Some days, I wake up in the morning and spend a half hour deciding if I will need an umbrella.  I never make the right decision.

A confession: I have a favorite Starbucks.  This is kind of embarrassing and is definitely a problem.  It’s in Belltown, which is also embarrassing.  It has soaring ceilings and pretty artwork and the baristas give me free Americanos when I look particularly strung out.  Despite my love for this little slice of Starbucks heaven, I have had to stop going there.  Why? Because there are never enough outlets to plug in my laptop and the internet is slow.  And, because I couldn’t handle the nice (but slightly slow) young man that would write me country songs on a regular basis.  Slow internet, lack of power, and overt nice-ness?  What a terrible combination.

Seattle is entirely too walkable.  Literally everything I could possibly need on any given day is a 10 minute walk from my doorstep.  This is making it difficult for me to justify the Audi that I so desperately want.

I know too many people in too many social circles.  That dude that wrote about six degrees of separation clearly did not do any research on Seattle’s population before releasing that study.  There are at most two degrees of separation here.  While this means I rarely have to fly solo, it seriously prevents me from ever getting any real work done.

Speaking of getting work done… anything besides perfectly temperate weather shuts the city down.  This is problematic in that it allows me far too much time to enjoy all the wonderful things this city has to offer.  Who wants to have fun when there is so much work to do?

The checkers at Whole Foods judge the heck out of me when I forget to bring an environmentally-friendly bag to carry my grocery bags home with.

It’s too easy to be a yuppie here.  West Elm and Nordstrom deliver my furniture and shoes to me on the same day I order them.  For free.  I can have a $4 coffee at any time of day or night.  It’s more difficult to buy non-organic whatnots than the other way around.

Seattle is justifiably famous for its “dope” music scene.  Sometimes, I listen to Nirvana’s Nevermind on repeat for an entire day.  I don’t know why this is so obnoxious.  But it is.

Seattleites are ridiculously smart and highly informed.  In order to have intelligent, adult conversations with people I have to read the paper, browse through blogs and twitter feeds, AND watch SportsCenter on a regular basis.

Seasonal-Affected Disorder is real.  Last year, my fish had it so bad he jumped out of his bowl.  Twice.

That being said… two days ago, I nearly posted the most skeptical blog of my life.  Jeff Renner and Steve Pool were calling for up to 15 inches of snow during what would inevitably be the “worst snowfall since 1985.”  Sitting at home Tuesday evening with clear skies above and not a snowflake in the sky, all I could do was roll my eyes.  When the next day’s classes were cancelled by 9:00pm on the same cloudless evening, I think I uttered “you have got to be kidding me” before calling it a night.  I was absolutely convinced that the forecast was nothing but a ploy to boost ratings during King 5′s annual “WINTER EXTREME” campaign.

48 hours later: I was wrong.  Like, really wrong in a way that I will rarely admit to.  In my defense, the weathermen were wrong too.  It was supposed to be raining at this point of WEATHER EXTREME 2012.  It’s not.  It’s still snowing.  It hasn’t stopped snowing since I woke up yesterday morning.  While I happily took a snow day with some of my old fraternity buddies yesterday, I have been contemplating only two things all day long today:

1) Has it stopped snowing yet? (Get up. Walk to window.  Look outside and sigh.  Definitely not.)

2) What is the best way to get to Seatac Airport when the light rail is down and you don’t have a car? (Because I seriously need to be on a beach. Now.)

Snow is pretty.  Generally speaking, I like pretty things… but snowfall is not one of them.  When it snows, your hair gets all messed up because you have to wear hats all the time.  Instead of cute heels and pretty dresses, you have to wear stupid rain boots with stupid fake fur on them and stupid puffy NorthFace jackets.  Not a good look.  Also, you can’t go running.  The buses run late and the chill in the air makes your nose run while you wait for them.  Dinner parties get cancelled (two in two days!) because people get injured while sledding and driving is scary.  Day drinking turns into afternoon naps which turn into waking up at midnight fully rested.  School might get cancelled, but deadlines remain.  It is A) very easy to forget you’re 50 days away from submitting three major projects when you are away from campus for 3+ days and B) impossible to write more than 3 sentences at once when it is snowing – this is not a great combination for the old productivity machine.  Cute pictures of your friends kids playing in the snow make everything more difficult to focus on.  Checking the weather, particularly on obscure weather sites, becomes the Most Important Thing you could possibly do (12 times a day)….

