Unbelieveably . . .

I actually finished a travel post within a week of completing the trip. Here is the link for you! And here is an example of what you'll find there:



(Jay, I thought it would make you feel at home to see a former Cardinal here--don't count on it happening again!)

Nothing inspires a concerted weight loss effort . . .

more than seeing oneself on TV. I saw some footage from Sunday's Cubs game broadcast after hearing that my friends were shown and commented on by the broadcasters. As it turns out, I was standing next to them and the broadcasters, seeing the guys with their clipboards (and perhaps noticing me checking email on my Treo), wondered aloud, "Maybe they are scouts." However, I did not initially recognize myself in the video and thought someone else had stopped by to visit with the guys while I was off wandering around the ballpark. It took a few seconds for me to realize that was me standing next to them, and not looking remotely as fit as I would hope to look, not by a long shot.

Oh. My. God.

Going to gym this morning!!! (And every morning thereafter for the foreseeable future).

Believe it or not . . .

I have already posted my notes from the first part of my visit to Cubs spring training! (I'm trying to turn over a new leaf and keep reasonably up to date with my travel postings). Here is a sample of what you will see if you click on this link:



There are also a few close-up photos of a $126 million dollar pitcher who is so well-watched in spring training this year that they write about what he eats.

Because I couldn't wait for the temperature to reach 90 degrees in Dallas,

I'm headed to Arizona tomorrow for a little Cubs spring training action . . . will be there for the next four days. It seemed like a good time to take yet another trip, as I have yet to make the time to make a proper post about last year's trip:



or to post about my trip to Hawaii or countless other trips I have taken in between.

Nonetheless, I'm excited to see some up-close baseball, not just any baseball, of course, but CUBS BASEBALL! I also have a "wild card" day planned for Saturday, on which I may do a spa thing, or a pool thing, or a hiking thing, or a Sedona thing, or something I have not yet dreamed up! Hey, maybe I can spend the day in a lovely place where I actually--gasp!--catch up on my travel postings! We shall see . . .

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On another travel note, I do need some help from you folks--if you were taking a 10-day trip in the fall and could visit:

(A) Vermont and New Hampshire; or
(B) Maine

which would you choose? I am experiencing a rare case of trip planning paralysis and need your help! I think JD will vote for Maine, but he may surprise me. What do you say?


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On a last and much more somber note, I am awaiting with trepidation the 11am CT press conference scheduled by Democratic Presidential candidate John Edwards and his wife Elizabeth. Based on the stories I have read, it appears likely that they will announce the reappearance of cancer in Elizabeth and explain how that will affect the campaign. I hope that isn't the case, most of all because Elizabeth and John seem like good people, they have young children and it is a shame for anyone to suffer from cancer, but also because I think he is one of our best hopes in the 2008 election and hate to see any setback to his chances. Please keep John and Elizabeth in your thoughts and hope for the best for them!

This is what a person does

when she is obsessed with simplifying her life and also doesn't really want to perform billable work on the weekend:



Such an obsessed person is also thrilled when she finds the perfect over-the-door shoe rack, one that holds thirty-six (yes, that's 36!) pairs of shoes. Before procuring this shoe rack, she did not even know she owned thirty-six pairs of shoes because they were all piled up in different places around the house. She now knows that she owns more than thirty-six pairs of shoes, and that she seems to buy the same shoes over and over and over again. Trouble is, she rushes forward so quickly in installing this fabulous shoe rack that she fails to notice the rack is just a bit too wide to permit the closet door bearing it to close. But now she loves the rack and the order it brings to her life so much that she will live, at least temporarily, with the closet door being constantly ajar.

What else does a person do who is desperately trying to be a non-working human? She gets carried away with planning her late summer vacation and stays up until four o'clock in the morning to outline the route. Sadly, she realizes that it was a bit ambitious to think about seeing three whole states in a 10-day period, even states as small as Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine. So now the trip will cover only Vermont and New Hampshire, with Maine being saved for another time. But the journey promises to be a really nice one, with plenty of fresh air and hiking and apple-picking and other fun things.

Must finish purging all of the old magazines now . . . they are weighing down my space. Then must go to sleep, in keeping with the vow to get enough sleep and exercise to fuel the things she wants to do with her life.

Tidbits.

In recent years, I have become a person who skims more than I really settle in and read something. But this guy's undertakings, which he writes about on his web site, kept me reading every word. Barry Stiefel is a California computer guy who, among other things, has managed to visit all 50 states within a 9-day period. Cool, very cool. Thanks to the always great Kottke for pointing out Barry's site with a link!

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I saw a post on one of my favorite web sites, Apartment Therapy, in which a person organized all of their books according to the color of the book jacket or cover, creating something of a rainbow effect. I'm planning to do it! I need something to make my bookshelves look less disorganized.

