hot fun in the summertime

Ahh. Summer. A time for fun in the sun, hanging with friends, and, inevitably, summer weddings. This past weekend the Evil Twins reunited at a wedding in Connecticut, dancing and drinking our Saturday night away. Some college friends were there, along with many BUSL folk.

It's always great to go to weddings where you know both the bride and groom. The bride was one of my best friends during blah school and she helped keep me sane during that extremely painful 3 year period. The Bride introduced the Groom to ET#1 and me and he even moved into an apartment just a few blocks away from our place on St. Paul Street. The ceremony was lovely, with another BUSL alumna belting out the Ave Maria while the (very large - 7 bridesmaids and 8 groomsmen) bridal party walked down the aisle. Really, JG should quit his day job and consider joining the wedding circuit. The only thing which needed some improvement was the weather -- it was 97 °F and really humid out. This was not ideal since we were taking pictures for about 3 hours outdoors. I got some disapproving looks from the Matrons of Honor when I decided to kick off my shoes (my heels were doing a nice job of aerating the lawn) and hike up my dress (it was 3 layers of floor length burgundy polyester chiffon and I was roasting). Oh well.

The Matrons of Honor (a fitting title if there ever was one) (MOHs) said some stuff about the bride that got me thinking about how much people change and how your friends from your various stages in life know a different person than those from other stages of your life. The MOHs were a nice enough pair, although a bit too touchy feely for my tastes. I mean really, do 30 year old women need to constantly be walking hand in hand and calling each other sweetie and honey? Weird. The MOHs grew up with the Bride in central Connecticut, outside Hartford. The town of Farmington doesn't quite have the ideal Stars Hollow feel (but then again, that is a fictional town), but it did seem extremely white. So white, that even the Puerto Rican MOH looked like she stepped out of a Talbots catalog. Anyway, another Law School Friend was in the bridal party and she and I tried to make small talk with the MOHs. We asked them what the Bride was like in high school and they said that she was "much more quiet and not so bossy and definitely not as independent." They sounded somewhat negative.

The person that they were describing (Bride during high school) is a totally different person from the Bride that I met during law school. First of all, Bride is still pretty quiet and bossy is the last thing I would ever describe her as. If anything, she is too nice and needs to be less accomodating. The MOHs were not people that I could ever see myself being friends with, yet they are the Bride's closest friends. It got me thinking, would I be-friend (and be friends) with people from my past if I were to meet them for the first time today? Do we stay friends with people more because of history and shared experience than because we actually like them as people? If so, then that's a bit depressing.

I'm one of those people that likes to have their worlds collide. I constantly bring my high school, college and law school friends and friends from work (the few that are left) together. But, lately, I have been leaning away from that. In general, I think my friends are "all purpose" and I can just as easily go to a museum as to a bar with them. They usually get along with each other, at least that's what they tell me. So, why the sudden urge to separate my worlds? Maybe it's my new preference for hanging out in small groups rather than one large one--that way I actually get to talk to my friends instead of playing hostess. I suppose that means that I'm changing too. It's just interesting to see how we all change--whether that means ET#1's mid-year resolution to kiss a boy or my resolution to work less and play more. I don't know why I'm contemplating these things. Maybe all this heat and humidity is going to my head and I just need to eat some ice cream.

It's nice to know that some things don't change. After the MOHs forced ET#1 and me out onto the dance floor for the bouquet toss, we watched it fall to the floor right in front of us.

It's Electric. Boogie, Woogie, Woogie

I love to dance. Unfortunately, God blessed me with the rhythm of a deaf, Lily-Pulitzer-wearing, Greenwich Conneticut white girl. No amount of ballroom dance lessons, time at hip-hop clubs, or hours in front of the mirror has altered this fact. However, I cannot say that not being able to dance to has ever stopped me either. Sometimes when you hear the beat....

One of the few bastions for the rhythmically challenged are weddings. At a wedding you can say things like: My shoes are making it hard for me to dance properly. This music is not what I am used to. And my favorite, I'm drunk, wahoo!!!