… sigh…

I am ready for summer.

[proh-kras-tuh-neyt, pruh-], verb, -nat·ed, -nat·ing.

“What you are doing right now. Get the fuck going and finish your homework.”

Example: You. You procrastinate. You are the example.

10:10 am: Air travel is fascinating.  Think about it: you’re trapped on an incredibly heavy steel tube with hundreds of strangers towards a mutual destination that means something different to every single person in that tube.  Some of them are thrilled to be headed where they’re going, while others never wanted to get off their couch in the first place.

12:20pm: I am going to be on an airplane with a man who has the most insane mutton chops I’ve ever seen. They are really thick and connect all the way to his eyebrows.  I can’t stop laughing at him and it’s kind of a problem.  I bet that I could have married rich or milked it here if I’d tried. Italian men love blonde hair.

12:25pm: PRETTY MUCH THE ONLY TIME I FEEL NORMAL IS AT THE AIRPORT

1:25pm: There is a group of young black dudes that are decidedly African American.  They are probably college athletes.  They are rapping.  I miss American men.

2:15pm: Flight is going to take off late.  Also, there is a topless fat Middle Eastern man in the cabin of the plane.  I’ve been on this plane for 10 minutes and already noticed a profound disregard for women in Middle Eastern cultures.

5:00pm: Those dudes I picked out as American college athletes earlier definitely are.  They are pretty cool too, but staying in Cairo. Whomp.

6:30pm: PYRAMIDS!

7:30pm: I am in a Starbucks. In Egypt. AND I saw the pyramids just under an hour ago.  Anthony Bourdain is a moron for coming here and not seeing them.  My Starbucks cost 22 of whatever dollar they use here.  That can’t be cheap.  I feel like a kid at Christmas right now.

10:45pm: I am back in a world where people say “pleasure” instead of “you’re welcome”!! I love Africa.

5:45am: If the Lady’s Bar and Da Pub in Cape Town were to merge into one and become a bus, then it would be just like the hell hole I’m sitting in right now.  I wish it were safe to take a photo because this moment is priceless.  There are bright red lights only, reggae music, and so much dust in the air that its kind of hard to see.  I am the only while person for miles and probably the only blonde in the country.  I know for sure I would have never found this place on my own; thank God for that nice guy who helped me get on this bus.  I really hope it takes me to Mombasa. Like, really really really.

5:58am: Cart of bananas just wheeled by! There is a guy wearing a Packers coat walking around.  My guess is he’s never been to a game.  Or knows what American football is.

6:15am: These buses put the most tricked out Cape Town mini-taxi to shame.  It’s like a ghetto episode of “Pimp my Ride” on the streets of Nairobi right now.  A thought – if something claims to be “ladies choice,” it probably isn’t.

7:00am: For about 5 minutes (half an hour ago), I was almost impressed by the fact this bus was going to leave on time.  It didn’t.  I’m not.

Noon: I am hot and sweaty and really just want a shower right now.  But… we stopped for lunch, which I won’t eat.  Bought a water bottle.  People keep calling me Mzungo.  Heard my first jamb, seen some cows, and peed in a hole.  Awesome.

7:15pm: HERE. FINALLY.  Will decidedly be flying back to Nairobi from Mombasa, which is beautiful.  You couldn’t pay me to relive that 10-hour bus ride from Bob Marley hell.  They’re kind of sweet here.  Gave me some OJ on arrival, despite the fact that my face was caked in about 2″ of dust.  Very excited to pool sit tomorrow.

