazzy title will prompt readers to use "jazz hands" both when they read my blog and discuss it with others. Practice now.

I stayed at the library tonight until the point when the words on my computer screen no longer had meaning. I'd spent about five hours sorting out personal jurisdiction and Rule 12 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure for my outline and at exactly the time when I should've moved on to the rules regarding discovery, I reached my knowledge capacity. I'm hoping I'm just temporarily full and that my brain will find room for new information before I go back to the library tomorrow morning.

When I got back to my apartment, I decided to reward myself with a half-hour to read this really dumb novel I love. Those words no longer had meaning either. I can't believe I've lost the ability to read chic lit. I put the book down and tried to blog about some funny things I saw at the gym today. I had to stop when I couldn't come up with the word, "flail." Finals will be over three and a half weeks from now, but I'm a little worried the damage might be permanent.

One of my friends who visited me this week left 1300 new songs on my itunes and I've spent the last half-hour updating my "Favorites" playlist. It's a pretty good list. There are lots of classics (Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, Johnny Cash), a nice country and bluegrass selection (Lucinda Williams, The Be Good Tanyas, John Hiatt), and even a bit of new music so I can pretend I'm hip (The Shins, The Postal Service).

The best part is that my roommate's still out of town, so I can sing along as loudly and obnoxiously as I want and as anyone who's heard me sing knows, that's something I should do only when alone. I'm currently singing Rocky Raccoon and am looking forward to whatever shuffle play presents next. Oooh, Minneapolis by Lucinda, it's a little depressing, but delightful.

I've really enjoyed having an empty apartment today. I haven't lived alone since senior year of college and while I've had three great roommates since then, not having to share is pretty fantastic. So yeah, I've got about seven days worth of new music and and the place to myself. If it weren't for the semester's worth of law I have to learn, this would be a great weekend.

Yesterday, I saw a Mark Rothko poster in a friend's apartment and it reminded me how much I miss the Hirschhorn Museum, one of my favorite places in Washington, DC. When I was feeling particularly stressed, I would go to the Hirschhorn just to see this one Rothko painting, Blue, Orange, Red. I'm still not sure exactly what it was about it, but that painting always made me feel calm. After a while, I bought a postcard of it and tacked it up at my desk at work. It was less effective than the original, but still helpful.

I think I need to start a search for a painting in New York that has a similar effect. I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art the first time I came to NYC. That was about 18 months ago and the only thing I really remember is the Frank Lloyd Wright room. I like most art museums, but I've found that modern art museums are usually the most fun. So, after Christmas, I'll be branching out.

In general, I need to find more places in New York that I love. A few days ago, a friend from high school who I haven't seen in years emailed me because she and her husband recently moved to DC and she wants reccomendations for fun things to do in the area. As I finished up page five of my list of suggestions for her (entitled, "Day Trips"), I realized that I knew DC pretty well by the time I left. The great thing about that knowledge was that I had a place for just about every mood. Stressed? Go see Blue, Orange, Red. Celebratory? Go eat ceviche at Guajillo. Angry? Go run on the C & O Canal Path. Tired, depressed, and lonely? Go get a Nobadeer sandwich from Jetties, sit in the basement, and watch an E! True Hollywood Story.

I think I need to have those kinds of resources anywhere that I live. So, thank you, Mark Rothko, for reminding me to make NYC my city.

Thanksgiving is a great holiday. Lots of good food, lots of lounging, and in my family, lots of board games. This is the third year I won't be home for Thanksgiving and I'm more than a little sad about that. Over the past few months, I've finally accepted that missing out on things at home is something that's not going to change anytime soon. Indeed, in all likelihood, it will be a very long time before I'm willing or able to move back there. So, today I'm thankful for my cell phone which will allow me to play a very small part in the festivities taking place at my grandma's. I'm also thankful for my friends here who have helped plan some fun festivities of our own. I don't know what I imagined I'd be doing on my 24th Thanksgiving, but I doubt Greenwich Village or sake bombs were part of my expectations. So, the mere unexpectedness of today is probably something to be thankful for, too.

