Daybreak

Early morning, milky
Silence folds a snowy down,
Rustles of stirring, tendrils creep
Comfort found in cotton mound.

Heavy warmth of arms encased,
Caramel butter against flushed skin,
Holding back the days' insistance,
One more moment in balmy din.

Easy comfort in finished dreams,
Sounds of daylight swirl around,
Day's beginning in sweet console,
Happiness is my lover found.

An overachiever learns to breathe out!

Since deciding to expand the goals in my life, I have been working towards a degree. My bachelor's did not come easy: I changed majors twice, changed schools three times. Not to mention the ocean that I crossed in search of enlightment. During each day of my undergraduate experience, one thing has remained the same: I have always tried really, REALLY hard to do the best, get the best grade. So, now I am in a situation where I STILL am attempting to improve my grades, this time with the LSAT, but it feels different. It feels less, well, noble and more...optional. Yes, getting my first degree was optional, too, but somehow I thought I would have more of a rush having received it. I thought it may validate my other pursuits, my other goals, like Legos stacking on top of one another.
But instead, through all the research and prep I have done to get myself to law school, I bemoan the fact that I am not there ALREADY! I am wasting valuable years of my life when I should be out there, preparation-less but perhaps just as ready.
Okay, enough stream of consciousness. 

159 and counting...

On a practice test, I scored 159 today. That is the highest I have scored so far. Unfortunately, the schools I want to get into need a higher number. Working on it.

10 weeks and counting...

We have now been officially been man and wife for ten whole weeks. I am beside myself with joy! We made it this far without hating each other or regreting our decision. Goody for us! 

What is a Woman?

It is difficult to be a woman today. Not for me. I am lucky enough to have all of the following: a supportive family, an advanced education, access to healthcare and medication, hope that I can acheive my goals. But as I grow older, I realize I am in the minority. Around the world, women suffer terrible atrocities. In Pakistan, Rwanda, India, Uganda, Indonesia, Afghanistan, nearly every developing nation contains women who support families, raise children, struggle to keep from falling apart while victimized.
In the future of this blog, I am planning to write about my sisters. But I cannot begin to chronical what they mean to me without proper context. In so many countries today, a household containing only daughters would be considered unlucky. Our gender would bring our parents shame in the community. Our mother would vainly and fruitlessly attempt to redeem herself in the eyes of others, our father would see contempt and disappointment in his friends' eyes. If we were Chinese, who is to say how many of us six would not even be allowed to live past a single day? If we were born into a poor Pakistani family, would we get medical care when we needed it? If were were Indian, would we can get past the gender-determining ultrasounds? If we were from Uganda, would we be forced into arranged marriages? I realize that not every woman from each of the nations I mentioned face these situations, but enough of them do to warrent the examples.
As it turned out, we were all born and raised in North America. We all were taught to read, sent to school and expected to chart our own destinys. We are six women extraordinarily lucky to be in the positions we have grown accustomed to.
We are also six women committed to improving the lives of other women who find themselves in less comfortable circumstances. I am proud of each of my sisters individually, for who they are and what they doing, but I am also proud that we all look outside ourselves to the plights of others and steel ourselves to be of use to them.
I am proud of my sisters for their self-awareness and their empathy for women everywhere. Somehow, I ended up in this phenomenal group of women. We have a bond that is deeper than any friendship. We have a love that can forgive any tensions between us. You are each such a big part of who I cam that I cannot describe myself accurately without mention of you--of us.

Sisters

I spent some time IMing one of my sisters today. It was only a few minutes, but I love connecting with them. Each of them is a strong, capable young woman and I am proud to be part of this tight little circle. Eventually, I plan to dedicate a post to each of them individually. 

Tears, Teargas and Tequila Part I

Eschewing more elaborate weddings, M. and I wanted to have something small, interesting and exotic. We should have qualified just how interesting before we left. Anyway, we chose to hold the ceremony in Oaxaca, Mexico. My aunt Val has called Oaxaca home for decades. Nestled between seven mountains, Oaxaca has a reputation for temperate climates, unique flavors and gorgeous historic sites. And so, about twenty-five guests boarded flights to share this with us.
For the next few days leading up to our wedding, we explored the marketplace, local restaurants and churches while preparing the final details for the Big Day. Meanwhile, there was a low-key protest underway. Local teachers set up tarps and tents, camping out in the middle of Oaxaca to protest low wages. Val informed us that the teachers had been striking this way for years. It really didn't seem like a big deal. Yes, it was a bit more smelly and crowded than we prefered in the town squre. But most of our hotels and restaurants were far enough away from the center that these activities didn't affect us much. If anything, they added an interesting flair.
The morning of the wedding, we awoke to a strange new sound. In my sleepy daze, I assumed large trucks driving back and forth over the streets below. Disoriented as I was, I didn't ask myself why. Having many beautifying treatments to undergo in the hours before the ceremony, I got up and quietly showered, all the while listening to this strange, repetitive buzzing. I was starting to think it wasn't trucks. Toweling off, while debating the merits of waking my fiance by turning on the hairdryer, there was a knock at the door. A phone call for me at the front dest. It was 6:30 AM.
"Sorry to bother you," R. began, "it is just that we are getting teargassed over here." Yes. Teargassed. Apparently, the teachers had upped the anty from peaceful, grimy camping rebellion to a more physical aggression, blocking the entrance to the local municiple building. Thus, the teargas.
I awoke M. and shared the "interesting" news. It was raining teargas down the street. We had hoped against rain for today and the skies were blue but there was still rain. Stinging, chemical rain. A former marine, M. and another "street smart" friend who spoke Spanish decided to do the rescuing. Unfortunately, they know exactly where the hotel was located. Directions like "follow your stinging eyeballs" were not the most reliable indicators. However, I did have a map. So, off they went with a shaky, pen-drawn map and their wits. The next tense hour and a half I waited with my friends and family on our hotel's rooftop terrace, watching the police helicopters (which turned out to be the buzzing sound I heard upon awakening) drop teargas various places around town. They flew right overhead our clan a few times but thankfully decided against gassing us for the time being. I consider that my wedding gift from Mexico!
To be continued... 

Me

This was taken by M. on the first day of our honeymoon in Cabo. 

First Post

It is Sunday morning. I have just finished eating a de-lish breakfast cooked by my gorgeous husband. This is his only day off and right now, he is cleaning the kitchen. How did I get so lucky? Monster is funny, thoughtful, hard working. Swoon! Ok, enough is enough. I am mostly writing this blog for myself to remind me of how good my life is right now, but in the process I would be loathe to make a hapless reader vomit.

The dark spot on the day is that in a few hours I must leave for LSAT class. I have been diligently attending these classes every weekend for the past three months and have another six weeks before the Big Test. I have also been studying at home for hours a day. Trying to get a high score so I have options after the test. Pretty boring, but IMO pretty necessary. I am trying to think about our future.

The best part is that I spend a lot of time at the bookstore. I love bookstores. The coffee, the cakes, the new books, browsing. I swear, if there was a college where you read at the bookstore instead of going to class, I would have learned so much more in four years! The food is better, too!