Anger.

I feel I've been holding onto some anger lately. It's no real mystery as to the source of it. I am aware that the issue causing me this anger is outside of my control. That might be what bothers me most.

I have always been the type to hold onto grudges passively. In this case, it might not be so passive. I am learning to be okay with that. While the situation is not within my control, my reactions most certainly are. I now refuse to be nice.

So there.

This posting brought to you by the most passive-aggressive of all the passive-aggressive people in the land.

LOL.

Oh, LOL. Laughing out loud. I remember when I first started typing you, back in my early aol days. (Remember that? A former colleague of mine actually STILL used aol and I'd hear the familiar "you've got mail" at least once a day for over two years. Really. I guess people still use it.)

Then I decided I was TOO GOOD FOR THAT. I would no longer write LOL. It was stupid. Especially when a simple "hahahahahah" would suffice. NO MORE LOL.

That all changed the one day I watched this STUPID video. If you have little tolerance for stupid funny, fast forward to the 2:40 mark. "LOL penis face. TAKE THAT MOM." I can't stop laughing. So I started saying that. Then i decided, hey, I can type LOL sometimes. Or lol. I can type that too.

Now I'm back to using LOL. I feel a little gross, but whatever. I don't care.

Did I just blog about LOL? Sorry.

Trials and errors.

Two weeks ago, I had my first jury trial in five years. It was also the first time I tried a case with someone other than myself. While being on your own is terrifying, there is a certain comfort in knowing that if you screw up (which you will, it's just a matter of when), no none will be there to see you. That being said, having two other people to share the workload (and toss around strategy) is a lot of fun. Yeah. I said it. WORK CAN BE FUN. But only a little bit. Let's not get crazy here.

I don't really want to get into the specifics about the trial. It's not that interesting, really. We won, which makes all of our hard work pay off. We got a proud email from our boss to our entire office, which always makes you feel proud. And, frankly, jury trials (of the multi-million dollar demand variety) don't happen all that often, so the certain rockstardom of being a "trial lawyer" is rather fun. Of course, two weeks later, the luster has faded, and no one remembers us. Go figure.

My favorite moment? The verdict had come in, and the opposing client was getting more and more verbally angry. Eventually, her attorney asked her to leave the courtroom, at which point she stopped in front of my colleague and me, saying, "I BET YOU ARE REALLLLLLY PROUD OF YOURSELF." She then proceeded to glare directly into my eyeballs until she was hustled out of the courtroom. Since I was in court, I didn't respond, but her eye chicken didn't work. I WON THE STARING CONTEST TOO.

In any event, I remember what I like about being a lawyer. I am not a great trial lawyer, but one of my colleagues that tried the case with me truly is, and witnessing a good trial lawyer is pretty amazing. Having one on YOUR side is spectacular. Winning a trial is indescribable. The sense of achievement is like nothing else.

P.S. We all screwed up in the trial. I promise you, you will ALWAYS make a mistake. Recovery is key.

P.P.S. If I had lost, this blog post would have had WAY more expletives and gone like this: F*$K THE JUSTICE SYSTEM. I HATE MY JOB. LIFE SUCKS. FML FML FML. Aren't you glad I won?

Last race of the year: Chicago's Hot Chocolate 15K.

Yesterday, I ran my final race of the year, the Chicago Hot Chocolate 15K. My training had been slightly off due to the upcoming time change. I found it increasingly difficult to get up in the mornings and run. (I'm a morning runner, and I have a really hard time running at night, so this meant I missed a lot of runs.) The weather was getting cold. Rather than get my last long run in, I cut it short by two miles.

But I sure wasn't going to sleep through the alarm when it went off. (Especially when we realized that we got an extra hour of sleep thanks to the time change that FINALLY came.)

We got up, bundled up, took our usual pre-race photo for posterity and lined up. I made us a light breakfast (scrambled egg on a bagel) to give us energy. We were ready.

Unfortunately, due to my slower-than-P.I.C. pace, I had to line up apart from him and wait. And wait. And wait. Seriously, I waited for over an hour before I even started WALKING to the start line. By the time I started running, I couldn't feel my toes, my teeth were chattering, and I had an impossible cramp in the front of my right shin. Even worse? I had to pee. Sigh. This was adding up to be my worst race ever.

