Randomly happy.

Despite getting rather depressing news at work today, I am happy for the following reasons:

1. Thanksgiving. I get to see the family, play some card games, eat my husband's DIVINE corn casserole, and just relax. I also get the day after Thanksgiving off of work. Three-day work weeks are the best.

2. I had a really nice visit with my parents this weekend. We ate pasta, drank wine, and my dad renewed his love of a nice glass of bourbon. The girls didn't wear makeup and the boys had their PJs on early. It was wonderful.

3. Christmas! I have my presents done. Mainly because I can't afford to do much this year, but I am so excited to give people the stuff I made.

4. P.I.C. and I slept on an air mattress last night so my parents could have our bed. By the middle of the night, it was like sleeping on a water bed. Despite us both being dead tired at waking up often, we kept on getting the giggles. Do you know how fun it is to sleep in the same bed every night with someone that will GIGGLE with you? It's awesome.

5. Two occasions in the past week, I thought I was going to get bitched out. Turns out, I didn't get verbally bitch-slapped by anyone. That makes this three-day work week SO MUCH BETTER.

6. I got my camera fixed last week. This means I can take a BAJILLION more mediocre photographs while pretending like I am a professional. I will also fawn like a crazy person over the two photos that actually look lovely.

 Please share, what makes you happy today? Let's have a love fest. Please.

Another confession.

I am rather compulsive about thank you notes.*

Today, I realized that I did not receive a thank you note from a wedding that I did not attend her wedding. I did, however, give that person a check shortly before her wedding. She cashed that check. I have not received a thank you note. I FEEL LIKE I AM THE THANK YOU NOTE POLICE SOME DAYS.

We had many weddings this year. I think the grand total was eight. One was our own wedding, we attended six others. Some involved travel and hotel expenses. Some of these weddings involved being a member of the wedding party. All involved us spending our hard-earned money on other people. Do not get me wrong, I am very glad to celebrate my friends and their love. I love buying them presents and making them feel special. BUT. I also like to be appreciated. I also like to know that my thoughtfulness was noticed. That is all. I don't feel this is so excessive.

I do understand that in large wedding situations, it takes awhile to get the thank yous done. However, please do not make me wait months and months only to receive a photo thank you card with NO PERSONAL NOTE WHATSOEVER. That's rude. Don't send me a facebook message after I ship a shower gift to you saying "thank you." That's rude too.

I understand that I might be in the minority. I still love sending cards. Real cards. I buy my friends birthday cards. I mail people cards. I love them. Creative, well-made cards make my day. I will spend $8 on one card if I know it will make the recipient smile. I also put this effort into sending out my thank you notes from my own wedding. I don't expect people to be obsessed with cards or notes or stationery. I do expect them to follow some basic rules of manners and send a thank you when a gift has been given. THAT IS ALL.

Basically, here are my requirements for me to not seethe at you for thank you note etiquette:
1. Send them relatively timely.* I know that they are daunting, but they don't go away. Just do them.
2. DON'T SEND OUT FORM THANK YOU CARDS. That's incredibly insulting.
3. A little personal touch goes a long way. Again, I know that they are overwhelming and having to do over one hundred (or two) makes it less likely you're going to elaborate. But come on...just suck it up and do it.

MY RULES ARE EASY. Follow them, please, and you will never see me passive-aggressively rant about your etiquette again.

*Except I have one friend that sent out really delayed thank you notes and for her, I was not perturbed. Her notes were so funny, thoughtful, and sweet that I could never be mad at her. Plus she's one of my favorite people, and I know how she rolls. She's a procrastinator, through-and-through. This is entirely hypocritical given my extended rant, I know, but she didn't receive my wrath.

Things that make me angry.

1. "Friends" who text/call/send a facebook message/post on your facebook wall that they would like to get together. When you respond, radio silence.

2. Coworkers who operate on a sniper method. This means they sneak up on you in your office and request you to do something for them that is wholly unfavorable. Since it is a surprise attack, you have no handy excuse and are forced to complete the unsavory task.

3. A dwindling bank account that just doesn't have enough money for me to splurge on the MOST DARLING sequined miniskirt ever that I have been ogling for two weeks now. PUBLIC SERVICE EMPLOYEES WANT TO BE FANCY TOO, UNIVERSE.

4. The bitches in fashion magazines that say that because I am over thirty, I cannot wear said sparkly miniskirt. You suck. Obviously, I will wear tights with it. THIS IS WINTER IN CHICAGO.

5. The fact that the end of my day became incredibly busy, including yet another phone call from that particular person that has already called you seven times today. This means I could not get my beef jerky fix this afternoon.

6. I cannot do a serious exfoliation on my face now because I am worried I will look crazy from the spray tan coming off. I now have some light flakiness that is driving me INSANE. Moisturizer isn't working. I have flake face. This makes me angry AND sad.

This concludes today's episode of things that make me mad. You can now resume regularly-scheduled programming.

Good enough.

Last night as P.I.C. and I enjoyed a lovely dinner party with a very kind couple we know, we all got on the topic of jobs. We are all fortunate enough to be employed. "In this economy," that is something about which we can smile. I brought up, as I know I have mentioned before, that I don't find my career path to be the one that is most suited for me. I'm a lawyer, but I know I am destined for something else. Anyone who knows me knows that I have mentioned this many times over. I don't doubt that my current job is probably the best law job for me. I would be miserable in a law firm environment. I know, I have been there. I don't make very much money, which is sad given that I have been a lawyer for six years, but I get to have dinner with my husband every night. I don't have to work on the weekends. My workload is entirely manageable.

