November 2007

Two Christmases ago, my mother gave me a handmade gift certificate for “5 personal training sessions at the gym.”  It was a very nice gift.  However, all the personal trainers who worked at my then-gym were super bulked up fratty competitive shouty types, so I was not all that interested in redeeming this gift.  So I didn’t, at the time.

Two Februarys ago, my seriously awesome grandmother died.  I decided to be proactive about how glum I was feeling by taking an early-morning yoga class at the gym.  Except they didn’t have any yoga classes scheduled for the mornings, only pilates.  “Pilates is like yoga!” I thought.  “I’ll do that, and there will be deep breathing and there will be relaxation and I will feel better.”

Except not so much.  Pilates only had 4 other people in it, and it was clear they had all been coming to this class together for a while.  The instructor used my total newbie-ness to demonstrate all the things I was doing wrong: “See, many people with not a lot of core strength can’t do this movement and overcompensate like this.”  “look how her spine is twisting?  Don’t do that!” “You’re not even trying!”   This, two days after Grandma Awesome had died, was too much.  I didn’t make it through the class.  Halfway through, I got up, rolled up my mat, and tried not to cry as I headed for the door and heard her calling after me “you’re never going to get anywhere if you keep quitting stuff!”  Pilates = not for me.

But then my sister started doing pilates classes and RAVED about it.  So did another friend.  And another.  Then one day, a couple weeks ago, I drove past a pilates studio a couple blocks from our house.  I don’t know why, but it looked appealing.  I googled it.  Good reviews.  I called my mom.  “Do you mind if I redeem that gift of personal training sessions two years later at a pilates studio?”  She didn’t.  (Though it isn’t technically relevant to this story,  I feel obligated to confess: I totally love pilates now.  At least, I totally love how fast it goes when someone else does all the thinking for you and just tells you what to do, all the while giving you little words of encouragement and correcting your form in a nice, totally non-shouty way.  I will be very sad when all my training sessions are used up and I have to start using a dvd, because I suspect it will not be as awesome.)

My pilates instructor (another brief side note:  if you had asked me a month ago what were the chances I’d ever use the phrase “my pilates instructor” in a non-mocking way I would have said zero) has taught me this trick about relieving muscle tension and self-massaging by lying on tennis balls.  It totally works, and feels amazing, and has pretty much eliminated my back pain except….

…well, except my one shoulder is still realigning after a lifetime of slouching and it was really seizing up and it REALLY needed the tennis ball treatment except all the tennis balls are in the garage and it’s kind of cold outside and I really didn’t want to go outside to get a tennis ball and I was looking around for something to use as a substitute and then I saw something round and firm and it seemed perfect…

And that is how I came to be lying on the living room floor this afternoon when John came home with a sweet potato under my shoulder.  And then, when I subsequently used that sweet potato in tonight’s dinner (washed! and peeled!) John tried to refuse to eat it.  Boys just don’t understand the importance of fitness and proper spinal alignment, do they?


Things that occurred over the weekend:

– Massive dinner

– Massive food coma

– Watching college football

– Ill-advised trip to REI on the busiest shopping day of year

– High school reunion.  (I tried to write a separate post on this one but it ended up just saying “It was weird.  And surreal. And weird” over and over.)

– Minor gin-induced hangover.  (See high school reunion, above.)

– Watching more football.

– Bowling.

– Watching LIVE football, in the cold, ending in a spectacular overtime victory.  Go Bears!

Do you think my employers would  suspect anything if I called in sick tomorrow?

Walking home from lunch with my sister, I ducked into Walgreens to get something sweet to tide me through Friday afternoon.  I really wanted a 69 cent Twix bar, but in effort to be more virtuous with  my chocolate, managed to walk out of Walgreens with a $3 bar of Hersheys “Extra dark with cranberries, blueberries, and almonds,” which advertises itself as “a natural source of flavanol antioxidants.”

It was not even that delicious.


November 20

Relations with Clients: Disciplinary Measures


Sexual Relations with Clients –

Civil and Disciplinary Exposures


November 20, 2007
1 pm to 2 pm Eastern
12 pm to 1 pm Central
11 am to 12 pm Mountain
10 am to 11 am Pacific


Lawyers for the Profession®

More Info

When entering into a sexual relationship with a client, at the very least an attorney’s ability to represent the client may be materially limited. But the effects can be far more serious. This program discusses the basis for civil liability against lawyers and the rules of professional conduct under which lawyers have been prosecuted for sexual relations with clients. Enroll today at West LegalEdcenter!

I was sworn in as a real lawyer by the Supreme Court of Illinois this week.   With about 1500 other people.

Because there were so many of us, they convened the court in a huge basketball arena to get all of us done at once.  If you have never been in full business dress in a basketball arena, you’re really missing out.  The slightly sticky floor of the concession area feels really awesome in heels.

During the ceremony, there were speeches.  They were predictably awful.  One man from a bar association misquoted Robert Frost and then commended us for taking “the road less traveled.”  (Perhaps he missed the earlier speaker who announcing the record number of people getting sworn in that day.)  Another speaker told us that good lawyers are like ducks- smooth on the surface, but paddling like hell underneath.  (Polite laughter.)  A third pointed out someone who had overcome a major disability to become a lawyer. Didn’t tell any of her story, really, just said “look! this person with a disability became a lawyer!” (Polite applause.)  Then we all stood up, raised our right hands, and repeated the oath after the judge (mumbled, really- the sound system wasn’t great and I couldn’t actually hear all the words I was being asked to repeat.)

Then we filed out, scattered to find the table where our last name was in the alphabetical listings, and collected our certificates.  And we are lawyers.  So if you need legal advice, you can, technically, come to me.

Last night, watching a little t.v., a public service announcement comes on.  You’re familiar with the genre:  “mom, talk to me about x.  If you don’t, who will?”  and “I might act embarrassed or say that I don’t want to talk about it, but I’ll listen.”  And I was sort of only half watching, expecting it to end with a “Parents: the anti-drug,” when instead I heard “so parents, talk to your children about sex, and tell them  they should wait until they’re married.  They’ll listen,” and then a flash to a website ending in .gov, where parents could go for more information.  (In case my description isn’t capturing it for you, here’s the video.)

PSA’s telling parents how to help their kids stay away from drugs?  Obviously.  Even a PSA helping parents broach the topic of sex with their kids, how to tell them to wait until they’re ready?  Fine.  But the government telling parents that the right way to parent is to tell their kids to wait until they’re married to have sex?  (To say nothing of the implicit heterosexual assumptions that accompany that particular message?) It irks me no end.