Generally speaking, I can’t stand graduate school.  It’s tedious and difficult and time-consuming and has been known to result in an Excel-related eye twitch and library-pale skin that not even a weekend in the desert can rectify.  By the end of each of my four quarters at Evans, I have been so exhausted / stressed out / intellectually and emotionally vacant that I have a difficult time finishing sentences for two days straight after my last final.  Somewhere between weeks three and ten, I lose myself in action memos, financial statements, and strategic plans to the point where even my closest friends think I’ve moved back to Africa or Europe or Timbuktu.  But before (and after) losing myself in all that hard work, there’s weeks one and two… otherwise known as the best part of my every ten weeks (until I graduate in June).

Upon graduation, I will proclaim that I will not miss school at all.  In fact, I will even more boldly proclaim that I will never return to school again.  I will probably get a job.  I will go to J. Crew and buy new suits and sweaters and pretty dresses to wear to very grown-up happy hours that I will share with my colleagues.  I will move into a super adult apartment and outfit the kitchen with a Williams-Sonoma panini press, double boiler, crock pot, and fully stocked spice rack.  I will shun Starbucks and visit boutique coffee shops that sell sustainably sourced beans (always bringing my reusable tumbler with me).  I will go to my new job Monday through Friday and rejoice in the fact that I am an adult! A Master of Public Administration! A whiz in the kitchen! A responsible woman that will never spill her $5 coffee on her $600 suit!  After two weeks, it will become bleedingly clear that none of this is true.  I will tire of the way my coffee-stained suit looks under the neon glare of fluorescent lighting.  The panini press will break after making one over-spiced sandwich.  I will rue the day(s) I spent my financial aid on happy hour at Finn McCool’s (and Earl’s…and Shultzy’s… and Big Time…) with every repayment check I write.  After two weeks in the real world, I will realize that every week is the same outside of school.  I will begin to miss grad school and all of its deadlines and case memos and degree projects and bearded men.  I will yearn for afternoons spent scoping talent studying at the law library and think that maybe it would be a terrible brilliant idea to start studying for the LSAT.*

With that said, I give you my New Years Resolution for 2012: live every week I have left in graduate school like it’s the first two weeks of graduate school.

Happy hour anyone?

*totally kidding about that LSAT part

It’s been awhile since I wrote to you, but seeing as I didn’t find the time to come visit you at Macy’s this year, I thought I should probably drop you a line.  I really hope you’ve been keeping an eye on me this year, as I was on my best behavior almost 95% of the time:

• I went to (nearly) all my classes.
• I was employed all year long.
• I tried to fight only the good fights.
• I quit smoking.
• I lived in the same city for a calendar year (plus some).
• I got ridiculously good grades.
• I embraced adulthood by purchasing three kinds of insurance and getting a driver’s license.
• I kept Spencer alive.

As you can see, I have been an exceptionally productive/useful/awesome citizen this year.  As such, I have a couple of requests to throw your way.  I have taken care of purchasing some of the items on my Christmas list for you – I didn’t want you to have to bear the burden of tackling Nordstrom this week when you have so many others to take care of.  Plus, I felt the need to support the local economy and there is clearly no better way to do this than by taking advantage of the designer shoe clearance. And I needed those rain boots. Nevermind the fact that it’s 50 degrees and the skies have been clear for days; it is not possible to survive December in Seattle without purple rain boots.

I digress.  I’m writing to you, Santa, because I wanted to pass along a brief list of what I could really use this Christmas.  At the very top of my list is an Audi A6.  You see, I’ve kind of fallen in love with the one I’ve been loaned while dog-sitting this month and might not be able to live without one now.  I’d like it to be silver or black and would really like if it came with a gas card that would keep the tank full for at least 6 months.  I will settle for an A4 if you’re low on A6′s.  If you could outfit the Audi with a golden retriever puppy (and lint roller!), you’d really be saving me some time and money later this year when I will finally have time to go out and find one to call my own.  I’d like a little boy doggy that has been trained to roll over and fetch tennis balls.  Floppy ears and intensely waggy tail are required.  You must be wondering where I plan to keep this puppy and park the Audi.  Well, I plan to keep both at home with me and could really use your help there as well.  I’m in the market for a townhouse, or house, or condo (that is slightly larger than my current apartment but significantly less expensive) in either West Seattle or Upper Queen Anne.  Views optional.  Mini-yard with minimal landscaping needs necessary.  A tree-lined street would be lovely.  Should be within walking distance to at least one killer bus line that takes me directly to work, two bars (one nice, one divey), a non-Starbucks coffee shop, and grocery store where excellent wine is sold.  Free street parking mandatory.