Weddings also provide the greatest spaz music. Wedding DJ's are notorious for mixing it up: a little motown, a little salsa, a little disco, a little pop, a lot of cheese. My favorites are the line dances. Ever since my fifth grade gym class, I had this obsession with them. Come on, admit it. Everyone loves the coordinated motions of a large group. It is why movie producers stick dance sequences in teen movies such as ""She's all that," "Grease," and "A Knight's Tale." So when they played the "Electric Slide," I was so excited. J and I rushed to the dance floor and boogie woogied are 'til our hearts' content. The DJ then let loose a few recent pop songs. Usher's "Yeah" and Will Smith's "Switch" got C to show off her bootie dance. An older filipino couple showed every up by grooving to Gwen's "Hollaback Girl."

Everyone's gotta dance....Gotta dance....Got to daaaaance.

Hit me baby 1 more time (TV review)

I know I vowed to watch less TV, and I have, but NBC has been broadcasting a brilliant show called "Hit me baby 1 more time." It is a British import, naturally, because very few new ideas have come from this side of the pond lately. Here is the concept. Forgotten musical pop stars from the not so distant past come on stage to perform their biggest hit and to cover a more recent pop song.

The first time I saw it, I was simply flipping through trying to find something to keep me entertained or at least keep me company as I ate my dinner off of my TV tray in the living room. I did not mean to stay on that channel, but it was mesmerizing. I went through a rollercoaster of emotions, cheering on favorite bands such as Arrested Development or being completely embarrassed for Loverboy, whose members did not age gracefully at all. I started reminiscing about listening to my sister's mix tapes on her pink and black boom box she got for Christmas '85.

So a week ago when I realized it was on again, I forced my roommate A, who never watches TV, to join me in the dinner/ program rite of passage. Despite herself, I saw her rooting for Howard Jones and being completely distraught when Irene Cara won. "He played the piano," she said, " and he sounded really good. The other one [Irene Cara] was not even singing everything herself. She [Irene Cara] is just the most middle ground singer there. That's why they picked her."

Yesterday, it was my roommate, L 's, turn to watch with me. We were happily munching on salty snacks when it came on the TV. I convinced her this was a show worth watching and tired from her day and her run she agreed to see a few of the singers. She too was entranced. Once famous rock stars looked so gross and sounded so out of tune made us squeal, giggle and cringe all at once. When Billy Vera came, she said, "I love this song ["At this Moment"]. I am going to buy it on iTunes right now." Sadly, the song was unavailable.

So thank you roommates for watching with me. Next Thursday, I will be in front of the TV proudly watching this fantastic show no longer pretending I know nothing about it. It'll be the season finale, the last one, and this time they will have a special mystery star. Who could it be? The possibilities are limitless.

The summer of Evil Twin #1

Resolutions should never be reserved for the new year. In order to better oneself, sometimes you have to set goals, a list you can check off and feel a sense of accomplishment. So this summer will now be deemed the summer of Evil Twin #1. (Summer's official start istomorrow, although I have already began working through the list since Memorial Day.) The following of are some of the things I plan to do in no particular order.

- Wear a skirt at least once a week. Shorts will be relegated for weekends or activities in which wearing a skirt would cause accidental panty flashing.

- Kiss a boy. Maybe even a little rated R groping.

- Write first first author research paper, submit and get it accepted.

- Venture to beach with bikini. A must do before cellulite takes over whole body from the patch on upper thigh.

- Dance the funky chicken/electric slide at a wedding.

- Watch less TV. Movies are not included as they are normally social events.

Feel free to make this your summer too. Share your list. It's going to be a wild three months.

A Day in the Park

Last weekend I finally made it to "Game Day" which is pretty self explanatory. It's a bunch of people who get together once a month to play games. They have been inviting me to Game Day since February and I was thrilled to be able to go. This month's game day was in Astoria Park--in my old 'hood.

I must say, Astoria has changed a lot since I lived there with friends immediately post-college. It's hard to believe that it's been 5 years since I left Astoria and even harder to believe that we graduated from college 7 years ago. While there are still a lot of Greek people there, Astoria is now over run with yuppie families and their kids in strollers. Last Sunday, Astoria Park played host to 3 hours of Apples to Apples and Catchphrase. At first, we split people into obvious teams: girls vs. boys. Then we went to the less obvious teams: t-shirts vs. tank tops; denim vs. non-denim; white vs. non-white; and straight vs. gay. The winners were gay, tank top, non- denim wearing white folk. In between games we snacked on chips, fruit, and other treats--I suppose we could have split the teams according to eating habits as well--the healthy fruity types, the salty snack fans, and the chocoholics. Strangely enough, I was in the mood for fruit on Sunday.

