Friday, June 27, 2014

Too Many Post-Script Notes to Count

Well, this is embarrassing. Six Nine months? SIX NINE months? Shameful. Just shameful. (That's right - almost three months passed between me starting and finishing this post. Judge me, go ahead.)

So, it's 2014. [[Post-Script Note: It's now June. I wrote those words in January. I don't even think this is relevant anymore, but what the heck, it's written. Move it along.]]

As many of you were told in our Christmas card, 2013 was a great year for me and Goose.

***Timeout. Let's just discuss the giant elephant-y Goose in the room. Yes, Goose was forced to wear an AMAZING holiday sweater in our Christmas card. Yes, he was given full veto rights over wardrobe selection and ample time to exercise his veto rights. Yes, he declined to review his wardrobe selection prior to Christmas-picture time. Yes, he threw a massive man fit when he saw the wardrobe selection. Yes, I threatened him within inches of his life to PUT.ON.THE.DAMN.SWEATER. Yes, I won.***

Hellllllllllllllllo, handsome sweater.

Now, here's where I have a choice. I could spend my time boring you with the details of what the last six nine months have been like for us. But I won't. Mainly because the details would be populated by crummy iPhone photos that you've already seen and because my anxiety level increases rapidly just attempting to collect from my mind in an organized fashion anything beyond three days ago. And I don't want to start 2014 with high anxiety. Lord knows that two straight weeks of family holiday time and our insane travel schedule (Aeropuerto Internacional de la Ciudad de Mexico, you are dead to me. at the end of 2013 left me with enough residual anxiety to last me through 2016. So, just like that, clean slate. That's what you're getting.

Ok, fine, that and a few 2013 collages. iPhone style.

The Cape, Boston, Bahamas, Puerto Rico and much water for a gal who can't stand the sand. Oh, and our first, foster, Bandit Man.

Revisore Ranch, Acapulco, Dancing Duo, MHST Christmas and our puppy loves. Random, like our life. 

Charleston, Monique Gets Married, New Years' with the Inlaws, Welcome to the World WKD!, Buckey Man and a Brother Gets Hitched. 

Calling Baton Rouge, Caballeros in the Hamptons, Bermuda and a Puppy Ginger.

With that, moving on to 2014. 2014 will be a grand year for us. It's the year we say goodbye to our 20s. [[Post-Script Note: Our 20s have come and gone, ol' chap.]] Which means that Goose and I can add to our list of accolades that we've spent an entire DECADE of our lives together. All I can say about that is: "Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?"

Can you even begin to imagine the couple we were at 20 years old, versus the couple we are at 30? No? Well here, this should help:

Luscious long locks and bleached blonde hair. I suppose it could have been worse.
I'm excited to share this milestone with him, with my amazing best friends who are (almost) all hitting it before me, and with our family members who are crossing themselves and spitting over their shoulders at the thought of having a grandchild/child/niece/nephew who is THIRTY years old. Suckers.

We're celebrating 30 years of birth with a pretty exciting trip to Istanbul. Plus, we've spent the last few weeks creating a list of "30 Things to Do While We're 30!" Does it surprise you that (1) it is in Excel, (2) it contains embedded formulas and (iii) it is beautifully color coordinated? No? Well I wouldn't think so.

Also happening (or not) in 2014:

First, in case you haven't heard me shouting it from the rooftops with a smile the size of Tennessee on my face, effective January 1, I transitioned out of a Capital Markets attorney role with my Firm into a Business Development attorney role. What does that mean? The legal implications of it are probably too tedious and nuanced for you, but here are the real-life implications of it:
  • For the past five years, I've accounted for my days - ALL of them - in 0.25 hour increments. That means, with an average 10-hour work day, I've had to account for 73,000 blocks of time since I started at the Firm. (Please don't fact check me there - I'm close enough.) That makes me want to smack whoever invented the billable hour in the mouth. This new role means no more billing. Hallelujah. 
  • I've been on-call for 24 hrs. a day, 365 days a year. You doctor friends have NOTHING on an associate at a big law firm. The "I'm out of the office and not checking my blackberry." only existed if you were under general anesthesia or standing AT the altar. This new role means I come to work at a normal time. I leave at a normal time. My weekends are usually mine. And if you want something from me outside of those times, it will [probably] (old habits die hard) wait until tomorrow. Amen. 
  • Even after donating 2356233 gray hairs and only slightly fewer wrinkles to my career, I continue to believe that I work for the very best big firm in the country. I love our history, clients, culture, attorneys and administrative staff. I knew I didn't want to leave this place. It's my home, and it's all I've ever known. This new role means I get to stay here, continue my legal practice in the environment I love, with a job that is sustainable. It doesn't get ANY better than that. Unless I win the lottery. In which case, Adios Firm. It's been real.
Second, I love babies. Correction: Babies that don't belong to me. I do NOT love "Are you and Goose ready to have babies? (HINT! HINT! HINT!)" So many of my close friends have either had children recently (here's looking at you, WKD! [[Post Script Note: IBL! ECC! JRM!) or will imminently birth them [[Post Script Note: My MONIQUE is having a baby! I'll count Dash as my first niece/nephew. Aunt Randi is already amazing.]]. And I'm stoked for them. There's nothing more exciting to me than shopping for baby clothes that I get to wrap and give away as opposed to take home and launder. So, yes, Pablo and I want children eventually. No, my ever-present car sickness is not pregnancy nausea. Yes, we will have multiple HSTs in the not-so-distant future. No, it will not be in 2014. Come on, let's all shake hands on it and move along.

So, I guess that's as good of place as any to leave it. Let's not be strangers. Cheers to a [[Post-Script Note: Continued]] golden 2014!

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