Thanksgiving really is a fantastic holiday (especially if you don't pay too much attention to the Pilgrim story). I wish everyone a lovely turkey and stuffing-filled day.

It's also the feast day for St. Catherine of Alexandria! Oddly enough, I've had a couple of conversations about Confirmation names in the past few days and while I was able to remember that I'd chosen St. Cate, I couldn't remember anything about her other than that she was some kind of scholar. I did a little research, and it turns out that I made a pretty prophetic choice back in the 10th grade. Not only is St. Cate the patron saint of female students, she's also a patron saint for lawyers because of her incredible oratorical skills (she was able to convert lots of pagan philosophers). I'd also thought that her feast day was in April, but it's actually November 25.

So, as you're feasting tomorrow, raise your glasses to St. Cate, who, by the way, the Catholic Encyclopedia lists as one of the "14 most helpful saints in Heaven." Catholics are so weird.

In early October, I started noticing that once or twice a day I would lose feeling on the insides of my hands. In early November, I saw a doctor about my allergies and I also mentioned the hand thing. She was surprisingly concerned, and set up an appointment for me to see a hand surgeon. Yesterday, Health Services called to tell me that after "discussing my case," they felt it was better for me to see a sports medicine doctor. Ha. The only way I'm an athlete is if reading and typing have recently become sports. I brushed this concern aside, however, and agreed to the switch.

I saw the sports doctor this morning. First things first, he was cute. Very cute. Cute in a "I'm really young and while I know what I'm talking about, I'm not quite comfortable explaining that knowledge to patients just yet" kind of way. After several arm and hand exercises, the cute doctor diagnosed me with Cubital Tunnel Syndrome, which really just means there's too much pressure on a nerve in my elbow.

The cute doctor then reccomended that I have their Occupational Therpist make me splints for when I'm asleep and elbow pads for when I'm studying. That suggestion immediately made me think of the scene from A Mighty Wind with kid who had to play chess in a football helmet. I think I'll pass. Besides, the doctor told me that so far, the CTS isn't affecting the muscles in my hand. If I get to the point where I can no longer bend my little finger, then I'll give some serious thought to the protective gear.

I was a littled disappointed by the visit. I expected that consulting a sports medicine doctor would generate at least one instruction to "play through the pain." The bright side is that having a diagnosed studying-related injury gives way more credibility to my stories about the stress of law school.

In unrelated news, I redeemed a gift certificate at Old Navy today. When I showed the cashier my driver's license, she asked me if I was from a foreign country. Um, no. South Dakota's far away, but it's not foreign.

I haven't seen my glasses in days. I tried looking for them Saturday night and just ended up smacking my head on a shelf (I had a bump on my forehead for most of the weekend). I've looked many times since then, and they're still gone. Right now I'm wearing my old glasses -- ones from an ill-advised college purchase. They kind of make me look like Ben Franklin. Needless to say, I don't wear them in public. This might create problems since I usually can't go more than about eight hours wearing my contacts.

Nevermind, I just looked in a box under my desk and found the good glasses. They must've fallen in there. I'd looked in the box a couple of times earlier today, but the glasses were caught on on a plastic bag, so I didn't see them until I took everything else out of the box. Yay! I no longer resemble a founding father.

Wow, this is pathetic. I hope no one read this entire post.

Last night, I had a postcard New York moment. I'd met up with a friend to do some grocery shopping (the excitement of my life knows no bounds) and we decided to do some brief browsing at Bergdorf's. After leaving the store, as we were walking on 59th Street toward Columbus Circle, I found myself caught in what I'll now always think of as "Thanksgiving in New York." On my right, a storm of huge yellow leaves were blowing off of the trees in Central Park and catching the light of the street lamps. Accross the street, on my left, workers at the Plaza Hotel were hanging long strands of garland and Christmas lights. It was very much the kind of moment I'd imagined I'd have as a New Yorker. You know, the kind I've read about in books and seen in movies. It's nice to have the actual experience in my pocket.