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"Quality," rather than "quantity," would be the word used to describe my blog traffic on the average day. But yesterday, something odd happened and I still haven't gotten to the bottom of it. A few Octobers ago, I posted a cool picture by a photographer named Kay Westhues, giving her credit for the photo in a line underneath it. Yesterday, for a reason I have not yet determined, everyone was frantically Googling Kay, leading them to my blog and resulting in a 10-fold increase in my blog traffic. I Googled Kay myself to see if she was in a new story or something, but I wasn't able to find it, or any other explanation for her sudden popularity among Google searchers. I even posted a plea at the old post for the searchers to let me know what caused them to suddenly look for Kay, but so far, I have had no takers. It's a mystery!

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Sunday night was quite odd. I had planned to drive to Houston in the afternoon, but work and other things conspired to keep me from leaving until dinnertime. I arrived in Houston around 10:00 p.m. or so, and was immediately presented with a lovely glass of wine by my friends. We spent quite a bit of time noodling over the possibilities of their newly-purchased loft, which will be combined through wall demolition with their current loft. What fun! More time was spent peeking at my Hawaii pics and talking about shoes and ships and things. The friends then went to sleep but, even though it was quite late, I could not sleep. So I took advantage of the "found" time to book flights for my Chicago (April), New York (May) and Maine/Vermont/New Hampshire (August/September) trips. I didn't stop there--I made plans with a friend to see Liev Schreiber in "Talk Radio" while in NYC, booked a rental car for the fall trip, and planned other related details. (My most proud moment was when I realized I could cut the cost of the 10-day price of the rental car nearly in half simply by taking a short cab ride from the Boston airport to an in-town car rental place, rather than renting at the airport--awesome!) I finally was able to will myself to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, only to awake to a very loud thunderstorm.

Lazy Sunday

I travel so much and am so busy at work in between trips that sometimes I forget how nice it is just to putter around the house on a Sunday. I am on a simplification mission, and I managed to purge a bit more "stuff" this morning, after which I relaxed with coffee and pancakes and the New York Times. The dogs love lounging around and I am no different.

Now I'm off to whip out a bit of work, then take my new car on its first-ever road trip: to Houston, where I will spend time with friends tonight and have a business meeting tomorrow. On the way, I will listen to the Cubs' game on the radio, feel the wind ruffle my hair and revel in the sense of peace that has recently arrived from I-don't-know-where.

I hope your Sunday is just as lovely!

Yellow house update, more Kauai stuff

The house has been rented! I feel better already, seeing cars in the driveway and no "for rent" sign.

Here is one of my favorite Kauai pics:



While in Kauai, I discovered a very talented photographer named Arius Hopman. I am considering buying this piece of his for my office, which is about to be redecorated in a soothing palate of the colors sand and blue:



BY ARIUS HOPMAN.

What do you think?

A finely written paragraph

I appreciate good writing, and the last paragraph of this story by Peter Baker of the Washington Post made me giggle. Writing about the protests that preceded Shrub's trip to Brazil this week, Baker writes:

The president rarely sees such scenes except perhaps on television. He arrived in Sao Paulo after dark a few hours later and headed by well-guarded motorcade to the Hilton Hotel, where he is staying. The only sign of protest he saw during the hour-long drive in from the airport was a single Brazilian standing along the road who raised his middle finger in a gesture that translates the world over.


Am I juvenile for enjoying this? Probably.

A glimpse into the fine American legal system.

We receive reports of cases that are filed in the area--a service goes to the courthouse every day and compiles a list of the suits that were filed. Many of the descriptions of the cases are a source of amusement, including this one from today's report, about a suit filed against Wal-Mart:

Trip and fall over a can of Vienna Sausage "or whatever object it was." $1 million.

I'll give you more examples soon.

Breaking! Scooter Libby requests pardon!

Hey, check it out . . . a journalist has uncovered correspondence between Scooter Libby and The Shrub, in which Scooter begs for a pardon. Very interesting reading.

These people vote.

You may have heard a bit about a jury verdict in Washington, D.C. yesterday, in which the former right hand man to our Esteemed Vice President was convicted of four felonies. The news was much-awaited, though our press will probably not give it the focused attention it deserves.

I spent my day yesterday with a federal investigator, working on a matter for a client. We were on an extended break in our meeting, waiting for a witness to arrive, when I saw that the Libby jury had delivered a verdict. I popped over to the room where the investigator waited to let her know, and her response was, "Who is Scooter Libby?" Gently outlining the story didn't help, and neither did a detailed explanation of the Plame/Wilson/Novak background. The federal investigator--a government employee living in a metropolitan area within the United States of America--had never heard about the leaking of a CIA agent's identity to defend against an attack on the administration's false rationalizations for the war in Iraq, had never heard about an extended investigation of the leak by independent counsel, in which members of the press were jailed based on their refusal to reveal sources, had never heard that a top level administration official was indicted, later claiming in court that he was a scapegoat for Vice President Dick Cheney and Karl Rove.

