Meet with 1L Professors

In college, I always regretted not getting to know my professors better. (Not gonna lie that this is primarily because a better relationship with them = a better recommendation...) In law school, I decided to try and bite the bullet and go see them. They pee and poo too, so there is no reason for me to fear them, right? This turned out to actually be true. Our Criminal Law professor was probably the most intimidating in class, but much less sweat and fear inducing in person. I had lunch with our Contracts professor and learned all kinds of interesting tidbits, including about some kid who thought an appropriate graduation speech topic would be about how he almost got arrest for being a pedophile. (Apparently, his DAUGHTER walked in on him in the bathroom one day and wanted to help him hold his penis and he OBLIGED!!! Naturally, when the girl went to a sleepover at a friend's house and tried to help that dad out, ALARM BELLS went off and set into motion quite the fiasco. Graduation speech material???! I mean, really.)

The only professor I didn't go see in person was Criminal Procedure, but that class was INSUFFERABLE. I set in the back between two people who eventually dropped out and another kid whose ADHD was the reason Adderol was invented--clear recipe for fail. She essentially spent 2 hours squawking and mumbling about flashbacks from 40 years ago when she was a spring chicken. Me and ADHD kid would tune out immediately, playing games like tic-tac-toe, name all the state capitals and postal abbreviations, scribbling mean comments about other classmates on each others "notes," etc. Needless to say, I saw no point to enduring office hours, especially since she'd probably say "Oh, you're one of the people in the back row who is NEVER paying attention." And heaven forbid she launch into another rambling tale of her "rebel" good old days...

Goodbye, Martin

A few months ago, Ted invited Martin and me on a Search and Rescue night hike and mentioned climbing Pyramid's Peak in Tahoe via snowshoe. He said it was a 3 mile trip to the top and that we'd have to start on it early in the day. My mind immediately thought: Pssshh, little hike with snowshoes, no big deal. 4 hours tops. WRONG. So very wrong.

We had to find a date that was convenient for Martin, because the world revolves around his schedule of deserting his San Franciscan comrades for the sunkissed girls, Ed Hardy tees and endless traffic of L.A. We picked the day after Martin's goodbye party to embark, Ted smartly planning an afternoon departure to allow Martin some recovery from the debauchery and mayhem. Ted picked everyone up and we were off in his sweet Jeep, making decent time on the way up there, stopping for gas and snacks, and indulging in delusions about winning the lottery. Ted would quit his job and throw an "I'm Rich and You're Not" party for all his pals, I would pay off any debts and travel, and Martin wanted a be-diamonded ice axe. So delirious with our imaginary millions were we that we accidentally ventured into another state.

Upon arrival at Jen and Hanley's cabin, disrupting one of their roommates who surely wasn't expecting us to ruin the peacefulness of her wine and puppy cuddling, we dropped off our stuff, went "off-roading" and headed to Muha's cabin for some yummy grilled food, relaxing hot tubbing and Catch Phrase. After getting back, we organized our packs for the next day's adventure, then Ted and I reviewed logistics while Martin slept in the spider-riddled attic. I still had no idea what I was in for, even with Ted going over the topographical maps with me.

After McDonald's and the boys insisting on getting themselves Subway sandwiches, we were off. 9:40am we were all geared up and on our way, altitude around 5,500 ft. The starting leg was a scramble straight up a creek. I led the way for the first and only part of the trip. I stripped down to my tanktop within 15 minutes of starting--sad barometer of my physical condition that I was sweating so profusely I needed to be half-naked in the snow...

After strapping on our snowshoes, Ted noticed my hopeless incompetence at walking in them and took the lead. Martin followed and I brought up the rear, eternally thankful that the weight of two men ahead of me helped make a nice, already carved path. I lagged behind a good 30 feet, sneaking in breaks whenever I could. Martin stopped every 5 to 10 minutes to "take pictures" so I could catch up/ he could pretend he was waiting for me to catch up and get in a break himself. Ted patiently waited for us, like a parent watching a couple of hapless toddlers. The mountain kept going on and on, and was a vertical ascent as far as I was concerned. I learned to stop asking Ted our altitude because what seemed like 45 minutes would go by and he'd respond we'd covered all of a paltry 100 feet in elevation. Disheartened, limbs ready to mutiny for not having been prepared for such a trek, I'd lower my head and march on wondering when the misery would end.