I recognize that this is a lot to ask for, particularly on such late notice.*  But the thing is Santa, I don’t think I’ve ever been as good as I was in 2011.  Odds are, I won’t be quite so well-behaved next year and I’d really like to capitalize on all my brownie points while I still can.  Thanks so much! Love you lots.  You’re the best.

xoxo

B

* if two day’s notice isn’t enough, I’ll totally accept: Paige jeans, Sex and the City (Season 3), kitchen things, knitting supplies, a hot yoga package, or a Canon EOS Rebel T3.

Back in the heyday of AIM and myspace and instant messenger, I developed a penchant for completing questionnaires / surveys that asked you to divulge some personal information and then send it out in a massive chain to your entire social network.  They were horribly obnoxious. I was hooked on them.  Here’s another (for old times sake):

1)  There are three movies that I could watch in rotation for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Love Actually, and Harry Potter 4: The Goblet of Fire.

2) One of the most common questions that people ask me is if I prefer to be blonde or brunette.  My thoughts on this are that I prefer to be brunette because people take me more seriously, but love being blonde because people take me less seriously.

3) My life’s work is a 54-page collection of things that have happened/been said/are rumored to have occurred at El Gaucho in the past five years.  Someday, I will leave the restaurant for the last time, turn this collection into a book, and move to Bali with my profits.

4) I have run 9 half marathons in the past four years.  I just registered for number 10, which will be in Pasadena in February.  I hate running. I have no idea why I keep doing these things.

5) My favorite playlist of all time is also my greatest embarrassment.  It’s a collection of my favorite songs from 1999 – 2004, when I went through an extreme phase of teen idol worship.  It includes jams from the likes of Britney Spears, N’Sync (did it get any better than Justin Timberlake’s bleached/hyper-gelled curls??), Hanson, Destiny’s Child, Backstreet Boys, Dixie Chicks, Nelly, Puff Daddy/P. Diddy/Diddy, 98 Degrees, and Jessica Simpson.  I can’t believe I just admitted that.

6) I have kept most of the notes, notebooks, and letters that my friends wrote to me from 6th grade on.  Sometimes, I read through them and can barely decipher the acronyms and nicknames we used to refer to ourselves, our crushes, and our mortal enemies.  XOXOTTYL2PMORBSB! What does that mean?!?!?!?! Who is Peaches? Did I really have a crush on someone I referred to as Rocky? (Probably).

7) I am running out of ideas for random things already.

8 ) I like to build huge pillow nests in my bed and burrow into them for hours at a time.  There are six giant pillows in one of my closet that come out specifically for pillow-nest-building. I’m lying in one right now.  Also, I can’t say the word “pillow.”

9) My childhood celebrity crushes included (in no particular order): Leonardo DiCaprio (from Romeo + Juliet to Titanic), Jordan Knight, and Fred Savage.

10) Sometimes I’m amazed by how different of a student I am in grad school versus undergrad.  Undergrad featured me with unnaturally tan skin in a fraternity sweatshirt over a party top in the dining room at Chi Omega every day for at least 5 hours, not eating (or going to class) and gossiping about him/them/her/us. Graduate school features me with pale skin and a caffeine-induced tremor at Starbucks/the Law Library for 10 hours at a time before going to work for fun and passing out on my couch while finishing dinner.  I have no idea how I graduated the first time around.

11) It took 20 years and countless batches, but I believe that I have perfected the recipe for chocolate chip cookies.

12) Things I am excited for in 2012: visiting Trashles in Tanzania; Bay to Breakers in May; becoming a Master in June; purchasing my first puppy; wearing a tan dress, saying some words, and getting drunk at Brynn & Ryan’s wedding; the 2012 Husky football season.

13) On a related note: the Huskies will play in the Rose Bowl in 2013.  I’ve never been so convinced of anything in my entire life.

14) I have at least one dance party every day in my living room.