But I'll bet she votes.

This is what our courts spend time and money addressing.

One of the most difficult aspects of being intimately involved in the legal profession is seeing the waste of time and money that results from so many ridiculous lawsuits. This summary of a recently-filed case exemplifies this phenomenon:

Violation of Constitutional Rights case where plaintiff, an individual who has a demonstrated psychic ability, sent emails to herself describing her visions which included certain terrorist attacks against the United States. Plaintiff's email became monitored by the U.S. government due to certain key words used in her emails including "bomb." Plaintiff was monitored by the government when she attended a workshop run by a licensed therapist.

In case you were wondering, a licensed attorney filed this case--it wasn't filed the the psychic on her own behalf.

This editorial

is but one of the reasons I love the New York Times. In it, the paper of record lists the many things that need to happen to unwind the damage done by the current administration to "the founding principles of American democracy." The NYT views these three tasks as fundamental, but doesn't stop there:

Restore Habeas Corpus

One of the new act’s most indecent provisions denies anyone Mr. Bush labels an “illegal enemy combatant” the ancient right to challenge his imprisonment in court. The arguments for doing this were specious. Habeas corpus is nothing remotely like a get-out-of-jail-free card for terrorists, as supporters would have you believe. It is a way to sort out those justly detained from those unjustly detained. It will not “clog the courts,” as Senator Graham claims. Senator Patrick Leahy of Vermont, the Democratic chairman of the Judiciary Committee, has a worthy bill that would restore habeas corpus. It is essential to bringing integrity to the detention system and reviving the United States’ credibility.

Stop Illegal Spying

Mr. Bush’s program of intercepting Americans’ international calls and e-mail messages without a warrant has not ceased. The agreement announced recently — under which a secret court supposedly gave its blessing to the program — did nothing to restore judicial process or ensure that Americans’ rights are preserved. Congress needs to pass a measure, like one proposed by Senator Dianne Feinstein, to force Mr. Bush to obey the law that requires warrants for electronic surveillance.

Ban Torture, Really

The provisions in the Military Commissions Act that Senator McCain trumpeted as a ban on torture are hardly that. It is still largely up to the president to decide what constitutes torture and abuse for the purpose of prosecuting anyone who breaks the rules. This amounts to rewriting the Geneva Conventions and puts every American soldier at far greater risk if captured. It allows the president to decide in secret what kinds of treatment he will permit at the Central Intelligence Agency’s prisons. The law absolves American intelligence agents and their bosses of any acts of torture and abuse they have already committed.

A Lisa Weekend, Ending With a Thread

There was a time a few years ago, before things became so hectic, when I faithfully kept a tradition my friends laughingly called "The Lisa Day." Once a month, I set aside a Saturday for a haircut, massage and whatever other non-work related thing my heart desired. Nothing was allowed to interfere . . . in response to invitations that might interfere with the day, I could say only, "I'm sorry, but I have other plans." Then work and other must-do's intervened and The Lisa Day went the way of the Edsel.

This weekend, however, The Lisa Day was revived--for three days! I was able to scoot out of work at the "early" hour of 3:30 p.m. on Friday, and I beelined for my friend Sandy's house, where we celebrated an early happy hour with a nice Chardonnay. Then I zipped home, changed clothes and headed to an event for that group that I love. Here is the sky I saw on the way to my meeting:



The event was a nice one, and afterward I brainstormed with others about some future projects, then hung out with some friends and even recruited a new future Board member for my group!

Saturday morning came bright and early, with an 8:00 a.m. massage appointment. Here's the strange thing: I thought I would find at the appointment that my long-neglected back was ready to cave in on itself, but my massage therapist, who has known my back intimately for nearly 10 years now, said my muscles are more relaxed than she has seen them in years. That may not sound like a big deal, but on all of my prior recent visits, my muscles were tied in knots by stress. My job hasn't become any less stressful on a daily basis and Louise thinks this change is closely tied to no longer having the "will I make partner?" question hanging over my head. Maybe she's right. But I couldn't be more surprised about the change or the reason for it.

I left the salon and, on a whim, drove to Fort Worth for breakfast. I lingered over perhaps the best migas I have ever had at the well known Joe T. Garcia's. The view of the courtyard/patio was so beautiful on such a blue-skied, crisp morning that I was able to pretend I was somewhere in interior Mexico, spending some time relaxing before beginning my day. There were small moments so warm they seemed to glow: a handsome young waiter listening intently to a bar back telling him a story, a middle-aged man and woman earnestly talking about how his family will receive her, the nice ladies who sweetly said goodbye as I left.