The view was the only thing making the climb bearable. The higher we got, the more we could see. Distant snow covered mountain peaks rising majestically in the winter silence, punctuated only by our determined push through the snow. When we reached the final stretch and could actually see the peak, the elements turned against us. About 200 yards past the tree-line, the wind pursued us with a vengeance and the snow turned to ice. The only other sign of life were these creepy little flies, what sustained them was a mystery. Instead of continuing with our switchback pattern, we decided to face the mountain head-on and summit in a direct path. Never have I felt like the entire world was against me. The wind increased its relentless hounding of us, allowing 2 or 3 steps before you had to stop, brace and find hidden reserves of steel strength continue. I managed to get ahead of the boys for a little while, but my victory was short-lived, as Ted was determined not to let the slacker get to the top first. Every time I thought we were almost there, another peak would appear and I would cry a little to myself, convinced we had actually been transported to some cruel, barren part of the arctic or banished to Siberia. Ted and Martin jubilantly celebrated having mounted the peak while I was trying desperately to restore feeling to my blue fingers. Martin had inhaled his sandwich before Ted and I could even open our bags. Martin's bourbon provided a nice little warm spot in the belly and Ted's Coors was surprisingly refreshing. I happily enjoyed my lollipop, amazed with the stunning view and thinking proudly "Look what I did!" 9,897 feet. We were truly on top of the world!

The descent was mercifully less painstaking. Halfway down, the boys stopped to play with their ice axes, while I gladly welcomed the rest. For every 100 times Martin and I fell, Ted maybe slipped. I frequently gave up and slid down on my romp whenever possible. We finally made it back to the car, 9.5 hours later, sore, tired and quite pleased with ourselves. We stopped for snacks and Martin was kind enough to pick up some DayQuil for us all, as the two of us had developed some nasty, hacking cough and Ted had just gotten over one. We stopped in Davis for burritos and to let some of the traffic thin out. I reviewed what constitutes consent with them on the way back--their moms would be proud that they know the difference!

All in all, it was a great trip. Ted and Martin are definitely good people that I am delighted to call my friends. We're gonna miss Martin being here in San Francisco, but I'm sure the future will have many more such adventures in store.

Attend a yoga class

On Sunday, I went to a free yoga class at the Presidio Sports Basement. Luckily Michelle called me and I managed to drag my ass out of bed in time. She and Brian were already there and ready. The class was largely women--no surprise there. In yoga, you are supposed to concentrate on your breathing to the point of controlling where in your body you inhale the air. You use the breathing to to focus your attention away from the mental aspect of holding poses for an extended period of time. It leads to a heightened state of calmness/awareness. (Or dizziness if you are me and didn't have breakfast and can't remember to inhale/exhale at the correct times. Sometimes, I am convinced there is little difference between nirvana and low blood sugar/oxygen levels....)
We went through all kinds of positions--the dog, the cat, rocking the baby, the warrior, the kitchen table--there seriously seems to be a yoga pose for pretty much any object you can think of. Some of the stretches hurt so good. Others were easy and some made me inwardly scream their name. After a certain point, awash in tranquility, we started doing pelvic stretches. Between that and the deep breathing all I could think about was tantric sex and how I'm not having any. At all. Le sigh. (Though you best believe I made a mental note that this is a "girly" activity to drag a guy along to that we could both appreciate and, ahem, "thank" each other for later...)
At the end of the hour I felt more relaxed and limber. Then little kiddies started filing in for their class and it was back to reality, more recharged and slightly less skeptical of connecting with the "temple" that is my body.

Angel Island Trail Race

In an attempt to kick off a healthier year and knock out #44, I signed myself up for a 16k trail race with a mild 1,036' elevation. Then I promptly stopped training. (Not that I ever really started...) In typical Clara fashion, I figured a few 3.5 mile jogs and having run a marathon about 3 months ago would suffice. To my surprise and amazement, it actually did! I finished in 1:53:24. While nothing to write home about, it's under 2 hours, and thus exceeded my expectations.

The weather was perfect--cool and slightly foggy. At the start of the race some little miss cunt fellow runner told me I wasn't allowed to wear a headset on single trail races. I looked around, incredulously noting at least seven other runners in our proximity with theirs already in. Instead of punching her in the face, I civilly pocketed my nano, vowing to put it in as soon as we got away from the start line. (I did continue to get disapproving looks from some other runners throughout the race. Their elitism made me glad I was there, polluting the "purity" of their "sport.") The altitude got high really quickly, but the long, fast downhills saved me. Some points along the trail were so foggy it looked like if you stepped off, you'd fall into the clouds. The views of the city line were pretty sweet and would've been truly amazing had the day not been as overcast. Here is one from the summer version of this run:



My strategy was basically to walk the steep parts (I walk quickly though!) and run all the easy descending ones. The last 2 miles my knee cap became furious with me and my right hip joined the protest. Apparently they don't appreciate being forced to participate in such under prepared physical endeavors. I can still hear them cracking, clicking and plotting to make a cripple of me before 30 if I keep it up... Mercifully, Rupa's music kept up my pace long enough to sprint the finish, even passing some people!