My college friends who were visiting spent a couple of nights sleeping on cots in my kitchen (these NYU apartments are pretty small and we don't have living rooms). Last night, one of them met up with some co-workers from his last job who are now living in New York. I went to sleep before he returned, but I left my cell phone next to my head assuming he'd call when he needed to be let in to the apartment. Well, it turns out his cell phone was dead and he tried knocking several times, but neither I nor anyone else in the apartment heard him. Being industrious, he wandered around until he found the computer lab and there, curled up in a corner, he spent the night. He was eventually awoken by a security officer and made up some excuse about falling asleep while he was studying. Luckily the security guy, who has probably seen far more bizarre things over the years, didn't kick my friend out of the building. I woke up this morning when he tried knocking on my door again.

After that, I said a temporary farewell to both friends -- they're in Boston for a few days, but will be back here briefly next week and went to the gym. I then came back to my apartment and spent most of the day at my desk trying to wrap my head around Contracts. I'm feeling pretty solid on the individual concepts, but for some reason I'm not making all the connections among them. In most of the things I've studied or worked on, my comprehension of the "big picture" has happened in a flash. Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying I understand everything immediately, it's just that when things finally start to click, it happens quickly (in my college statistics class, for example, it happened about four hours before the final). So, while I'm nervous about finals right now, I'm not too stressed. Yet. If I'm feeling this same way two weeks from now, I'll be in trouble.

Late this evening, I watched Love Actually with some friends. That was fun. We made plans to watch the entire BBC Pride and Prejudice miniseries together next semester. It's five hours long, so that's a big commitment. I'm just happy no one thought I was a geek for owning the miniseries. Ahh, law school, a place where geeks can feel at home.

I might as well mention my favorite website, McSweeney's. I could say all sorts of stuff about the literary value of McSweeny's Quarterly or I could tell you about the related publication, The Believer, which I read when I want to pretend I'm smart. Instead, though, I'll just say that the website is very funny. I like Open Letters, Dipatches From a Public Librarian, and Reviews of New Foods.

Fishs Eddy is probably my favorite store in New York. I spent a little time walking around Midtown with my visiting friends this afternoon, and we stopped there on the way home. Given my own aversion to domecticity, it's a little odd that I have such strong affection for a store that primarily sells dishes and other tableware. Really though, where else could you get this? They also sell a lot of sturdyware (surplus dishes from diners and restaurants), which is cool, if only because "sturdyware" is a word thats sounds safe and reassuring. Anyway, it's a great store and sometimes they give student discounts and their employees are super friendly and they have great sales and their regular prices are very reasonable and that's enough ands.

If you're able to stop by the store on Broadway and 19th, make sure you also trot across the street to ABC Carpet & Home. It's a store I doubt I'll ever buy anything from, but it's incredible and it's more than just carpet, I promise.

Two of my best friends from college arrived in New York tonight. So far, we've just gone out to dinner and taken a quick tour of the Village. Neither of them have ever been to New York before, so walking around with them is pretty fun. I've only been here three months and I already have a habit of blocking out my surroundings as I walk from place to place. My friends, on the other hand, notice everything. We walked past a beautiful church that I would've missed on my own and I was totally oblivious to the movie trailers until one of them pointed them out.

I really need to spend more time enjoying New York. The city was a huge factor in my decision to go to NYU and I've spent too much time ignoring it. Unfortunately, I think I have to spend the next month living and breathing finals and I fly home less than 24 hours after my last test. Luckily, I'm coming back to New York almost a week before classes start, so I think I'll spend that week being a tourist. I've never even been to the top of the Empire State Building. That's terrible.