Then something weird happened. I warmed up. I felt my toes, and the cramp in my shin went away. The 5K split off from the 15K and I was feeling GREAT. Then I got hot. I had to stop to walk and take off my top layer. Then I made a quick pit stop to pee. I probably lost a good 5-6 minutes getting adjusted. It was totally worth it though. Despite my necessary walk break, it was the ONLY walk break I took. When we got to the 9 mile mark, I kicked it up a notch. Seeing the walkers at this point, I knew this is where my training, although not as diligent as for my earlier races, kicked in. I was fast.

 This was my best race of the year (distance-wise). I had my best pace. I finished strong. I was smiling when I crossed the finish line. (Granted, I always smile when I cross. It's why I do it!)

Bring on 2013! I'm already signed up for two races, so let's keep active this winter, yes?

Reason Number 43 why I can be a total jerk.

About a month ago, P.I.C. and I got into a discussion about romance, particularly, his lack of romance.* This is how the conversation went.

FA: "I mean, you never cook me dinner. I always menu plan, make the grocery list, and cook dinner. It's fine, but it'd be nice if you surprised me by cooking once in awhile."
P.I.C.: "I cook you dinner."
FA: "Name one time OTHER than the night you proposed."
P.I.C.:"uhhhhhh"
FA: "And you have never sent me flowers at work. I know you bring them home from Trader Joe's sometimes, but that doesn't count anymore. That doesn't take any effort, they put those flowers right in front so anyone realizes flowers are a good idea."**
P.I.C.: "Um, I don't know how to send flowers."
FA: "WHAT? How do you not know how to send flowers?"

The conversation ensued with both of us breaking into laughter at various points. He's so funny. Fast forward to two weeks ago and my birthday. He told me he was leaving work early to run an errand for my birthday.

FA: "Ooooh, are you getting me birthday flowers? NICE."
P.I.C.: "Noooo. Sorry."
FA: "Sigh."

Spoiler alert, he didn't get me flowers on my birthday. The next night, I got so bothersome about it. Mind you, I'm not really upset about this, just in a rather tenacious mood. (We'd had a few drinks, and I was relentless with my teasing.)

Eventually, P.I.C. got fed up with my antics. Perhaps they weren't as amusing as I viewed them. He sighed hugely and told me, "YOU ARE RUINING THE SURPRISE."

Wait, what? Apparently, a few days before my birthday, he had actually pre-ordered me flowers to be sent to me the Monday he was in London. He had taken our jokey argument to heart and done something completely and utterly romantic. Flowers on my birthday? Nice. Flowers just because he wanted me to know he misses me? Romantic. Perfect.

My response to this revelation? EWWWWPS. Lucky for me, this is just my personality and he wasn't too upset at me. He laughed it off.

Sure enough, Monday afternoon, I got a call to the front desk and received these beauties.

I do feel like a total jerk, but having these flowers on my desk has reminded me how lucky I am to have a husband who would take a badgering like I gave him and still let those flowers be delivered. I know you can see their beauty, but the smell is outstanding. I'm happy.***


*I realize that this is a dumb problem. I also need to acknowledge that my husband would do absolutely anything I wanted or asked of him if it was possible. I'm just a typical female and expecting him to read my mine, obviously.

**This make me look like a REAL asshole. Sorry. I kind of am.

***I also REALLY love that my husband patronized the flower shop with a purpose, Urban Meadows. This made me even happier knowing that my brattiness did some good. (RIGHT?)

32.

Yep, that time of year again. My calendar is full of dinners, lunches, and diminished ability to get out of bed in the morning (due in part to the lack of light in the morning and also in part to the extra wine I've been consuming.)

IT IS BIRTHDAY SEASON! WOOOOO!

Of course, as a woman, I shouldn't probably tell you my age. But, as the lovely Aaliyah once sang, "Age ain't nothing but a number." (Although, I think that was in reference to her odd marriage to R.Kelly when she was fifteen.) I'm 32 and proud of it.

Every year past 27 has gotten better for me. No lie. I've come into my own as to who I am, what I like to do (for real, not what other people like for me to do). I have an amazing life with a great husband (despite his confusion at the whole ordering flowers to the office thing) and strong family support. I have friends that have stuck by me for the worst and been with me at my best. I've become a runner. I lost that annoying 10 pounds from too much restaurant food. I have traveled a ton (and have two trips on the books for 2013).

Today, there are no first world problems, just birthday cake.

Happy birthday to me.

My happy place.

Being surrounded by twenty hummingbirds really is my happy place. Here is one of the cute little fellas.