30 March 2005

My moot court class is finally over. Oral argument is not my thing, but I passed the class. My opponent gave me a nice compliment and suggested that I should be more confident in my skills. The celebration with my classmates last night lasted a bit too long. I was quite hungover this morning, almost to the point of not being able to drag my ancient carcass to class.

I just spent a lovely half-hour having a cup of tea, rounding up old drafts of my brief, and SHREDDING them. The record was sealed by the court to protect the litigants’ privacy (it was a family law case), so I couldn’t just shove everything in the recycling bin. 

I finally feel released from that class. Closure at last.

28 March 2005

I’ve been squirreled away working on (and worrying about) my moot court oral argument, which takes place tomorrow afternoon. Think of me at 4 PM PST. I finally finished a good version of it this afternoon. I’ve practiced it enough. I think I can anticipate most of the questions I might get. I’m a little worried about my judges — out of habit, they have probably already thoroughly examined the briefs, the bench memo, and the underlying record, since they work at the US Court of Appeals. Everyone who has heard my argument so far has told me to put a little more passion into it — my disdain for the whole process has been seeping out.  I’ll be glad when this nine-week nightmare is over. My opponent and I are going out for drinks afterward. Immediately afterward.

Farmers’ market report: lacinato kale, beef, tangelos, kiwis, and asparagus. Two vendors have white asparagus now. We made a run over to the Rulli bakery on Chestnut Street for an Italian Easter treat, but didn’t see anything we wanted or could afford.

On Easter we went to the home of my parents’ best friends. They’re Boston Italians, so I carved the leg of lamb while listening to “Volare.” I love them. We had: pasta with a light sauce; then the leg of lamb, which had been stuffed with garlic, parsley, and peccorino romano; braised artichokes with garlic and oil, asparagus with butter and parmesan, a zucchini gratin; and then we had a green salad; and then my sister-in-law’s delicious strawberry cake (genoise, berries, whipped cream).  I taught them how to tell if the leg is done if you don’t have a thermometer: look for an opening, and stick your finger in as deep as you can: if it’s too hot to keep it there, it’s at least 130, which means the lamb is about medium-rare.

I worked out tonight with my new interest. He’s such a type 7 — always chatting away with lots of friends and passers-by, every minute of every day has lots of activities planned, and so forth. I outdid him by bench-pressing 185 lbs, but he wiped me out with his triceps routine. We’ll be sore by Wednesday.

23 March 2005

More progress. I passed the 10-error check on my brief (if I had made more than ten errors, I'd have to redo it). My oral argument is coming along. I have a good outline, but my delivery is full of stumbles. I’m going to try to get it firmly in my head so that I don’t have to use any notes — I want to be able to just extemporize next Tuesday. I’ll wear my new suit, my fuck-you tie, and my lucky new shoes.

More progress: I’m also getting to know a guy I have long wanted to meet. We’ve seen each other regularly at the gym for the past year, but it has only been in the last few weeks that he’s been friendly to me. Or maybe it’s that I’ve finally approached him. We’ll see where this leads. He’s single, and he’s age- and achievement-appropriate. Plus he’s cute.

19 March 2005

It was probably a mistake to have two, maybe three, big glasses of wine at 9:30 am this morning.  Maybe even grossly negligent or reckless. A reasonable person would have restrained himself out of a conscious awareness of an unjustifiable and substantial risk that his conduct would lead to a harmful result: giddyness followed by a long nap. After shopping at the farmers' market outside the Ferry Building, we got bao (Vietnamese steamed buns filled with chicken and vegetables) from Slanted Door, and a bottle of Prosecco at the wine bar. We were celebrating the birthday of an old friend who was visiting from the interior. As always, it was worth it to see the shocked expressions of the tourists as they realized that people could, indeed, pause and enjoy the morning with a glass of wine once the errands were done.

I had a delightful evening yesterday with another old friend who’s in town for the weekend. Indian food, then champagne and snarky comments at a mutual friend’s apartment up the hill.  I realized that if I want a boyfriend, I have to make my apartment a little more boyfriendly. Clear my clutter with fung shui. Remove the patina of old meals from behind the stove where the mop don’t reach. Put in another towel rack for him.  A dimmer for the bathroom light.

Farmers’ market report: asparagus, kiwis, white Malaysian guavas, beef, rocket, and half a Pullman loaf from della Fattoria bakery.

Enjoy the equinox.

18 March 2005

I’m home. I have a cold from the climate change of hot and sunny to cold and rainy. I enjoyed L.A. more than ever. Some of it was my friend’s nice new house and the six-burner Viking stove. Mmm. Envy.

Wednesday I studied in a West Hollywood café for a while, met a fellow trade school pupil (I figured it out when I saw him flipping through the Bluebook: A Uniform System of Citation, 17th edition). I got the car washed (so L.A., I know) and bought pastries at the Russian bakery across the street from Whole Foods at Santa Monica and Fairfax. I then spent a sunny afternoon weeding and watering, and then I cooked us a little dinner: artichokes (boiled and served with Best Foods/Hellman’s mayonnaise, in the manner of our mothers), and then pasta with a lovely sugo bolognese, and then a little ragout of asparagus, spring onions, and fava beans, all from the Hollywood Farmers’ market.

I puttered and worked Thursday morning, left at 2 PM, and was in San Francisco, at the gym by 7:27 PM. One could go a steady 85-90 most of the way, if one were so inclined (not that I am admitting to such a thing, of course).  I came home to find a parking space and my fat IRS refund.