Earlier today, my Lawyering professor read to my class part of the conclusions from a psychological study regarding people's ability to predict their own happiness and sadness. Basically, the study found that we are, in general, pretty lousy at predicting our feelings. That conclusion makes sense; at least, in my experience, the most joyous and the most devastating events are unexpected.

That said, there are some exceptions, and for me, there's one primary exception: soup. Yup, good soup will always make me happy. Right now, I'm in a cheery mood for the first time all day and that feeling is directly related to the cup of Moroccan Lamb soup I just finished. What's more, I walked to the soup place expressly because I knew soup would cheer me up (take that, psychological study). Even better, the very friendly soup lady*, who speaks with a fun Brazilian accent, gave me an extra cup of soup for free. So, should tomorrow be kind of dreary like today, I'm prepared.

* The soup lady's soup place is located at the corner of Mercer and Prince (I think) in SoHo. Her best soup is Turkey Gumbo, although that's not always available. I also recommend the Beef & Potato and, of course, the Moroccan Lamb.

I finally gave in and put down a deposit on my BarBri course. Supposedly, I'll save a couple hundred dollars in 2007. I'm suspicious. When I paid, they gave me a two-inch thick book of first-year review outlines. There's no way I'm ever opening this book. They also gave me a schedule of review lectures I can attend. Again, I'm suspicious. Maybe I'm foolish, but it seems like my time might be better spent rereading cases and going over old tests than listening to someone other than my professor condense the class into six hours. Thing is, lots of people are going to these review sessions, so now I feel like I need to, too. I've already given in once and paid the stupid $100, it seems like it's just a matter of time before I'm spending a Saturday listening to someone drone on about Civil Procedure.

The best part of my day was the hour I spent google-stalking. One of my friends is working on organizing a reunion of all the people from our high school debate team and since I've only kept in touch with a handful of people from the Class of '98, I didn't have many email addresses to share with her. Hence, the google-stalking.

I started out by making a list of everyone from the classes of '97, '98, and '99 that we need to contact. That didn't work out as well as I'd planned; I now have several entries along the lines of "that short guy with the funny hair who dated that girl." It's not all that helpful for googling, but the friend whose organizing the reunion will know who I mean and maybe she'll remember his name.

Anyway, my initial research indicates that a number of people are still plugging away at their undergrad degrees, a handful of us are in law school, a fair number have become teachers, and a couple of people have completely vanished. Many people are married. At least three have kids; I don't know what to say about that except that I still think taking care of a houseplant is overwhelming.

I'm sort of surprised at how excited I am to see these people again. Maybe it's because I'm reasonably happy with how I've spent the last six-and-a-half years. Maybe it's because I've changed a lot since then and I'm excited to see how other people have changed. No, that's crap. It neither of those reasons. The sad truth is I love gossip and a reunion means that I not only get to hear the scoop on the twenty or so people who are there, I also get to hear the rumors about all the people who don't show up. Hmm, it's true what they say: you can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

Today, I had a very grown-up day and right now, I'm kind of proud of that. I woke up reasonably early, did laundry, cleaned, dusted, and vaccuumed my room, and then had a lovely chat with my mom. Except for a trip to the gym and a couple short phone calls, I spent the entire afternoon and evening studying. Being productive on the weekend is very satisfying and almost fun. Call me crazy, but I might try this more often.

So I'd been planning to post something about the tragic lack of travel in my life, but then I remembered that I've actually left NYC three times since I moved here (once to D.C., once to Pennsylvania, and a short trip to Florida), so I'm really not doing too badly. Also, I realized almost everything I've written lately (whether it's here or in emails) has been about things in my life I don't like. It seems a bit ingenuous for me to be so negative; I like my life and all things considered, I'm a happy person. Somehow, it's just much easier to write about the bad stuff. So, today I'm making an effort to write about five things that are good. Here goes.