15) I love beach bumming.  If I could find a way to finance it, I would beach-sit every day for the rest of my life.  This is not an exaggeration.

16) I have been known to burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter for what might appear to be no reason whatsoever.  Let me assure you that there’s always a reason, usually in the form of a random memory or out-of-context spin on something I overhear.  Things that have prompted the giggles this week include: Collin’s wheelchair, dinosaur ninjas, a co-worker’s missing salad forks, Tim Tebow, Christmas sweaters, and a school bus of drunk Santas that I saw driving down 1st Avenue on Saturday at 11:00am.

17) I had no idea how difficult it would be to think of 25 random things about myself.

18) I do not understand Pinterest.  You like something on the internet based on someone else liking something who liked something because another person liked it. What?  I’ll pass.

19) In the past year, there has been a notable change on my Facebook news feed.  My friends are getting married. They’re popping out kids. Most of us have jobs. There are officially more posts about fixing houses/changing diapers/family vacations than there are about raging parties/Vegas vacations/spontaneous debauchery.  We certainly still have our moments, but I think we might be growing up.  This is a welcome development.

20) I love Keeping up with the Kardashians. I can’t help it.  If I had cable, I would spend most of my time watching reruns of this ridiculous show.  How could someone as normal as Khloe come from such a crazy family? Why is Kim crying… again? How much plastic surgery has that family invested in? These are questions that must be answered, and Keeping up with the Kardashians is the only way to get to the bottom of them.

21) The best day of my month is the day a new issue of Vogue comes in the mail.  I buy a bottle of Pellegrino, lie on my floor, eat saltine crackers, and read in silence from cover to cover.  Then, I have a dance party.  It really doesn’t get better.

22) My least favorite song of all time is “I Shot the Sheriff.”

23) I wish Gummy Bears was available for streaming on Netflix.  Also, Ducktales.

24) I have been dreaming about a pair of purple Hunter boots since the beginning of football season.  Today, I will go buy them.  This is an excellent decision.

25) I have kept every journal that I have ever written in.  My very first one has a unicorn on the cover and a tiny padlock on it.  I opened it up a couple of months ago and found the following entry: January. I have the flue. Sometimes, Erik is moms favorite but since I’m sick hes not. I did not break CrYstals fiingr. She is dumb and it broke on its own. I hope dad makes dads speccalty tonight with cookies.  Prolific journaling at age 9.  I still hope dad makes Dad’s Specialty with cookies tonight.  That would be amazing.

It’s easy to forget how important fun is when you have 80 hours of commitments per week to juggle.  Sunday Fundays fall by the wayside, friends forget your phone number, and the personal shoppers at Nordstrom stop calling to tell you they have set aside fun new shoes/jeans/sweaters for you to pick up.  Somewhere between the projects, events, work, seminars, and gym time I found a few minutes to have a ridiculously good time this year.  Here are some of them, in somewhat/mostly chronological order.

So freaking pretty.

And then… winter arrived.  Clouds rolled in, the Seattle sports scene imploded, Nordstrom sales people ignored me, and graduate school suddenly started to feel like a terrible, terrible mistake.  Surviving winter in Seattle requires a bit of perspective and a lingering memory; you need to remember the sunny days, breezy afternoons at the waterfront, and hours spent lazing around at Kerry Park in order to love Seattle when all the city gives you is grey skies and drizzle for months on end.  This week featured some of the worst weather of the year.  It rained. A lot.  My rain boots broke.  I left umbrellas behind in three different coffee shops.  Some of my friends that hail from places like Miami and Los Angeles threatened to default on Seattle.  (I loved every minute of it.)

It can be difficult to remember what makes Seattle so wonderful during the short days that make up the long winter season.  Here are some things for which I am particularly thankful for this holiday season – without them, I doubt I’d survive until the next sunny day.