Tearing myself away from the warm dining room, I headed to the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, my favorite museum in the DFW area. I would love the museum's Tadao Ando-designed building even if it was completely empty, but it isn't. There is art, really wonderful art. Today's visit revealed no exception, with some parts of the permanent collection:





and an exhibition called "Pretty Baby" that showcased some interesting pieces around a kiddo theme:







This is all I was able to photograph with my phone's camera before learning that no photography of this exhibit was allowed. Two videos also formed part of the exhibit . . . one with side by side home movies of similar events--birthday parties, Disney visits, Christmas dinners--from the lives of Black families and White families, the other with two kids telling the story of a fraternal twin's birth in an amazingly poetic, sweet and imaginative way.

I left and, feeling spiritually wakened, drove slowly home, where I took a lovely long nap.

Not finished with the creative immersion, this afternoon I saw a wonderful production of Twelve Angry Men, starring George Wendt (of "Norm" fame) and Richard Thomas (of "John Boy" fame). The play was intense and absorbing and very well acted, so much so that it brought tears to my eyes a few times in the way that happens when I hear a particularly beautiful rendition of the National Anthem before a baseball game.

Do you ever go through a phase where you feel as if you are one with the world? Right now I feel like a thread woven snugly through the tapestry that is life and mankind, not a particularly beautiful thread or even a very strong one, but a thread which benefits from the strength and beauty of all those around it and knows that, for now, that is enough.

The Yellow House.

My heart hasn't been in this blog lately, and the number of people who now visit reflects that. I've been trying to figure out what the problem is. So far, I haven't had any luck.

The most apt metaphor I can offer is that of the yellow house. I follow the same route to work every single day. That route takes me down a street where, one day, I saw a black puppy running loose. It was obvious that he was on the lam. Luckily, his collar bore a tag with his home address. His home, a small yellow house, was just a few blocks up the street. No one answered the door, so I carefully let the dog into the back yard where his light-colored canine sister waited, latched the gate and continued on to work. After that, I looked for the wrangled puppy each morning as I drove past the yellow house. I enjoyed seeing him frolicking in his back yard--seeing him safely back in the place where he belongs gave me the feeling that everything was in its place in the world. But a few months ago, the dogs were suddenly gone, the house packed up and a "for rent" sign sprouted in the front yard. That sign remains in the yard today and, as far as I can tell, no one has moved in yet. I think of the puppy each morning when I pass the empty yellow house, wondering where he is and what he is doing.

That is also how I feel about the part of me that looked outward, taking in the details of the world around me.

Tidbits.

I was surprised to see this mea culpa by the founder of USA Today, whose columns I typically read for amusement whenever that paper is delivered to me as a hotel guest.

Have you seen this newly released footage from the day of President Kennedy's assasination? (Via Kottke) The film is surreal. One of the things I have always found strange about living in Dallas is that while the city is not much of a tourist destination--certainly not remotely in the same ballpark as New York, Chicago or Washington, DC--at any hour of the day or night, you will find someone at the Grassy Knoll, peering up at the sniper's window or standing in the spot on the road where the shots met their mark. I find it sad, though somewhat appropriate, that this city's only claim to fame is an event constituting a violent and shocking snuffing out of promise for a generation. At least we will soon have the Bush Presidential Library to change all that. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

In the "another reason why Cubs fans are so great" category, is the fact that the proprietor of a Cubs web site where I spend a bit of time cares enough to touch base with various fans he has met to see if they will be going to spring training. His inquiry was enough to motivate me to actually make plans for a quick weekend trip, though I have yet to find a hotel room . . .

I always enjoy the photos at Joe's NYC, but this one seems especially New Yorky to me.

Jen's commentary on a "porn wagon" is quite amusing. Just as amusing is Jay's speculative comment on the subject.

I am really proud of the hike I took that led me to the place where I encountered this feral goat:



I don't have much hiking experience and I am certainly not in primo hiking condition, but I felt like I accomplished something by completing the walk that brought me to this place at a reasonably high altitude, with some steepness in the terrain. My reward was a beautiful view and this memorable encounter with what is a wild animal in the Kauai context. His bleats to his friends could be heard echoing off the canyon walls.

And with that, I'm off to Nashville on a whirlwind business trip.

More Kauai pics for you . . .

I promise to write a real post sometime soon! :)

Odd dream.

I slept for a glorious 12 hours last night, after getting in only 3 hours of sleep the night before. Having slumbered long enough to reach a dream state, my subconscious chose an odd one. In my dream, I became friends with Jessica Simpson and realized she was a much deeper person than I would have thought.

Happy Belated Valentine's Day, People!