I hope to make it to next month's Game Day. It was a great way to spend some time outdoors and meet some new people. Plus, it gave me an excuse to post a picture--since Evil Twin #1 tells me that the Mango Avenger has been clammoring for more photos. So, that was last weekend. Hmm. . . when Evil Twin #1 was in town we played card games over Memorial Day. I hope that this trend continues and that there will be many more games to be played.


Evil Twin #2 scrutinizing her hand

the man is watching. . . err, listening

The other day, I was doing what every overpaid corporate lawyer who bills out at about $300/hour should be doing. I was making copies. As I was waiting for my job to finish, a partner (who happens to be the administrative head of the dept--I'm not quite sure what that means, other than he can get me fired) who is usually pretty soft spoken and quite reserved tapped me on the shoulder and exclaimed:

Partner: [EVIL TWIN #2]!!

Me: Umm. . . hi, [partner].

Partner: So, I accidentally invaded your privacy yesterday.

Me: Say what?? I mean, what do you mean? (I am very eloquent when surprised)

Partner: When I logged into i-tunes this morning I had about 900 songs available that I've never seen before.

Me: Oh? Really?

Partner: There was some really good stuff on there, so I just kept listening.

Me: Uh-huh.

Partner: And then it cut me off.

Me: Yeah?

Partner: And then when I logged on today, there it was. And it was called [ETwin#2].

Me: What?? So you had access to my library? (as I wondered what else he had access to)

Partner: I guess so. Anyway, can I get a copy of your playlist?

Me: Sure.

Partner: It probably cut me off when you logged off. Now I know when you are here and when you aren't. . .

Me: nervous laughter

The lesson learned from this? Figure out how to turn off the file sharing function on i-tunes and don't download stuff onto the shared drive at work. Anyway, I have not logged out of my computer since this conversation. So, this means that I am "always at work" like every good young associate should be!

Calling Dr. Dave to the ER

This weekend was absolutely lovely. On Saturday night, my friend G and I went go see Frankie Valli sans the Four Seasons at the Hatch shell. It was one of those free summer outdoor concerts. We brought a picnic and watched the children, bikers, geriatrics, etc. do that thing they do. And who doesn't love the oldies, you can sing along to all the songs swqy ans sanp your fingees. On Sunday night, A and I went to go see a lab mate play at the Middle East. It was a very hip event, listening to indie/folk rock with a beer in hand. Two very different musical events, but both fantastic.

So like most things in life, the good is balanced out with the bad. On Sunday night, after returning from our concert I decided I wanted to try a little of the lemonade pie I made earlier. It would be cool and refreshing after walking in the muggy night. Attempting to get throughout the graham cracker crust was slightly challenging and the knife I used pierced through the tin cut my finger. "F@#$" I thought or actually must of screamed as A came running into the kitchen to see what was wrong. While A thought I should go to the emergency room, I thought I would be fine.

This morning I went to Health Services and they were shocked at the cut and its depth. They sent me to ER to get it sutured. Well, alright if I had gone last night I could have saved myself some time, but really how important is the index finger on your non-dominant hand. I waited for hours in the ER waiting room when finally I was called to enter the double doors with the hallowed examining rooms. Actually, my examining room was a gurny in the hallway. I waited for another thirty minutes before someone came up and said "Um ...Hi my name is Dr. Dave..Ummm What seems to be the problem?"

I looked up and to my dismay I saw a clean shaven boy perhaps no older than 26. Since he really did refer to himself as "Dr. Dave," my apprehension about being there expolded. "Crap. Its June," I thought or actually said outloud because he replied. " Oh don't worry the change over is on June 24th so I've been a surgical intern for a year now. trust me I now what I am doing."

I felt kind of bad so I kept my mouth shut and let him examine my finger. Dr. Dave then explained how he was going to numb my finger and put in some stitches. He went back to consult the attending doctor and the two of them came out to talk to me. (BTW I heard their conversation in full and really when you hear some one say 29 year old female presents with deep laceration in 2nd digit due to cutting a pie. It is kind of funny.)