We had lunch at Sam's afterwards and then I crashed for 5+ hours. Barring rain, this weekend I am definitely going hiking in Pacifica and next month for the Super Bowl maybe crashing the Kaiser half around Golden Gate Park if Brian and Lindsay are down, mixing delinquency with exercise and saving myself $50 at the same time. Win!

New Year's Eve 2010

I have not been in the mood for festivities this past month. Christmas Day might as well have been May 3rd for all I cared. I had bought a dress for NYE-- a short, tight black little number with just enough class to spare me from utter Skankdom. It had been staring at me from its perch on my door for the past week, losing desirability with each passing day. Gone was my energy to get dolled up and shitfaced. I then came up with the half-assed plan to go night hiking instead.

While a great idea, my impetuousness and last minuteness almost always guarantee solo pursuits, because people always seem to need proper notice of such undertakings. I thought I had secured some partners in crime, but one couple bailed and the remaining two can't keep their hands off of each other. That and they have an insatiable addiction to chain-smoking cigarettes, which ABSOLUTELY RUINS nature (and, well, EVERYTHING) for me. I weighed the pros and cons of pretending to tolerate their PDA and carcinogens; company v. aloneness, playing nice with others v. freedom, safety in numbers v. rape and dismemberment, etc . Given my not-so-great day and consequent surly evening attitude, I decided perhaps keeping myself away from others the best bet.

I took a 2 hour nap and managed to drag myself out of bed by 11:15pm, annoyed, but determined not to let my indolence cause me to sleep through the final minutes of 2009. I pushed $62 and my ID into one pocket, loaded a head lamp, my phone, ipod, camera, a small umbrella, and a small paring knife, just in case, into my jacket pockets and set out toward Lands End.

On foot, it took me less than 30 minutes to reach a good vantage point on the Coastal Trail to ring in the new year. The Golden Gate Bridge glowed against the sultry fog of the clear night sky. The moon shone brilliantly, soothingly, illuminating the surprisingly warm night. For the first NYE in years, I saw the fire works erupting from Aquatic Park. Happy 2010 world.

Having abandoned attempts to take pictures in the dark, I continued along the trail, hyper alert and suspicious of distant shadows, but after a while, chilled out. I re-pocketed the headlamp, as my eyes had adjusted to the ample moonlight and the light from the headlamp was reminding me of the Blair Witch Project. (I'd also become convinced I'd see a spider drop down before my eyes causing me to scream and lurch myself off a cliff.)

The walk was very serene and rejuvenating, the seratonin flooding my brain allowing me to welcome 2010 with optimism. At one point I stopped and convened with the moon, convinced it was directing me to sit in the stone bench it was irradiating and state aloud my resolutions. I wondered on accompanied by the sound of the serf and the sight of white waves riding the edges of distant rocks in the sea, drinking in the coastal skyline. Company would've been nice, but I have learned that I can fully appreciate solo activities. (Pretty sure that remark is going to ruefully catapult me into spinsterhood one day...)

Once back on surface streets, I put on my ipod and let Kid Cudi, Kanye, Weezer, Miles Davis and Coldplay take me home.

New Year, New Page

Goodbye 2009, Hello 2010. This isn't a new chapter in my life, so much as it is a chance to turn the page and focus with renewed zeal.

My main goal this year is to lose 15 lbs. The weigh in: 148. I figure setting a 2 lb/month goal is a good starting point. In addition, cooking more, adding in the dreaded weight training, mixing up the fitness routine more, drinking more than 1.5 liters of water per day and sucking it up and buying those pre-cut/sliced fruits and veggies so I stop gravitating to the 10 for $10 Haagen-Dazs ice cream and 2 for $5 cookie sales... This is going to be a sad year for my inner fat kid.

I am going to start writing more, because I need a constructive way to digest the last decade and the next few years which promise to have high highs and very low lows. I have started a blog to to help accomplish this.

I am also really going to work on not giving people such a hard time. Ironically, I mainly only do this to people I like, and for the most part they understand this, but I need to let up more so that they know I really do appreciate them. It's not going to be easy. Perhaps I'll compromise by only making subtle remarks--a sting instead of a bite. This will help me seem less combative and force me to do a better job filtering what I say, practices that are vital to good lawyering anyway. Besides, I am not in college anymore--wit is more admirable and age appropriate.

I don't really have any other super interesting or pressing goals, but life isn't always about thrill--consistency is a necessity, so I will concentrate staying in the present and practice honing my brown belt skillz in the art of patience through moderation.

Attend every class of three first semester law courses

This was one of those minor, tedious but necessary goals. 1Ls have five courses each semester, so staying on top of things is crucial to surviving the first year of law school. I'm sure my grades will be disappointments, but upside, now I know exactly what I need to do for the remaining semesters. Between the other two courses I only missed 3 classes. My attendance rate hasn't been this high since my parents were in charge of taking me to school! I'll take it as a sign I'm starting to get all growed up :)