Wednesday, October 27, 2010
New Beginnings, One Ply at a Time
Well here I am, a recovering Jewish law student from Boston plunked in the heart of Salt Lake City with my atheist/agnostic Australian boyfriend. (He claims atheist, but that's becuase we disagree about what agnostic means. I lean towards the religiously "noncommittal" point of view, which generally describes him well! Oh Snap!! And because I'm writing this, I win the debate.)
I meant to start this blog when I initially arrived here in Salt Lake City, now nearly 2 months ago. So, I have some stories stacked up to keep us busy in the meantime.
So, from the top:
After a long, hellish summer studying for the bar exam preceded by three hellish years of law school, I packed up my 27 years growing up in Massachusetts into 3 checked bags, a couple shipping boxes and a carry on and headed to Logan with a one way ticket to Salt Lake City. I guess I was flying on a wing and a prayer, as they say, with no job, graduating into the worst economic climate since the Great Depression, having just sat for essentially the wrong bar exam for someone moving out of Massachusetts, and basically stone broke. So, why not abandon my roots, family, friends and business connections for an adventure in Mormon Country. I probably wasn't going to get a law job in Boston anyways. I'll blame it on the Harvard kids.
So, there I am, at Logan with mom and dad, dad who fretted over the traffic and the break from his normal routine to bring me to the airport to the point that getting the ride, packing the car, going to lunch and killing time at a cafe all required varying degrees of arm twisting, consoling & cajoling. We ended up at the airport 3 hours early for a domestic flight, about an hour earlier than TSA says I needed to be there, and about an hour and a half earlier than I say I need to be there. Nonetheless, I was there and the long awaited moment of saying goodbye fell upon us. Mom & I had to convince dad that he had to go park the car in the short term lot and sit in the terminal for a few minutes to drag this out, reassuring him that traffic both "is what it is" and 15 minutes in the middle of the day on a Monday, isn't gonna kill their commute home.
So, we give our hugs, shed our tears, blubber, blather and walk away. With their backs to me and a few paces ahead, I call out to mom, both of us wet cheeked still, but me laughing now.
She stops, dad is still walking not noticing he's now alone, and I jog up to her to avoid having to yell,
And when we're about next to each other, I lean in, and whisper,
"Check your back pocket..."
I meant to start this blog when I initially arrived here in Salt Lake City, now nearly 2 months ago. So, I have some stories stacked up to keep us busy in the meantime.
So, from the top:
After a long, hellish summer studying for the bar exam preceded by three hellish years of law school, I packed up my 27 years growing up in Massachusetts into 3 checked bags, a couple shipping boxes and a carry on and headed to Logan with a one way ticket to Salt Lake City. I guess I was flying on a wing and a prayer, as they say, with no job, graduating into the worst economic climate since the Great Depression, having just sat for essentially the wrong bar exam for someone moving out of Massachusetts, and basically stone broke. So, why not abandon my roots, family, friends and business connections for an adventure in Mormon Country. I probably wasn't going to get a law job in Boston anyways. I'll blame it on the Harvard kids.
So, there I am, at Logan with mom and dad, dad who fretted over the traffic and the break from his normal routine to bring me to the airport to the point that getting the ride, packing the car, going to lunch and killing time at a cafe all required varying degrees of arm twisting, consoling & cajoling. We ended up at the airport 3 hours early for a domestic flight, about an hour earlier than TSA says I needed to be there, and about an hour and a half earlier than I say I need to be there. Nonetheless, I was there and the long awaited moment of saying goodbye fell upon us. Mom & I had to convince dad that he had to go park the car in the short term lot and sit in the terminal for a few minutes to drag this out, reassuring him that traffic both "is what it is" and 15 minutes in the middle of the day on a Monday, isn't gonna kill their commute home.
So, we give our hugs, shed our tears, blubber, blather and walk away. With their backs to me and a few paces ahead, I call out to mom, both of us wet cheeked still, but me laughing now.
She stops, dad is still walking not noticing he's now alone, and I jog up to her to avoid having to yell,
And when we're about next to each other, I lean in, and whisper,
"Check your back pocket..."
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