fascination.

It may be because I have a family full o' them.

Or that my boyfriend is studying to be one.

Or because they made for the best characters in Harry Potter.

But, I love the romance of professors.

It's an interesting dynamic: this person serves as a mentor, even as aspiration - even if you don't like them, they're inherently interesting and you take their learned words as gold, yet there's also this impenetrable distance and formality.

I literally get lost in class thinking over the details of their lives: what their spouses are like or whether they're deliberately single, how many languages they speak, the thought process behind the outfits they put together, if they've ever watched anything on Bravo!, their opinions on politics and religion - forget the forced objectivity but what they really think, their child-rearing philosophy, what sparked their interest in the given topic, what they think I should do with my life, what did they have for lunch, how hard it is to adapt to societal norms, how their house is decorated, did they subsist off ramen noodles during all those years in school, do they end the day defeated, etc.

Forget the bio stacked with degrees and published papers, instead I cling to the little details that offer insight into the greater backstory I'm building: a suggestion that yoga classes might help with finals stress, penchants for tropical ties/thick-lensed glasses/nude hose, the traveling coffee cup they cling to, the huge diamond ring, a passing mention of a past experience in Bhutan, the framed photographs in the office, the cartoon taped to the door, etc. - all fair game for romancing their profession.

tootsie.

a POMEGRANATE flavored tootsie roll pop!

...found inexplicably at Couscous Cafe, a tiny Mediterranean/Moroccan restaurant where Walker insists a huge scoop of hummus ratio per pita wedge is the authentic way to do it, I swoon over Tahini sauce, the Coke comes in a bottle no matter what, and impromptu baklava purchases are made when paying at the register. It's lovely.

p.s. Isn't there some sort of urban legend attached to getting a wrapper that features the Indian shooting a star?

covet.

I've become obsessed with The Covetur lately.

I love the little personal details of homes.

But you want to talk about real obsession? Like really, really, really sickly obsessed: fashion moms paired with their cute kids. Can't. Stop. Myself.

other obsessions as of late:

Quinoa! Maybe I'm late to the game, but it's soooo good (and good for you).

F.N.T. by Semisonic.

Dateline.

p.s.

I was pretty down last weekend. (Yeah, thanks a lot law school).

But there's also nothing like realizing how good you have it in the midst of being down - courtesy of my Torts case book:

Testimony revealed Helen’s persistent emotional and mental disturbance is evidenced by bed wetting, nightmares, refusing to sleep alone, withdrawal, and speech impediments.

She was burned over 40 % of her body, 3^rd degree burns cover 80% of her scalp. She was hospitalized for 28 days, where she developed pneumonia, fever, vomiting, diarrhea, infection, required numerous transfusions, underwent skin grafts, Keloid scarring, her fingers adhered together, scarring bent her arm at the elbow, scarring on her legs impaired walking. The stretching and pulling of scar tissue will continue to cause severe pain and limit her motion. There will be renewed pain, risks, and trauma from the 27 surgeries awaiting her.

She will be deprived a normal social life, and will never find a husband and raise a family. She will be subjected to stares, rejection, and tactless inquiries. Her injuries will prevent her from earning a living for the rest of her life.

(Anderson v. Sears, Roebuck & Co.)

Cue all the usual emotions:

Happy.

Grateful.

Boyfriend.

Family.

Friends.

Don't waste any more time.

Every single second.

I love my life.

I love the world.

I want to be a good person.

Sentiments that can be summed up by this quote from a glamorous Frenchie featured on IntoTheGloss.

This is how I handle law school, damn the consequence:

The thing I know, it is important to take care of yourself. (...) But to take care of yourself, you have to know what are your priorities, and not get too stressed about doing everything perfectly. You always have to think, ‘I’m healthy, people I like are healthy, I have not such a bad life.’

skillz.

My boyfriend makes sushi now. So I'm set.

chairlift.

I grew up with the privilege of getting to go to Snowmass, Colorado twice a year: once in the winter to ski, and again in the summer. Sometimes either, or. Which tapered off into never sometime around high school.

My grandparents had a condo there (subsequently sold because the stairs were getting a bit hard to negotiate), complete with a chandelier made of antlers, a cupboard full of boardgames, a piano, and mountain scape photographs lining the walls. The definition of cozy.

Oh, so much nostalgia:

inflatable animals in the swimming pool

sinking into the miraculous hot tub after a day of skiing

trips to the market to buy seemingly foreign things like Orangina sodas in their exotic bottles

the independence granted by the town shuttle

my Mama's mandatory blueberry bowls with breakfast

Porgy and Bess played on the top of Aspen mountain

the brown Jeep

decorating rocks

forever associating the smell of piñon wood to the smell of Colorado

etc.

...I didn't realize I'd missed the place so much.

Over the break my Papa and Aunt were staying in the same condos for a medical conference, so when a free place to stay and free lift tickets suddenly became available, Walker and I took the opportunity and ran with it.

Plus, I know this is silly, but I always dreamt that someday I'd get to take my boyfriend toSnowmass. And that after skiing we'd go get a beer and eat pizza.

So, check!

For the long road trip:

Blink 182 (sang loud and off-key with my eyes closed, I felt like I discovered eternal life truths) and The Book of Mormon soundtrack (genius).

Iphone-ing the nearest Jimmy Johns: Hays, Kansas.

and

The 6am mountain views on the drive home making you want to sing Hallelujah! from their sheer magnificence.

...more on magnificence, just the act of getting away and disappearing into the mountains. I feel like I'm always talking about being gobsmacked by gaining perspective in life, but it just never ceases to surprise me. What's important to me. What's not. Where I fit in the universe.

Never underestimate the power of just getting away.

Skiiiing.

Dear God, it's so much work. The ski boots alone are like these ancient torture chambers (just ask Walker, with his chronic flat feet).

But somehow so inexplicably worth it for those seconds of complete freedom, where you feel like a bird gliding down a mountain. Or when you conquer a particularly hard run (a.k.a. The Funnel) and feel on top of the world.

(I want to take a moment to thank my parents for their infinite patience in taking on the monumental task of raising kids that ski - especially in my case: I was a headache and a half).

p.s.

This YouTube phenom, especially after being stuck in a gondola with the gear-obsessed, is kinda funny: Shit Skiers Say.

Have Love, Will Travel: The Black Keys.

the ocean park series.

Richard Diebenkorn.

I'm a fan of the color scheme, get me a whole white walled room of 'em!

p.s. I will always love how Dallas is the remedy for an easy Oklahoma escape.

...but can only be withstood for a maximum of 48 hours.

walker + the richard serra's of texas.

I had a wonderful birthday with my wonderful boyfriend.

And I appreciate the work of Serra because of my Meg.

Museums:

The Kimbell.

Fort Worth Modern.

Dallas Museum of Art.

- (Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit actually was quite entertaining).

- (But I will always actually be there for the Nash Sculpture Garden).

And food:

Lonesome Dove. Featured on Top Chef. I die.

Coal Vines.

Oddfellows.