• Rainy days that allow one to sit at home and watch Sex and the City for hours on end while working through the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle and new edition of Vogue.  Those days are priceless.
• In exactly 106 days, I will hop on a flight to Tanzania to visit my bff for three weeks.  While I am thrilled to see Trashles converse with the locals in moderately fluent Swahili, I am terrified that I will have to complete my degree project before leaving on this trip.  I should probably start making some progress on that thing.
• My job, which allows me to spend some time with my favorite people and earn some material for my future best-selling novel while saving up some cash for road trips and fancy shoes.
• I spend quite a bit of time begrudging the University of Washington.  This is unfair of me.  Grad school is difficult and frustrating and expensive and has consumed more of my time than I have given to any other endeavor in my life.  There have been many days when I want to leave campus and never return.  On those days, I make myself take a lap through the Greek system, down to Montlake, and up to Suzzalo through the Quad.  These walks remind me that the U Dub has provided me with some of the best experiences of my life.  I might not love graduate school, but I LOVE the University of Washington.
• Voluspa’s Baltic Amber candles, which make the world a much better-smelling place.
• Kettlebells and my good friend Shannon, who have together made sure that my body will never not be sore from a series of deadlifts, swings, and snatches.  Check it out.  It’s a lot of fun.
• Every day, I am increasingly grateful for the people in my life.  There are few people out there that can tolerate a person who commits to 80+ hours of responsibility per week while planning to spend two weeks out of every few months away and then spends her precious few hours outside of obligation with a bucket of Jameson on the rocks.  Thanks for sticking with me.  I kind of love you guys.

Taking the test

When I was 16 years old, the man who gave me my driver’s test looked like Santa Claus’ angry younger brother.  He took one look at me, asked me why I was in my dance team uniform, and then mumbled instructions to me for the rest of the exam.  I passed, but only barely after bashing the car into a dumpster while parallel parking.  At 28, the instructor took one look at me before glancing at his record book and asking me, “why the hell haven’t you had a driver’s license for the past seven years?” I responded with, “why have you HAD your driver’s license for the past seven years?”  I did much better on parallel parking this time.

Paying the fees

When I was 16, I didn’t know what a fee was, nor that it was necessary to earn your driver’s license.  Last week, not only did I find out that it would cost over $200 to reinstate my license, but that an additional fee would be necessary to use a MasterCard over cash.  That’s right a FEE to cover a FEE, which is composed of FOUR FEEs.  Being an adult is fun.

Buying insurance:

At the risk of sounding like I grew up in a bubble, I didn’t know what insurance was until I was 20 years old and bought my first car.  Sure, I’d heard my parent speak of it in the “oh thank God we have insurance” kind of way, but never really imagined it was something that I would have to deal with.  When I turned 20 and invested in some car insurance for the first time ever, I got screwed.  Big time.  I ended up paying the equivalent of 1.5 pairs of Manolo Blahniks a month for the stupid stuff.  This time around, I sweet talked my way into a legitimately good deal… which is still far too much money.

Soundtrack:

16 years old = Jay-Z, NERD, J-Lo & Ja Rule, Gwen Stephani, ‘N SYNC, and the Dave Matthews Band

28 years old = the same CDs I mixed up the last time I drove my mom’s Jeep legally.  Kanye West, Robin Thicke, Bubba Sparxxx, Fergie, Diddy, Jay-Z, and the Notorious BIG.

First thing you do with a freshly minted license:

At 16, I drove straight to Northgate mall with my dance team friends.  We went to Hollister and Nordstrom before having dinner at Red Robin.  I came dangerously close to missing curfew.  I came home that night to see a beautiful new Jeep sitting in my mom’s driveway. Naturally, I thought it was for me – the birthday girl who just got her driver’s license.  My mom had a different idea.  She’s bought herself – the hard-working mother who had driven a Subaru station wagon for 10 years – the Jeep and was gifting me the Subaru.  I was devastated.  How could she possibly give me the Subaru while she got a brand-new Jeep with heated leather seats and a cd player?!? I got over it, but only barely.

This week, I walked out of the DMV, hopped into my mom’s Jeep and drove straight to Trader Joe’s.  I bought a stupid amount of groceries and flowers and soda pop (which I don’t even drink).  Then, I drove to IKEA where I remembered that I hate IKEA.  I promptly turned around and headed to West Seattle.  I did homework at Bakery Nouveau all day long, giggling to myself about how cool I am now that I’m a real grown up.