First, I like school. I don't always like the amount of work that school requires, but I made a good decision in choosing NYU. I'm also content with studying law for the next couple of years and the the prospect of a legal career is growing on me.

Second, two of my friends from home are going to be in New York next week. No one's visited me here yet, so I'm looking forward to spending a little time showing them around. I think doing that will help make this place feel more like home.

Third, I'm going to a particularly chic-flicky movie this evening. I think it's exactly the kind of fluff my brain needs to forget about the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure for an evening.

Fourth, I bought some Act II Microwave Kettle Corn yesterday. It's delightfully tasty.

Fifth, I already have a lot of my homework for Monday finished. So, I should be able to spend almost all of the weekend reviewing and working on outlines. I'm surprisingly excited about that and I'm going to get started on it now.

I promise I sent my school all of my immunization forms this summer. I know this because it took several phone calls and trips to the clinic in my hometown this past July to establish which shots I'd had and which shots I needed. Yesterday, however, I was unable to register for the spring class lottery because they claim I haven't turned in verification of my MMR or Meningitis vaccinations. I've now re-acquired all the forms and stopped by health services twice to turn them in. Each time the line to get into the immunization records office was prohibitively long. So, instead of sleeping in, I'm going back tomorrow morning. I hate this. I hated this four months ago when I took care of it the first time and I hate it more now.

Anyway, there is one good thing about the situation. I'm feeling a little more affectionate toward my hometown. I spoke with a very friendly and competent woman at my clinic who faxed the appropriate forms to me about five minutes after I asked for them. Stuff like that never happens outside of small towns. Since the election, I've been harboring a good deal of anger toward my hometown and state for their foolishly conservative voting tendencies, but today, I took a minute to appreciate my particular small town. So, that's progress.

I've just been feeling kind of sad lately. I think it's because I have fantastic, ambitious friends who have scattered themselves around the country. I mean, that's great because it means they're all doing fun, interesting things that make me even prouder to have them as friends. It sucks, however, because I no longer have a place where I feel naturally comfortable. Sure, there's my hometown, but the only people I have there consistently are my parents (who are great, by the way) and members of my extended family. My high school friends have all moved away, as have my college friends from my college town.

The distance between all of us feels the greatest when I have problem or dilemma, as I did this week. I have now had phone conversations with five separate people and countless IM discussions with my circle of friends about the dilemma. True to form, each of them gave me thoughtful and often hilarious advice. So, good job friends. Thing is, by the time I talked to another friend tonight, I just didn't have the energy to tell the story again. It frustrates me that except by electronic means, it's generally impossible for us to get together in groups. This summer I attended a wedding that a large group of my female friends were all able to attend. We were foolishly giddy about being all together at once, which became quite obvious, unfortunately, in our wedding reception antics. I guess I'm sad now because that feeling is so rare.

It also annoys me that I don't have a solution to this problem. In fact, I'm part of it -- I moved thousands of miles away just like the others. Sure, I'm making new friends at law school and they're bright and quirky and challenging, just like my old friends. Thing is, in three years we'll all scatter, too. So, that's what I've been thinking about today (other than the compelling world of Contracts, of course), the challenge of maintaining community without proximity. Like Contracts, I haven't really come up with any answers.

So, I'm still a little stunned that I have a blog. I really just wanted to post a comment on someone else's blog and before I knew it, I had one of my own. I've been pretty hesitant to start one, but writing regularly outside of class seems like it might be good for me.

I realized today that my fear of blogging is directly related to my incessant desire to control everything in my life. The idea of writing something that my friends will read without me being able to gauge their reactions at the same time is unnerving. That said, I've been working on accepting the fact that there are very few things in my life I can control right now and this blog thing, scary as it is, will probably help with that. Besides, I've been feeling more comfortable with law school lately, so it's probably a good time to try something new.

If you're one of the few people I've told about this thing, thanks for stopping by. If you found this some other way, well, uh, welcome.