But really...does this innate dissatisfaction with my career make me a millennial? P.I.C. brought up the fact that we were different from our parents' generation. They got jobs to pay the bills. They worked at those jobs to make money to support the family or the things they liked to do. It wasn't about personal fulfillment. It wasn't about finding a "true calling" or a job that made them smile every day. The real issue was putting food on the table and clothes on the kids.

I don't recall my parents ever complaining about how their jobs just were not their destiny. My mom never said, "I work here, but I know there is something better out there for me." My dad didn't either. Of course, there was the occasional musings of "if I win the lottery," but I think everyone has those, even now. (For the record, I'd pay off student loans and housing loans in the family, take a six month leave of work, and travel the world.)

Neither P.I.C. nor I really enjoy our career. But right now, neither of us hates our jobs. "In this economy," I think that's good enough. I might not feel as though this is my destiny, and I might not smile everyday at my job, but I don't cry. Right now, that's good enough for me.

(P.S. Please say I'm not a millennial. I HAVE NO ENTITLEMENT. I SWEAR. PLUS I AM TOO OLD.)

Rules of using an umbrella in Chicago.

After being bopped in the head three times by in considerate umbrella users on this windy and rainy November morning (one bop that resulted in my hair becoming entangled in the lady's umbrella...ouch!), it has occurred to me that I should do my very own umbrella etiquette piece. Why? Mainly, I'm just pissed off that my head hurts.

Rule number one: If you are tall and carry a large umbrella, go up. Lift your damn arm up and carry it over the shorter people.

Rule number two: This is the obvious pole to rule number one. If you are short, or have a smaller umbrella, go down. Squat your knees and duck under the taller people.

Rule number three: Keep to your own damn side if the sidewalk. Seriously. Umbrellas make for trickier city walking, so attempt some semblance of patience and you will not end up ripping out strands of a stranger's hair. Strangers everywhere will thank you.

Rule number four: Really evaluate the weather. Is it pouring? Umbrellas are a good call. Is it misting and windy as hello (the very conditions that exist this morning)? Put your damn umbrella away and suck it up. An umbrella will be more of a pain in the asset that anything. You know it is going to flip out at least ten times on the way from the el to the office. I recommend a rain jacket with a hood or perhaps a hat in this situation.

If you follow these four rules, rainy days might be a shade less annoying for everyone. And yes, I will get to keep all my hair. That's the real reason for this post, obviously.

The skirt that lacks a slit.

I, like many female attorneys, have a collection of suits. I have some I really like to wear, and I have some that I just wear because suits are expensive. Oh, and shopping for a suit is not fun.

I have this one suit that I do like, but I don't love. It's a wool gray tweed skirt suit that I snagged on sale at Banana Republic. It looks professional, is in style, and makes me feel presentable in court. Its main flaw lies in the skirt. The skirt is relatively short, which is fine. I wear tights so I don't look like a floozy. The skirt does lack, however, a slit.

Slits are functional, really. They enable you to walk with your normal stride. This means a skirt lacking a slit makes me have to take shorter steps. This isn't a problem in walking around on flat surfaces. This does, however, mean that situations in which I might take a bigger step are problematic. My main complaint is boarding the bus. I have to somewhat shift my body to the side and attempt to discreetly hike my skirt up. No, this does not mean that the skirt is too tight, so shutyomouth. I guess I never realized that a slit was so important.

This morning, after successfully boarding the bus without feeling like too much of a jerk, I crossed the street. There was a puddle obstructing my path at a curb. Usually, I am quite adept at leaping a puddle. I like to think that my years of dancing have given me a certain grace and ability to leap over a puddle much better than the average human. Sadly, this morning, I forgot I was wearing the slitless skirt. No sooner had I began my (in my head) graceful leap over the puddle when I felt the jerk of my skirt stopping me.

PLOP.

I jumped SQUARELY into the puddle, effectively splashing my entire lower left leg and soaking my entire right foot. Awesome.

This suit has now been been blacklisted. Well, until the next time it comes up in rotation. Fingers crossed that I have no puddles obstructing my path on that day.

Anticipate this.

My friend told me once that the best part of vacation was planning it. The anticipation, the expectations, all of the new shopping...it was all leading up to something great. Whether it be an exotic two weeks away in Spain, or just a long weekend in New York, the anticipation was always fantastic.

Of course, there was no way that a vacation could actually live up to all of the hype, right? It wouldn't be perfect. The anticipation was nearly as good as it was going to get. Flights would be missed. Trains would be missed. There was NO WAY you could actually wear all of the new clothes you purchased.

My honeymoon? You know, that trip I took last month? Well, the anticipation didn't even come close to how wonderful of a trip it ended up being. I'm not saying it was perfect. I'm not saying that P.I.C. and I never once snapped at each other because MOTHEROFGODIAMSOTIREDANDHAVENTSLEPTINTWODAYS. Oh, and I must say...I think my backpacking days are over. My thirty-one year old back isn't having that anymore.

No. It wasn't a perfect two weeks. We missed lots of trains. They canceled a bus route on us. I didn't wear all of my pretty dresses. We both got violently ill (although that was fortunate to happen at different times.) However, we ate so much delicious bread. We drank gallons of rioja. We had cafes con leche every single morning. We sat and stood in cafes, taking in all of the Spanish culture. I rode a camel on my birthday. We drank fino. We slept in almost every day. We drank ourselves asleep on airplanes. We took over a thousand photographs. We saw priceless art and ancient cathedrals.

We honeymooned the SHIT out of our two weeks in Spain. And ya know what? The anticipation didn't even come close. (Even if I didn't get to wear my new pretty pink dress.)