The attending informed me that there was nothing they could do, I should have come earlier to the ER. (For instance, when A told me to) So for now I had to take a course of antibiotics and get it looked at by a surgeon in two days. Essentially the whole morning was waste of my time.

The two disappeared and 5 minutes later Dr. Dave popped his head back in and asked if I rather codeine or percoset. To which I replied, "For a finger. Don't be ridiculous."

I heard more rumblings as Dr. Dave talked to the attending and said " I know this is only a laceration, but what else should I do?"

The attending seemed to be fed up as snapped, "Listen, you should not even go back there just get a nurse to dress the wound and release the patient."

Dr. Dave replied, "Oh, I'll dress it myself, I owe her that."

Dr. Dave returned to the gurny with some tape and gauze and papers. I signed the release papers and said " Sorry, I got you busted."

He replied, " No, no. That's okay I 'm just not used to doing nothing."

Poor Dr. Dave. I'm sure he is great in a trauma, but he was totally traumatized by a small cut on Evil Twin #1's hand.

reaffirmation

While commuting into work together, the BF and I were reading a copy of AM New York (a high quality piece of journalism that can be read cover to cover in less than 20 minutes--it's free, what can I say) and we got to their summer guide section which had an article called "Creams to tighten and tone". The BF asked what the creams were for and I told him, "to combat cellulite." He then said that maybe I should try the NIVEA Body Skin Firming Moisturizer with Advanced Q10 Complex, since it was only $9.95 at Duane Reade, to see if it works. He thought that the La Prairie Caviar Luxe Body Cream ($300 at Bloomingdales) was a rip off. I just stared at him and was stunned into silence for the rest of the commute.

I think that maybe this was his payback for my making him watch the Backstreet Boys on the Today show and then the segment on "how to tell if you've got the right bra" after that.

At lunch, I was walking in midtown to run some errands and I got the reaffirmation that I sorely needed after the "you should try that cream" discussion with BF. A homeless man said that I looked good enough to eat and a hispanic delivery guy who was walking towards me called me "mami." It's nice to know I've still got it. Thanks, homeless and hispanic guys!

a conflict of interests

It is almost, but not quite, official. I am leaving my job. I will be following my super-specialized group and will make the move from one big law firm to another big law firm. The partner that I work with spoke to the powers that be yesterday and made it official. He is leaving... and the firm knows that if he leaves, then the rest of our super-specialized group will be leaving as well. I won't be giving notice for a few weeks (the partner has to give 60 days notice, I only have to give 2 weeks). It's just a matter of time before the word spreads. I don't think that people know what firm we will be going to. I've worked with them in the past and they seem like a good bunch--the new firm was even voted as having second best quality of life for associates in New York. Plus, they have a better bonus structure, so I'm pretty happy. That, and my commute will be shortened by a good 7 minutes.

The summer associates that are here have no idea about the impending mutiny. I feel guilty for having them help me on deals when I know that I will be leaving by the end of the summer. There is one in particular that has expressed interest in the area that I specialize in and I feel as though I am deceiving her (I think of her as "my summer associate" or "MSA"). It's a very competitive year for the summers. Their class has 27 people when we only expected about 21 or 22 to accept. This means that not all of them will be offered a job at the end of the summer. I think that the firm has been telling them that we want to extend offers to all of them, but that's a bunch of hooey. Really, the firm is looking to cut people for whatever reason and I don't want to give them any reason for axeing MSA. She is super smart and really fun and a cool person all around. I doubt that she'd stick around here for more than 3 to 5 years, but the firm would be a great place for her to put in her time, get some of the best training around, and pay off her loans. If she doesn't get an offer, it will really screw up her fall semester and it's really hard to find a firm job as a 3L (third year law student). What to do?? I am trying to encourage her to work with other people within the department and I hope she takes my advice.

and the hits keep on coming

Thanks to Evil Twin #1 for figuring out how to get the counter onto this page. I don't know when we started counting, but we've got 85 hits so far. Let's ignore the fact that at least 10% of that number is from either Evil Twin #1 or Evil Twin #2...

Study subject #29409

As a student, I live well above my means. That is to say I drink too much, eat out too much, and indulge in Filene's Basement too much. So what is a girl supposed to do at the end of the month, when she realizes that she is broke? Curb one's spending? Get a job? Volunteer in a research study?