Road trips, even short ones, are good for clearing the mind. I rode home mostly in silence -- no radio, no music.  The little voice in my head said that I'm ready again for a boyfriend. That has been a long time coming.

16 March 2005

My,  how the days fly by.

Monday we worked all day, just as we used to in our schoolboy days. My friend came over and I made a nice dinner of carrot salad in a garlicky vinaigrette, and an avocado and blood orange salad. Then a roast chicken with ginger butter stuffed under the skin, and cauliflower with pine nuts and currants.

I took Tuesday off, went to Venice (not Van Nuys, as someone misunderstood me yesterday), worked out at the original Gold's Gym, where I saw several future boyfriends and heard the front desk call out twice over the PA system "would the owner of the silver Mercedes S500 please move your car from the loading zone? It will be towed in five minutes", walked to the end of the Venice Pier, drove around Venice, saw the ribbons of stagnant water that pose as its famous canals, had a good ice cream as Massimo's, hung out at the Rose Café, got stuck in traffic on the 10, had a Midtowne escapade or two, set off the burglar alarm  back at home, and ate Indian food on Sunset. It has been warm and sunny, which I needed more than anything.  Air conditioning + sun roof = heaven.

Today: lots of school work, and trying to stay out of trouble.

13 March 2005

Farmers' market report: today it comes to you from the Hollywood Farmers' Market on Ivar at Hollywood Boulevard. Under cloudy skies, we found globe artichokes, organic asparagus, blood oranges, very sweet low-acid mandarins, Fuerte avocados, spring onions, fava beans, and cauliflower. Plans for this: avocado and blood orange salad. Asparagus and fava risotto. A roast chicken in there somewhere (and then I can use the carcass to make a little broth...) We stopped at Pupusas Delmy for delicious pork-and-cheese and chicken-and-cheese pupusas, with a spicy cabbage salsa, guacamole, sour cream, and hot sauce.  We ate them sitting at the curb watching our future boyfriends pass by.

We had lunch with the hipsters at  Madame Matisse in Silverlake. Much cheaper than yesterday's lunch at Barney's, where I was bad and bought Premiata dress shoes (saved $120, so guess how much they were) to go with my new suit. Honestly, I needed them.

Other activities: on Saturday we both worked, snacked, and then I went to a little house party in Hollywood and then to Dragstrip 66 in Echo Park. The entertainment portion of the evening was of less than amateur quality, overlit (for the video cameras (but who would want to watch that again?)), and the music was, well, just dance hits from the last twenty years, just one after another (no mixing). The crowd, however, was very nice and chatty, and not at all shiny and plucked like a West Hollywood crowd, and they weren't all drunks, either. One young man there was a very good kisser...

12 March 2005

Greetings from Silverlake. It's warmer in San Francisco, but I'm watching a hummingbird hover over the banana trees in the backyard, so it isn't all bad. My host is a swim practice with his team. I've hopped on to some neighbor's wireless access point. Thanks, dude.

On the agenda today: an early lunch at Barney's, to watch the natives in their typical habitat. Dinner with friends, and studying, of course.

11 March 2005

The bags are packed. My notes from class in the printer, I’ve had my tea. I’ve checked everything off my lists. I’ve swept and vacuumed the apartment. The car has a full tank of gas. I’ve had a haircut. I’m off for a little break. We all finished our briefs yesterday, so we’re over the hump at school until finals in early May. Hurrah. Two of my classmates are now known to have blogs. One is making waves because of his hardcore beliefs; the other is just the story of a nice young man in his first year in trade school.

Now that Forbes’ list of billionaires is out, I see that I’ve cooked for two of them, and swum in the pool of a third. Little San Francisco is tied with Moscow for having the second-most number of billionaires.

We're having our Spring heatwave. My sweetpeas are growing riotously. It was 75F/24C yesterday and it might be even hotter today. It was so warm and still last night that it seemed like earthquake weather. I talked to my former young gay lover yesterday. He's on the East Coast, where icy winds and grey skies are the norm. I can't even imagine it.

6 March 2005

Maybe things are going to be OK. My mother is out of the hospital. The problem was a reaction to a new medication, nothing more. Since it was nearly fatal, my sister and I both had the same response all weekend: lack of motivation to do much work. I’m behind in my studies, but I couldn’t quite see the point of learning about the differences between felony murder and misdemeanor manslaughter.

Spring arrived this weekend. It was cold and rainy on Friday, dry but not too warm on Saturday, and very nice and sunny today. I went to Black Sands Beach this afternoon to regroup. Some days, I love living here. I was at the trailhead thirty minutes after I stepped out my front door. I was down the cliff (where the brush and the poison oak are breaking out in new green growth) in ten minutes.  There’s a new, temporary waterfall now next to the most recent little mudslide.

The tide was low at 2:30 or so, but the waves were so big that it never seemed to go out. The beach faces south, toward the city, but it’s open to the swells coming off the ocean. As the tide came back in, we had to move up toward the cliff three times. You get used to the sounds of the normal surf but your ears atavistically stay open for a sudden calm followed by the ominous rip of a big wave as the tip crests. And then there's a sudden rush of water and foam at your feet. I’m sure there was no dry sand left long before high tide. Some days the water is like glass; today the wave faces were 10 to 12 feet high.