The joy of being in a medical area, is the plethora of flyers looking for healthy willing study subjects. My friend, F, is frequent participant of studies (he has a high maintenance girlfriend) and has become incredibly savvy in the whole process. The following is his advice on how to choose a study.

1) Never participate in sleep deprivation studies. They really mess with your head. Plus, it always seems to be sponsored by shady government agencies like the FDA, when in reality it is being sponsored by the CIA.

2) Look for studies that require your bodily fluids. They pay more.

3) Only participate in studies that will pay over $50 at a time. Otherwise it is not worth your time.

4) An addition to the pay rule above. Carefully calculate the hourly rate that you will be receiving. Anything above $15/hour is acceptable especially if the study can be finished quickly, or there is plenty of downtime in which you can do work.

Good luck all, though I am sure most of you have legitimate jobs.

A Family Affair

My mother was in town this weekend and boy was that a tiring visit. She didn't give me much notice of her visit so I had to scramble to try to find things for us to do... For some reason, I was stumped when it came time to figure out what to do with her. My mom is pretty cool and I was thinking that we could do something low key like go to a bar and then to dinner. But then I thought about this and realized just how weird it would be to go and hang in a bar with my mom. Plus, there's the prospect of having random men come up to us, and then I would probably have to suffer the humiliation of having them hit on my mom... and not me.

So, instead, I bought theater tickets and made reservations at a restaurant that was a few blocks away from Lincoln Center. As an aside, can someone please tell me why there are no decent restaurants near Lincoln Center? I swear, that area is a gastronomic wasteland. We could have eaten in Hell's Kitchen, but I can't force my mom to run all around the west side of manhattan so that we can make it to the theater on time! So, we ended up going to Compass which was ok, nice decor, good service, but a bit pricey for the quality of the food. We got to the restaurant at around 6:30 and were promptly seated. I looked around the almost empty seating area and noted that this was definitely the pre-theater crowd and that I was a good 40 years younger than the average diner there. My mom and I also looked out of place because we are neither white not obscenely wealthy. But really, it was the high concentration of old people that kinda freaked me out. Why it did, I am not sure. All I know is that I am glad that these old people did not smell of nursing home.

A Light in the Piazza (which is nominated for a Tony for best musical) was just ok and I guess my mom must have thought so too because she nodded off during the first act/song and I had to nudge her repeatedly b/c she snores almost as loudly as Manolo. After it was over, we made our way through the crowd (again, average age of about 70), and back to my mom's hotel. She guilted me into going back to her hotel even though I just wanted to go back to my messy apartment and crawl into my own bed.

The next morning, her cell phone rang at 7:30 in the morning and we were up and about by 9:00 am. We checked out an apartment in Brooklyn (not too far from KenTak3's new home) that was holding an open house. Nice neighborhood, scary building. Nice view of the Manhattan skyline--Williamsburg Bridge, Empire State Building and Chrysler Building, but I just couldn't get over the smells that lingered in the hallway and elevator. So, I guess I'll have to keep searching. We stopped at Habana Outpost for some grilled corn on the cob before heading back to the city to meet up with some of my mom's friends.

We spent the rest of the day shopping. People say that I am an enabler when it comes to shopping. I now know where I got it from. My mom managed to talk me into buying a trench coat at the Prada store. WTF?? I wasn't even planning on buying anything. She was the one that wanted to go in there b/c her friend's sister's daughter works there and we could use her 30% employee discount. So, I bought a really great coat for 30% off retail. However, 30% off of fucking expensive is still expensive. I was in the market for a new laptop, but I guess that I will have to make do with my Dell piece of crap for a few more months. Damn. My mom is really good. What she said to me pushed me over the top:

Her: [Evil Twin #2], why don't you just buy it?

Me: Because it's too expensive!!

Her: But it looks so nice on you. You work so hard, don't you deserve to treat yourself?

Me: [in my head] Crap, she's right. I am always at work.

Her: Just buy it.

Me: Alright, I'll take it.

Man, this is the first time that I have had buyer's remorse instead of happy shopper's feeling. But, it was a final sale and now I am the reluctant owner of a brand spanking new coat that I cannot wear because now it is about a million degrees outside and it is too hot to wear it. Thanks, mom.